Nicomachean Ethics ............................................................................................................................................1

Aristotle...................................................................................................................................................1

EVERY art and every inquiry, and similarly every action and pursuit, is thought to aim at some good; and for

this reason the good has rightly been declared 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 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 economics wealth. But where such arts fall under a

single capacity as bridlemaking 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 all 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 latter are pursued. It makes no difference whether the activities themselves are

the ends of the actions, or something else apart from the activities, as in the case of the sciences just

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 would be empty and vain), clearly this must be the

good and the chief 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, 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 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 should be studied in a state, and which each class

of citizens should 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, economics, rhetoric; now, since politics uses the rest of

the sciences, and since, again, it legislates as to what we are 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 citystates. These, then, are the ends at which our

Our discussion will be adequate if it has as much clearness as the subjectmatter 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 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 speaking 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 conclusions 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 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 a good judge of that subject, and the man who has received an allround

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, 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 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 a rational principle knowledge about such matters will be

These remarks about the student, the sort of treatment to be expected, and the purpose of the inquiry, may be

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 achievable by action.

Verbally there is very general agreement; for both the general 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 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, they admire those who proclaim some great ideal that is above their

comprehension. Now some thought that apart from these many goods there is another which is

selfsubsistent 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

Let us not fail to notice, however, that there is a difference between 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?' There is a difference, as there is in a racecourse between the course from the

judges to the turningpoint and the way back. For, while we must begin with what 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 any one who is to listen intelligently to lectures about what is noble

and just, and generally, about the subjects of political science must have been brought up in good habits. For

the fact is the startingpoint, and if this is sufficiently plain to him, he will not at the start need the reason as

well; and the man who has been well brought up has or can easily get startingpoints. And as for him who

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 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 contemplative life. Now

the mass of mankind are evidently quite slavish 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 Sardanapallus.

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 speaking, 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 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 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 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

The life of moneymaking is one undertaken under compulsion, and 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.

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 wisdom; for, while both are

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 'good' is used both in the category of substance and in that of quality and in that of relation, and

that which is per se, i.e. substance, is prior in nature to the relative (for the latter is like an off shoot and

accident of being); so that there could not be a common Idea set over all these goods. Further, since 'good' 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, i.e. of the virtues, and in quantity, i.e. of that which is moderate, and in relation, i.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. Further, since of the things answering to one Idea there is one science, 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 'a thing itself', is (as is the case) in 'man himself' and in a

particular man the account of man is one and the same. For in so far as they are man, they will in no 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 not be good any the more for being eternal, since that which lasts long is no whiter than that which

perishes in a day. The Pythagoreans seem to give a 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 followed.

But let us discuss these matters elsewhere; an objection to what we have said, however, may be discerned in

the fact that the Platonists 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 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 other than the Idea of good good in itself?

In that case the Form will be empty. But if the things we have named are also things good in themselves, 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 their goodness, the accounts

are distinct and diverse. The good, therefore, 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, 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 philosophy. 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 attainable. Perhaps,

however, some one might think it worth while to recognize this with a view to the goods that are attainable

and achievable; for having this as a sort of pattern we shall know better the goods that 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 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 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 individuals that he is healing. But

Let us again return to the good we are seeking, and ask what it 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, 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 evidently more than one end, and we choose some of these (e.g. wealth, 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

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 therefore we call final without qualification that which

Now such a thing happiness, above all else, is held to be; for this we choose always for self and never for the

sake of something else, but honour, pleasure, reason, and every virtue we choose indeed for themselves (for if

nothing resulted from them we should still choose each of them), but we choose them also for the sake of

happiness, judging that by means of them we shall be happy. Happiness, on the other hand, no one chooses

From the point of view of selfsufficiency the same result seems to follow; for the final good is thought to be

selfsufficient. Now by selfsufficient we do not mean that which is sufficient for a man by 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; the selfsufficient we now define as 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 becomes an excess of

goods, and of goods the greater is always more desirable. Happiness, then, is something final and

Presumably, however, to say that happiness is the chief good seems a platitude, and a clearer account of what

it is still desired. This might perhaps be given, if we could first ascertain the function of man. For just as for a

fluteplayer, a sculptor, or an 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 functions or activities, and has man none? Is he born without a

function? 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 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 of possessing 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 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 'soandsoand 'a

good soandso' have a function which is the same in kind, e.g. a lyre, and a good lyreplayer, and so

without qualification in all cases, eminence in respect of goodness being idded to the name of the function

(for the function of a lyreplayer is to play the lyre, and that of a good lyreplayer 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 principle, 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 performed 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

But we must add 'in a complete life.' For one swallow does not make a summer, nor does one day; and so too

Let this serve as an outline of the good; for we must presumably first sketch it roughly, and then later fill in

the details. But it would seem that any one 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 any one can add what is lacking. And we must also remember what has been said before, and not

look for precision in all things alike, but in each class of things such precision as accords with the

subjectmatter, and so much as is appropriate to the inquiry. For a carpenter 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, 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 all other matters as well, that our main task may not be subordinated to minor questions. Nor

must we demand the cause in all matters alike; it is enough in some cases that the fact be well established, as

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 they have a great influence on what follows. For the beginning is thought to be more than half of the

We must consider it, however, in the light not only of our conclusion 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 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 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 not among external goods. Another belief 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, 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

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 small difference whether we place the chief good in

possession or in use, in state of mind or in activity. For the 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 some of these that are

victorious), so those who act win, and rightly win, the noble and good things in life.

Their life is also 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 to the lover of

sights, but also in the same way just acts are pleasant to the lover of justice and in general 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 of 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 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. Happiness then is the best, noblest, and most

pleasant thing in the world, and these attributes are not severed as in the inscription at Delos

For all these properties belong to the best activities; and these, or one the best of these, we identify with

Yet evidently, as we said, it needs the external goods as well; for it is impossible, or not easy, to do noble acts

without the proper equipment. 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 illborn or solitary and childless is not very likely to

be happy, and perhaps a man would be still less likely if he had thoroughly bad children or friends or had lost

good children or friends by death. As we said, then, happiness seems to need this sort of prosperity in

addition; for which reason some identify happiness with good fortune, though others identify it with virtue.

For this reason also the question is asked, whether happiness is to be acquired by learning or by habituation

or some other sort of training, or comes in virtue of some divine providence or again by chance. Now if there

is any gift of the gods to men, it is reasonable that happiness should be godgiven, and most surely

godgiven of all human things inasmuch as it is the best. But this question would perhaps be more

appropriate to another inquiry; happiness seems, however, even if it is not godsent but comes as a result of

virtue and some process of learning or training, to be among the most godlike things; for that which is the

prize and end of virtue seems to be the best thing in the world, and something godlike and blessed.

It will also on this view be very generally shared; for all who are not maimed as regards their potentiality for

virtue may win it by a certain kind of study and care. But if it is better to be happy thus than by chance, it is

reasonable that the facts should be so, since everything 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

The answer to the question we are asking is plain also from the definition of happiness; for it has been said to

be a virtuous activity of soul, of a certain kind. Of the remaining goods, some must necessarily preexist as

conditions of happiness, and others are naturally cooperative and useful as instruments. And this will be

found to agree with what we said at the outset; for we stated the end of political 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

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 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, not only complete virtue but also a 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

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 this quite absurd,

especially for us who say that happiness is an activity? But if we do not call the dead man happy, and if Solon

does not mean 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; 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 dishonours 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 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 the dead man were to share in these changes and become at one time happy, at another

wretched; while it would also be odd if the fortunes of the descendants did not for some time have some

But we must return to our first difficulty; for perhaps by a consideration of it our present problem might be

solved. Now if we must see the end and only then call a man happy, not as being happy but as having been so

before, surely this is a paradox, that when he is happy the 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 changes that may befall

them, and because we have assumed happiness 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 the same man happy and again wretched, making the happy man out to be

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, needs these as mere additions, while virtuous

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 because those who are happy spend their life

most readily and most continuously in these; for this seems to be the reason why we do not forget them. The

attribute in question, then, will belong to the happy man, and he will be happy throughout his life; for always,

or by preference to everything else, he will be engaged in virtuous action and contemplation, and he will bear

the chances of life most nobly and altogether decorously, if he is 'truly good' and 'foursquare beyond

Now many events happen by chance, and events differing in importance; 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 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 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

If activities are, as we said, what gives life its character, no happy man can become miserable; for he will

never do the acts that are hateful and mean. For the man who is truly good and wise, we think, bears all the

chances 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 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; though he will not reach blessedness, if he meet with fortunes like those of Priam.

Nor, again, is he manycoloured and changeable; for neither will he be moved from his happy state easily or

by any ordinary misadventures, 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

When then should we not say that he is happy who is active in accordance with complete virtue and is

sufficiently equipped with external 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 to be, fulfilled but happy men. So much for these

That the fortunes of descendants and 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 happen are

numerous and admit of all sorts of difference, and some 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 as a whole, and it makes a

difference whether the various suffering befall the living or the dead (much more even than whether lawless

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. For it seems,

from these considerations, that even if anything whether 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 such in degree and

kind as not to make happy those who are not happy nor to take away their blessedness from those who are.

The good or bad fortunes of friends, then, seem to have some effects on the dead, but effects of such a kind

and degree as neither to make the happy unhappy nor to produce any other change of the kind.

These questions having been definitely answered, let us consider whether happiness is among the things that

are praised or rather among the things that are prized; for clearly it is not to be placed among potentialities.

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 praise the strong man, the good runner, and so on, because he is

of a certain 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 absurd that the gods should be referred to our standard, but this is done

because praise involves a reference, to something else. But if 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 praises happiness as he does justice, but rather calls it blessed, as being something more divine

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 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 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 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

that we all do all that we do, and the first principle and cause of goods is, we claim, something prized and

Since happiness is an activity of soul in accordance with perfect virtue, we must consider the nature 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 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 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 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 sufficient for the questions we are discussing; for further precision is perhaps

Some things are said about it, adequately enough, even in the discussions 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 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 present 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 all nurslings

and to embryos, and this same power to fullgrown creatures; 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 most in sleep, while goodness and badness are least manifest

in sleep (whence comes the saying that the happy are not 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 actually penetrate to the soul, and in this

respect the dreams of good men are better than those of ordinary people. Enough of this subject, however; 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 soulone 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 the

part of their soul that has such a principle, since it urges them aright and towards the best objects; but there is

found in them also 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 turn on the

contrary to the left, so is it with the soul; the impulses 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 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; 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,

Therefore the irrational element also appears to be twofold. For the vegetative element in no way shares in a

rational principle, but the 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 'taking 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 and by all reproof and

exhortation. And if this element also must be said to have a rational principle, that which has a rational

principle (as well as that which has not) will be twofold, one subdivision having it in the strict sense and in

Virtue too is distinguished into kinds in accordance with this difference; for we say that some of the virtues

are intellectual and others moral, philosophic wisdom and understanding and practical wisdom being

intellectual, liberality and temperance moral. For in speaking about a man's character we do not say that he is

wise or has understanding but that he is goodtempered or temperate; yet we praise the wise man also with

respect to his state of mind; and of states of mind we call those which merit praise virtues.

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

lyreplayers by playing the lyre; so too we become just by doing just acts, temperate by doing temperate 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

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 lyreplayers 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 goodtempered, others

selfindulgent 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

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 assumedit 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 subjectmatter; 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

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 selfindulgent, while the man who shuns every

pleasure, as boors do, becomes in a way insensible; temperance and courage, then, are destroyed by excess

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

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 selfindulgent, 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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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,

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

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

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

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,

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

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

If it is thus, then, that every art does its work well by looking to the intermediate and judgling 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

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,

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

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

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 selfindulgence. 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

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 goodtempered 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 praiseworthy, 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 mockmodest. With regard to pleasantness in the giving of amusement the intermediate

person is readywitted 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

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

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 selfindulgent relatively to the insensible man, insensible relatively to the selfindulgent, 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,

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 selfindulgence, 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 selfindulgence 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

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

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

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

But this is no doubt difficult, and especially in individual cases; for or 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 goodtempered, 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

SINCE virtue is concerned with passions and actions, and on voluntary 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. Those things, then, are

thoughtinvoluntary, which take place under compulsion or owing to ignorance; and that is compulsory of

which the moving principle is outside, being a principle in which nothing is contributed by the person who is

acting or is feeling the passion, e.g. if he were to be carried somewhere by a wind, or by men who had him in

But with regard to the things that are done from fear of greater 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 be debated whether such actions

are involuntary or voluntary. Something of the sort happens also with regard to the throwing of goods

overboard in a storm; for in the abstract no one throws goods away voluntarily, but on condition of its

securing 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 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 voluntary, but in the abstract

For such actions men are sometimes even praised, when they 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 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 Alcmaeon to slay his mother

seem absurd. It is difficult 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 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 bestowed on those

What sort of acts, then, should be called compulsory? We answer 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 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

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 everything they do.

And those who act under compulsion and unwillingly act with pain, but those who do acts for their

pleasantness and nobility do them with pleasure; it is absurd to make external circumstances responsible, and

not oneself, as being easily caught by such attractions, and to make oneself responsible for noble acts but the

pleasant objects responsible for base acts. The compulsory, then, seems to be that whose moving principle is

Everything that is done by reason of ignorance is not voluntary; it is only what produces pain and repentance

that is involuntary. For the man who has done something owing to ignorance, and feels not the least vexation

at his action, has not acted voluntarily, since he did not know what he was doing, nor yet involuntarily, since

he is not pained. Of people, then, who act by reason of ignorance he who repents is thought an involuntary

agent, and the man who does not repent may, since he is different, be called a not voluntary agent; for, since

Acting by reason of ignorance seems also to be different from acting in ignorance; for the man who is drunk

or in a rage is thought to act as a result not of ignorance but of one of the causes mentioned, yet not

Now every wicked man is ignorant of what he ought to do and what he ought to abstain from, and it is by

reason of error of this kind that men become unjust and in general bad; but the term 'involuntary' tends to be

used not if a man is ignorant of what is to his advantage for it is not mistaken purpose that causes

involuntary action (it leads rather to wickedness), nor ignorance of the universal (for that men are blamed),

but ignorance of particulars, i.e. of the circumstances of the action and the objects with which it is concerned.

For it is on these that both pity and pardon depend, since the person who is ignorant of any of these acts

Perhaps it is just as well, therefore, to determine their nature and number. A man may be ignorant, then, of

who he is, what he is doing, what or whom he is acting on, and sometimes also what (e.g. what instrument)

he is doing it with, and to what end (e.g. he may think his act will conduce to some one's safety), and how he

is doing it (e.g. whether gently or violently). Now of all of these no one could be ignorant unless he were

mad, and evidently also he could not be ignorant of the agent; for how could he not know himself? But of

what he is doing a man might be ignorant, as for instance people say 'it slipped out of their mouths as they

were speaking', or 'they did not know it was a secret', as Aeschylus said of the mysteries, or a man might say

he 'let it go off when he merely wanted to show its working', as the man did with the catapult. Again, one

might think one's son was an enemy, as Merope did, or that a pointed spear had a button on it, or that a stone

was pumicestone; or one might give a man a draught to save him, and really kill him; or one might want to

touch a man, as people do in sparring, and really wound him. The ignorance may relate, then, to any of these

things, i.e. of the circumstances of the action, and the man who was ignorant of any of these is thought to

have acted involuntarily, and especially if he was ignorant on the most important points; and these are

thought to be the circumstances of the action and its end. Further, the doing of an act that is called

involuntary in virtue of ignorance of this sort must be painful and involve repentance.

Since that which is done under compulsion or by reason of ignorance is involuntary, the voluntary would

seem to be that of which the moving principle is in the agent himself, he being aware of the particular

circumstances of the action. Presumably acts done by reason of anger or appetite are not rightly called

involuntary. For in the first place, on that showing none of the other animals will act voluntarily, nor will

children; and secondly, is it meant that we do not do voluntarily any of the acts that are due to appetite or

anger, or that we do the noble acts voluntarily and the base acts involuntarily? Is not this absurd, when one

and the same thing is the cause? But it would surely be odd to describe as involuntary the things one ought to

desire; and we ought both to be angry at certain things and to have an appetite for certain things, e.g. for

health and for learning. Also what is involuntary is thought to be painful, but what is in accordance with

appetite is thought to be pleasant. Again, what is the difference in respect of involuntariness between errors

committed upon calculation and those committed in anger? Both are to be avoided, but the irrational passions

are thought not less human than reason is, and therefore also the actions which proceed from anger or appetite

Both the voluntary and the involuntary having been delimited, we must next discuss choice; for it is thought

to be most closely bound up with virtue and to discriminate characters better than actions do.

Choice, then, seems to be voluntary, but not the same thing as the voluntary; the latter extends more widely.

For both children and the lower animals share in voluntary action, but not in choice, and acts done on the spur

Those who say it is appetite or anger or wish or a kind of opinion do not seem to be right. For choice is not

common to irrational creatures as well, but appetite and anger are. Again, the incontinent man acts with

appetite, but not with choice; while the continent man on the contrary acts with choice, but not with appetite.

Again, appetite is contrary to choice, but not appetite to appetite. Again, appetite relates to the pleasant and

Still less is it anger; for acts due to anger are thought to be less than any others objects of choice.

But neither is it wish, though it seems near to it; for choice cannot relate to impossibles, and if any one said

he chose them he would be thought silly; but there may be a wish even for impossibles, e.g. for immortality.

And wish may relate to things that could in no way be brought about by one's own efforts, e.g. that a

particular actor or athlete should win in a competition; but no one chooses such things, but only the things

that he thinks could be brought about by his own efforts. Again, wish relates rather to the end, choice to the

means; for instance, we wish to be healthy, but we choose the acts which will make us healthy, and we wish

to be happy and say we do, but we cannot well say we choose to be so; for, in general, choice seems to relate

For this reason, too, it cannot be opinion; for opinion is thought to relate to all kinds of things, no less to

eternal things and impossible things than to things in our own power; and it is distinguished by its falsity or

truth, not by its badness or goodness, while choice is distinguished rather by these.

Now with opinion in general perhaps no one even says it is identical. But it is not identical even with any

kind of opinion; for by choosing what is good or bad we are men of a certain character, which we are not by

holding certain opinions. And we choose to get or avoid something good or bad, but we have opinions about

what a thing is or whom it is good for or how it is good for him; we can hardly be said to opine to get or

avoid anything. And choice is praised for being related to the right object rather than for being rightly related

to it, opinion for being truly related to its object. And we choose what we best know to be good, but we opine

what we do not quite know; and it is not the same people that are thought to make the best choices and to

have the best opinions, but some are thought to have fairly good opinions, but by reason of vice to choose

what they should not. If opinion precedes choice or accompanies it, that makes no difference; for it is not this

What, then, or what kind of thing is it, since it is none of the things we have mentioned? It seems to be

voluntary, but not all that is voluntary to be an object of choice. Is it, then, what has been decided on by

previous deliberation? At any rate choice involves a rational principle and thought. Even the name seems to

Do we deliberate about everything, and is everything a possible subject of deliberation, or is deliberation

impossible about some things? We ought presumably to call not what a fool or a madman would deliberate

about, but what a sensible man would deliberate about, a subject of deliberation. Now about eternal things no

one deliberates, e.g. about the material universe or the incommensurability of the diagonal and the side of a

square. But no more do we deliberate about the things that involve movement but always happen in the same

way, whether of necessity or by nature or from any other cause, e.g. the solstices and the risings of the stars;

nor about things that happen now in one way, now in another, e.g. droughts and rains; nor about chance

events, like the finding of treasure. But we do not deliberate even about all human affairs; for instance, no

Spartan deliberates about the best constitution for the Scythians. For none of these things can be brought

We deliberate about things that are in our power and can be done; and these are in fact what is left. For

nature, necessity, and chance are thought to be causes, and also reason and everything that depends on man.

Now every class of men deliberates about the things that can be done by their own efforts. And in the case of

exact and selfcontained sciences there is no deliberation, e.g. about the letters of the alphabet (for we have

no doubt how they should be written); but the things that are brought about by our own efforts, but not

always in the same way, are the things about which we deliberate, e.g. questions of medical treatment or of

moneymaking. And we do so more in the case of the art of navigation than in that of gymnastics, inasmuch

as it has been less exactly worked out, and again about other things in the same ratio, and more also in the

case of the arts than in that of the sciences; for we have more doubt about the former. Deliberation is

concerned with things that happen in a certain way for the most part, but in which the event is obscure, and

with things in which it is indeterminate. We call in others to aid us in deliberation on important questions,

We deliberate not about ends but about means. For a doctor does not deliberate whether he shall heal, nor an

orator whether he shall persuade, nor a statesman whether he shall produce law and order, nor does any one

else deliberate about his end. They assume the end and consider how and by what means it is to be attained;

and if it seems to be produced by several means they consider by which it is most easily and best produced,

while if it is achieved by one only they consider how it will be achieved by this and by what means this will

be achieved, till they come to the first cause, which in the order of discovery is last. For the person who

deliberates seems to investigate and analyse in the way described as though he were analysing a geometrical

construction (not all investigation appears to be deliberation for instance mathematical investigations but

all deliberation is investigation), and what is last in the order of analysis seems to be first in the order of

becoming. And if we come on an impossibility, we give up the search, e.g. if we need money and this cannot

be got; but if a thing appears possible we try to do it. By 'possible' things I mean things that might be brought

about by our own efforts; and these in a sense include things that can be brought about by the efforts of our

friends, since the moving principle is in ourselves. The subject of investigation is sometimes the instruments,

sometimes the use of them; and similarly in the other cases sometimes the means, sometimes the mode of

using it or the means of bringing it about. It seems, then, as has been said, that man is a moving principle of

actions; now deliberation is about the things to be done by the agent himself, and actions are for the sake of

things other than themselves. For the end cannot be a subject of deliberation, but only the means; nor indeed

can the particular facts be a subject of it, as whether this is bread or has been baked as it should; for these are

matters of perception. If we are to be always deliberating, we shall have to go on to infinity.

The same thing is deliberated upon and is chosen, except that the object of choice is already determinate,

since it is that which has been decided upon as a result of deliberation that is the object of choice. For every

one ceases to inquire how he is to act when he has brought the moving principle back to himself and to the

ruling part of himself; for this is what chooses. This is plain also from the ancient constitutions, which Homer

represented; for the kings announced their choices to the people. The object of choice being one of the things

in our own power which is desired after deliberation, choice will be deliberate desire of things in our own

power; for when we have decided as a result of deliberation, we desire in accordance with our deliberation.

We may take it, then, that we have described choice in outline, and stated the nature of its objects and the fact

That wish is for the end has already been stated; some think it is for the good, others for the apparent good.

Now those who say that the good is the object of wish must admit in consequence that that which the man

who does not choose aright wishes for is not an object of wish (for if it is to be so, it must also be good; but it

was, if it so happened, bad); while those who say the apparent good is the object of wish must admit that

there is no natural object of wish, but only what seems good to each man. Now different things appear good

If these consequences are unpleasing, are we to say that absolutely and in truth the good is the object of wish,

but for each person the apparent good; that that which is in truth an object of wish is an object of wish to the

good man, while any chance thing may be so the bad man, as in the case of bodies also the things that are in

truth wholesome are wholesome for bodies which are in good condition, while for those that are diseased

other things are wholesome or bitter or sweet or hot or heavy, and so on; since the good man judges each

class of things rightly, and in each the truth appears to him? For each state of character has its own ideas of

the noble and the pleasant, and perhaps the good man differs from others most by seeing the truth in each

class of things, being as it were the norm and measure of them. In most things the error seems to be due to

pleasure; for it appears a good when it is not. We therefore choose the pleasant as a good, and avoid pain as

The end, then, being what we wish for, the means what we deliberate about and choose, actions concerning

means must be according to choice and voluntary. Now the exercise of the virtues is concerned with means.

Therefore virtue also is in our own power, and so too vice. For where it is in our power to act it is also in our

power not to act, and vice versa; so that, if to act, where this is noble, is in our power, not to act, which will

be base, will also be in our power, and if not to act, where this is noble, is in our power, to act, which will be

base, will also be in our power. Now if it is in our power to do noble or base acts, and likewise in our power

not to do them, and this was what being good or bad meant, then it is in our power to be virtuous or vicious.

The saying that 'no one is voluntarily wicked nor involuntarily happy' seems to be partly false and partly true;

for no one is involuntarily happy, but wickedness is voluntary. Or else we shall have to dispute what has just

been said, at any rate, and deny that man is a moving principle or begetter of his actions as of children. But if

these facts are evident and we cannot refer actions to moving principles other than those in ourselves, the acts

whose moving principles are in us must themselves also be in our power and voluntary.

Witness seems to be borne to this both by individuals in their private capacity and by legislators themselves;

for these punish and take vengeance on those who do wicked acts (unless they have acted under compulsion

or as a result of ignorance for which they are not themselves responsible), while they honour those who do

noble acts, as though they meant to encourage the latter and deter the former. But no one is encouraged to do

the things that are neither in our power nor voluntary; it is assumed that there is no gain in being persuaded

not to be hot or in pain or hungry or the like, since we shall experience these feelings none the less. Indeed,

we punish a man for his very ignorance, if he is thought responsible for the ignorance, as when penalties are

doubled in the case of drunkenness; for the moving principle is in the man himself, since he had the power of

not getting drunk and his getting drunk was the cause of his ignorance. And we punish those who are ignorant

of anything in the laws that they ought to know and that is not difficult, and so too in the case of anything else

that they are thought to be ignorant of through carelessness; we assume that it is in their power not to be

But perhaps a man is the kind of man not to take care. Still they are themselves by their slack lives

responsible for becoming men of that kind, and men make themselves responsible for being unjust or

selfindulgent, in the one case by cheating and in the other by spending their time in drinking bouts and the

like; for it is activities exercised on particular objects that make the corresponding character. This is plain

from the case of people training for any contest or action; they practise the activity the whole time. Now not

to know that it is from the exercise of activities on particular objects that states of character are produced is

the mark of a thoroughly senseless person. Again, it is irrational to suppose that a man who acts unjustly does

not wish to be unjust or a man who acts selfindulgently to be selfindulgent. But if without being ignorant a

man does the things which will make him unjust, he will be unjust voluntarily. Yet it does not follow that if

he wishes he will cease to be unjust and will be just. For neither does the man who is ill become well on those

terms. We may suppose a case in which he is ill voluntarily, through living incontinently and disobeying his

doctors. In that case it was then open to him not to be ill, but not now, when he has thrown away his chance,

just as when you have let a stone go it is too late to recover it; but yet it was in your power to throw it, since

the moving principle was in you. So, too, to the unjust and to the selfindulgent man it was open at the

beginning not to become men of this kind, and so they are unjust and selfindulgent voluntarily; but now that

But not only are the vices of the soul voluntary, but those of the body also for some men, whom we

accordingly blame; while no one blames those who are ugly by nature, we blame those who are so owing to

want of exercise and care. So it is, too, with respect to weakness and infirmity; no one would reproach a man

blind from birth or by disease or from a blow, but rather pity him, while every one would blame a man who

was blind from drunkenness or some other form of selfindulgence. Of vices of the body, then, those in our

own power are blamed, those not in our power are not. And if this be so, in the other cases also the vices that

Now some one may say that all men desire the apparent good, but have no control over the appearance, but

the end appears to each man in a form answering to his character. We reply that if each man is somehow

responsible for his state of mind, he will also be himself somehow responsible for the appearance; but if not,

no one is responsible for his own evildoing, but every one does evil acts through ignorance of the end,

thinking that by these he will get what is best, and the aiming at the end is not selfchosen but one must be

born with an eye, as it were, by which to judge rightly and choose what is truly good, and he is well endowed

by nature who is well endowed with this. For it is what is greatest and most noble, and what we cannot get or

learn from another, but must have just such as it was when given us at birth, and to be well and nobly

endowed with this will be perfect and true excellence of natural endowment. If this is true, then, how will

virtue be more voluntary than vice? To both men alike, the good and the bad, the end appears and is fixed by

nature or however it may be, and it is by referring everything else to this that men do whatever they do.

Whether, then, it is not by nature that the end appears to each man such as it does appear, but something also

depends on him, or the end is natural but because the good man adopts the means voluntarily virtue is

voluntary, vice also will be none the less voluntary; for in the case of the bad man there is equally present that

which depends on himself in his actions even if not in his end. If, then, as is asserted, the virtues are voluntary

(for we are ourselves somehow partly responsible for our states of character, and it is by being persons of a

certain kind that we assume the end to be so and so), the vices also will be voluntary; for the same is true of

With regard to the virtues in general we have stated their genus in outline, viz. that they are means and that

they are states of character, and that they tend, and by their own nature, to the doing of the acts by which they

are produced, and that they are in our power and voluntary, and act as the right rule prescribes. But actions

and states of character are not voluntary in the same way; for we are masters of our actions from the

beginning right to the end, if we know the particular facts, but though we control the beginning of our states

of character the gradual progress is not obvious any more than it is in illnesses; because it was in our power,

however, to act in this way or not in this way, therefore the states are voluntary.

Let us take up the several virtues, however, and say which they are and what sort of things they are concerned

with and how they are concerned with them; at the same time it will become plain how many they are. And

That it is a mean with regard to feelings of fear and confidence has already been made evident; and plainly

the things we fear are terrible things, and these are, to speak without qualification, evils; for which reason

people even define fear as expectation of evil. Now we fear all evils, e.g. disgrace, poverty, disease,

friendlessness, death, but the brave man is not thought to be concerned with all; for to fear some things is

even right and noble, and it is base not to fear them e.g. disgrace; he who fears this is good and modest, and

he who does not is shameless. He is, however, by some people called brave, by a transference of the word to

a new meaning; for he has in him something which is like the brave man, since the brave man also is a

fearless person. Poverty and disease we perhaps ought not to fear, nor in general the things that do not

proceed from vice and are not due to a man himself. But not even the man who is fearless of these is brave.

Yet we apply the word to him also in virtue of a similarity; for some who in the dangers of war are cowards

are liberal and are confident in face of the loss of money. Nor is a man a coward if he fears insult to his wife

and children or envy or anything of the kind; nor brave if he is confident when he is about to be flogged. With

what sort of terrible things, then, is the brave man concerned? Surely with the greatest; for no one is more

likely than he to stand his ground against what is aweinspiring. Now death is the most terrible of all things;

for it is the end, and nothing is thought to be any longer either good or bad for the dead. But the brave man

would not seem to be concerned even with death in all circumstances, e.g. at sea or in disease. In what

circumstances, then? Surely in the noblest. Now such deaths are those in battle; for these take place in the

greatest and noblest danger. And these are correspondingly honoured in citystates and at the courts of

monarchs. Properly, then, he will be called brave who is fearless in face of a noble death, and of all

emergencies that involve death; and the emergencies of war are in the highest degree of this kind. Yet at sea

also, and in disease, the brave man is fearless, but not in the same way as the seaman; for he has given up

hope of safety, and is disliking the thought of death in this shape, while they are hopeful because of their

experience. At the same time, we show courage in situations where there is the opportunity of showing

prowess or where death is noble; but in these forms of death neither of these conditions is fulfilled.

What is terrible is not the same for all men; but we say there are things terrible even beyond human strength.

These, then, are terrible to every one at least to every sensible man; but the terrible things that are not

beyond human strength differ in magnitude and degree, and so too do the things that inspire confidence. Now

the brave man is as dauntless as man may be. Therefore, while he will fear even the things that are not

beyond human strength, he will face them as he ought and as the rule directs, for honour's sake; for this is the

end of virtue. But it is possible to fear these more, or less, and again to fear things that are not terrible as if

they were. Of the faults that are committed one consists in fearing what one should not, another in fearing as

we should not, another in fearing when we should not, and so on; and so too with respect to the things that

inspire confidence. The man, then, who faces and who fears the right things and from the right motive, in the

right way and from the right time, and who feels confidence under the corresponding conditions, is brave; for

the brave man feels and acts according to the merits of the case and in whatever way the rule directs. Now the

end of every activity is conformity to the corresponding state of character. This is true, therefore, of the brave

man as well as of others. But courage is noble. Therefore the end also is noble; for each thing is defined by its

end. Therefore it is for a noble end that the brave man endures and acts as courage directs.

Of those who go to excess he who exceeds in fearlessness has no name (we have said previously that many

states of character have no names), but he would be a sort of madman or insensible person if he feared

nothing, neither earthquakes nor the waves, as they say the Celts do not; while the man who exceeds in

confidence about what really is terrible is rash. The rash man, however, is also thought to be boastful and

only a pretender to courage; at all events, as the brave man is with regard to what is terrible, so the rash man

wishes to appear; and so he imitates him in situations where he can. Hence also most of them are a mixture of

rashness and cowardice; for, while in these situations they display confidence, they do not hold their ground

against what is really terrible. The man who exceeds in fear is a coward; for he fears both what he ought not

and as he ought not, and all the similar characterizations attach to him. He is lacking also in confidence; but

he is more conspicuous for his excess of fear in painful situations. The coward, then, is a despairing sort of

person; for he fears everything. The brave man, on the other hand, has the opposite disposition; for

confidence is the mark of a hopeful disposition. The coward, the rash man, and the brave man, then, are

concerned with the same objects but are differently disposed towards them; for the first two exceed and fall

short, while the third holds the middle, which is the right, position; and rash men are precipitate, and wish for

dangers beforehand but draw back when they are in them, while brave men are keen in the moment of action,

As we have said, then, courage is a mean with respect to things that inspire confidence or fear, in the

circumstances that have been stated; and it chooses or endures things because it is noble to do so, or because

it is base not to do so. But to die to escape from poverty or love or anything painful is not the mark of a brave

man, but rather of a coward; for it is softness to fly from what is troublesome, and such a man endures death

Courage, then, is something of this sort, but the name is also applied to five other kinds.

First comes the courage of the citizensoldier; for this is most like true courage. Citizensoldiers seem to

face dangers because of the penalties imposed by the laws and the reproaches they would otherwise incur,

and because of the honours they win by such action; and therefore those peoples seem to be bravest among

whom cowards are held in dishonour and brave men in honour. This is the kind of courage that Homer

This kind of courage is most like to that which we described earlier, because it is due to virtue; for it is due to

shame and to desire of a noble object (i.e. honour) and avoidance of disgrace, which is ignoble. One might

rank in the same class even those who are compelled by their rulers; but they are inferior, inasmuch as they

do what they do not from shame but from fear, and to avoid not what is disgraceful but what is painful; for

And those who give them their posts, and beat them if they retreat, do the same, and so do those who draw

them up with trenches or something of the sort behind them; all of these apply compulsion. But one ought to

(2) Experience with regard to particular facts is also thought to be courage; this is indeed the reason why

Socrates thought courage was knowledge. Other people exhibit this quality in other dangers, and professional

soldiers exhibit it in the dangers of war; for there seem to be many empty alarms in war, of which these have

had the most comprehensive experience; therefore they seem brave, because the others do not know the

nature of the facts. Again, their experience makes them most capable in attack and in defence, since they can

use their arms and have the kind that are likely to be best both for attack and for defence; therefore they fight

like armed men against unarmed or like trained athletes against amateurs; for in such contests too it is not the

bravest men that fight best, but those who are strongest and have their bodies in the best condition.

Professional soldiers turn cowards, however, when the danger puts too great a strain on them and they are

inferior in numbers and equipment; for they are the first to fly, while citizenforces die at their posts, as in

fact happened at the temple of Hermes. For to the latter flight is disgraceful and death is preferable to safety

on those terms; while the former from the very beginning faced the danger on the assumption that they were

stronger, and when they know the facts they fly, fearing death more than disgrace; but the brave man is not

(3) Passion also is sometimes reckoned as courage; those who act from passion, like wild beasts rushing at

those who have wounded them, are thought to be brave, because brave men also are passionate; for passion

above all things is eager to rush on danger, and hence Homer's 'put strength into his passion' and 'aroused

their spirit and passion and 'hard he breathed panting' and 'his blood boiled'. For all such expressions seem to

indicate the stirring and onset of passion. Now brave men act for honour's sake, but passion aids them; while

wild beasts act under the influence of pain; for they attack because they have been wounded or because they

are afraid, since if they are in a forest they do not come near one. Thus they are not brave because, driven by

pain and passion, they rush on danger without foreseeing any of the perils, since at that rate even asses would

be brave when they are hungry; for blows will not drive them from their food; and lust also makes adulterers

do many daring things. (Those creatures are not brave, then, which are driven on to danger by pain or

passion.) The 'courage' that is due to passion seems to be the most natural, and to be courage if choice and

Men, then, as well as beasts, suffer pain when they are angry, and are pleased when they exact their revenge;

those who fight for these reasons, however, are pugnacious but not brave; for they do not act for honour's

sake nor as the rule directs, but from strength of feeling; they have, however, something akin to courage.

(4) Nor are sanguine people brave; for they are confident in danger only because they have conquered often

and against many foes. Yet they closely resemble brave men, because both are confident; but brave men are

confident for the reasons stated earlier, while these are so because they think they are the strongest and can

suffer nothing. (Drunken men also behave in this way; they become sanguine). When their adventures do not

succeed, however, they run away; but it was the mark of a brave man to face things that are, and seem,

terrible for a man, because it is noble to do so and disgraceful not to do so. Hence also it is thought the mark

of a braver man to be fearless and undisturbed in sudden alarms than to be so in those that are foreseen; for it

must have proceeded more from a state of character, because less from preparation; acts that are foreseen

may be chosen by calculation and rule, but sudden actions must be in accordance with one's state of

(5) People who are ignorant of the danger also appear brave, and they are not far removed from those of a

sanguine temper, but are inferior inasmuch as they have no selfreliance while these have. Hence also the

sanguine hold their ground for a time; but those who have been deceived about the facts fly if they know or

suspect that these are different from what they supposed, as happened to the Argives when they fell in with

We have, then, described the character both of brave men and of those who are thought to be brave.

Though courage is concerned with feelings of confidence and of fear, it is not concerned with both alike, but

more with the things that inspire fear; for he who is undisturbed in face of these and bears himself as he

should towards these is more truly brave than the man who does so towards the things that inspire confidence.

It is for facing what is painful, then, as has been said, that men are called brave. Hence also courage involves

pain, and is justly praised; for it is harder to face what is painful than to abstain from what is pleasant.

Yet the end which courage sets before it would seem to be pleasant, but to be concealed by the attending

circumstances, as happens also in athletic contests; for the end at which boxers aim is pleasant the crown

and the honours but the blows they take are distressing to flesh and blood, and painful, and so is their whole

exertion; and because the blows and the exertions are many the end, which is but small, appears to have

nothing pleasant in it. And so, if the case of courage is similar, death and wounds will be painful to the brave

man and against his will, but he will face them because it is noble to do so or because it is base not to do so.

And the more he is possessed of virtue in its entirety and the happier he is, the more he will be pained at the

thought of death; for life is best worth living for such a man, and he is knowingly losing the greatest goods,

and this is painful. But he is none the less brave, and perhaps all the more so, because he chooses noble deeds

of war at that cost. It is not the case, then, with all the virtues that the exercise of them is pleasant, except in

so far as it reaches its end. But it is quite possible that the best soldiers may be not men of this sort but those

who are less brave but have no other good; for these are ready to face danger, and they sell their life for

So much, then, for courage; it is not difficult to grasp its nature in outline, at any rate, from what has been

After courage let us speak of temperance; for these seem to be the virtues of the irrational parts. We have said

that temperance is a mean with regard to pleasures (for it is less, and not in the same way, concerned with

pains); selfindulgence also is manifested in the same sphere. Now, therefore, let us determine with what sort

of pleasures they are concerned. We may assume the distinction between bodily pleasures and those of the

soul, such as love of honour and love of learning; for the lover of each of these delights in that of which he is

a lover, the body being in no way affected, but rather the mind; but men who are concerned with such

pleasures are called neither temperate nor selfindulgent. Nor, again, are those who are concerned with the

other pleasures that are not bodily; for those who are fond of hearing and telling stories and who spend their

days on anything that turns up are called gossips, but not selfindulgent, nor are those who are pained at the

Temperance must be concerned with bodily pleasures, but not all even of these; for those who delight in

objects of vision, such as colours and shapes and painting, are called neither temperate nor selfindulgent; yet

it would seem possible to delight even in these either as one should or to excess or to a deficient degree.

And so too is it with objects of hearing; no one calls those who delight extravagantly in music or acting

Nor do we apply these names to those who delight in odour, unless it be incidentally; we do not call those

selfindulgent who delight in the odour of apples or roses or incense, but rather those who delight in the

odour of unguents or of dainty dishes; for selfindulgent people delight in these because these remind them

of the objects of their appetite. And one may see even other people, when they are hungry, delighting in the

smell of food; but to delight in this kind of thing is the mark of the selfindulgent man; for these are objects

Nor is there in animals other than man any pleasure connected with these senses, except incidentally. For

dogs do not delight in the scent of hares, but in the eating of them, but the scent told them the hares were

there; nor does the lion delight in the lowing of the ox, but in eating it; but he perceived by the lowing that it

was near, and therefore appears to delight in the lowing; and similarly he does not delight because he sees 'a

stag or a wild goat', but because he is going to make a meal of it. Temperance and selfindulgence, however,

are concerned with the kind of pleasures that the other animals share in, which therefore appear slavish and

brutish; these are touch and taste. But even of taste they appear to make little or no use; for the business of

taste is the discriminating of flavours, which is done by winetasters and people who season dishes; but they

hardly take pleasure in making these discriminations, or at least selfindulgent people do not, but in the

actual enjoyment, which in all cases comes through touch, both in the case of food and in that of drink and in

that of sexual intercourse. This is why a certain gourmand prayed that his throat might become longer than a

crane's, implying that it was the contact that he took pleasure in. Thus the sense with which selfindulgence

is connected is the most widely shared of the senses; and selfindulgence would seem to be justly a matter of

reproach, because it attaches to us not as men but as animals. To delight in such things, then, and to love

them above all others, is brutish. For even of the pleasures of touch the most liberal have been eliminated,

e.g. those produced in the gymnasium by rubbing and by the consequent heat; for the contact characteristic of

Of the appetites some seem to be common, others to be peculiar to individuals and acquired; e.g. the appetite

for food is natural, since every one who is without it craves for food or drink, and sometimes for both, and for

love also (as Homer says) if he is young and lusty; but not every one craves for this or that kind of

nourishment or love, nor for the same things. Hence such craving appears to be our very own. Yet it has of

course something natural about it; for different things are pleasant to different kinds of people, and some

things are more pleasant to every one than chance objects. Now in the natural appetites few go wrong, and

only in one direction, that of excess; for to eat or drink whatever offers itself till one is surfeited is to exceed

the natural amount, since natural appetite is the replenishment of one's deficiency. Hence these people are

called bellygods, this implying that they fill their belly beyond what is right. It is people of entirely slavish

character that become like this. But with regard to the pleasures peculiar to individuals many people go

wrong and in many ways. For while the people who are 'fond of so and so' are so called because they delight

either in the wrong things, or more than most people do, or in the wrong way, the selfindulgent exceed in all

three ways; they both delight in some things that they ought not to delight in (since they are hateful), and if

one ought to delight in some of the things they delight in, they do so more than one ought and than most men

Plainly, then, excess with regard to pleasures is selfindulgence and is culpable; with regard to pains one is

not, as in the case of courage, called temperate for facing them or selfindulgent for not doing so, but the

selfindulgent man is so called because he is pained more than he ought at not getting pleasant things (even his

pain being caused by pleasure), and the temperate man is so called because he is not pained at the absence of

The selfindulgent man, then, craves for all pleasant things or those that are most pleasant, and is led by his

appetite to choose these at the cost of everything else; hence he is pained both when he fails to get them and

when he is merely craving for them (for appetite involves pain); but it seems absurd to be pained for the sake

of pleasure. People who fall short with regard to pleasures and delight in them less than they should are

hardly found; for such insensibility is not human. Even the other animals distinguish different kinds of food

and enjoy some and not others; and if there is any one who finds nothing pleasant and nothing more attractive

than anything else, he must be something quite different from a man; this sort of person has not received a

name because he hardly occurs. The temperate man occupies a middle position with regard to these objects.

For he neither enjoys the things that the selfindulgent man enjoys mostbut rather dislikes themnor in

general the things that he should not, nor anything of this sort to excess, nor does he feel pain or craving

when they are absent, or does so only to a moderate degree, and not more than he should, nor when he should

not, and so on; but the things that, being pleasant, make for health or for good condition, he will desire

moderately and as he should, and also other pleasant things if they are not hindrances to these ends, or

contrary to what is noble, or beyond his means. For he who neglects these conditions loves such pleasures

more than they are worth, but the temperate man is not that sort of person, but the sort of person that the right

Selfindulgence is more like a voluntary state than cowardice. For the former is actuated by pleasure, the

latter by pain, of which the one is to be chosen and the other to be avoided; and pain upsets and destroys the

nature of the person who feels it, while pleasure does nothing of the sort. Therefore selfindulgence is more

voluntary. Hence also it is more a matter of reproach; for it is easier to become accustomed to its objects,

since there are many things of this sort in life, and the process of habituation to them is free from danger,

while with terrible objects the reverse is the case. But cowardice would seem to be voluntary in a different

degree from its particular manifestations; for it is itself painless, but in these we are upset by pain, so that we

even throw down our arms and disgrace ourselves in other ways; hence our acts are even thought to be done

under compulsion. For the selfindulgent man, on the other hand, the particular acts are voluntary (for he

does them with craving and desire), but the whole state is less so; for no one craves to be selfindulgent.

The name selfindulgence is applied also to childish faults; for they bear a certain resemblance to what we

have been considering. Which is called after which, makes no difference to our present purpose; plainly,

however, the later is called after the earlier. The transference of the name seems not a bad one; for that which

desires what is base and which develops quickly ought to be kept in a chastened condition, and these

characteristics belong above all to appetite and to the child, since children in fact live at the beck and call of

appetite, and it is in them that the desire for what is pleasant is strongest. If, then, it is not going to be

obedient and subject to the ruling principle, it will go to great lengths; for in an irrational being the desire for

pleasure is insatiable even if it tries every source of gratification, and the exercise of appetite increases its

innate force, and if appetites are strong and violent they even expel the power of calculation. Hence they

should be moderate and few, and should in no way oppose the rational principleand this is what we call an

obedient and chastened stateand as the child should live according to the direction of his tutor, so the

appetitive element should live according to rational principle. Hence the appetitive element in a temperate

man should harmonize with the rational principle; for the noble is the mark at which both aim, and the

temperate man craves for the things be ought, as he ought, as when he ought; and when he ought; and this is

LET us speak next of liberality. It seems to be the mean with regard to wealth; for the liberal man is praised

not in respect of military matters, nor of those in respect of which the temrate man is praised, nor of judicial

decisions, but with regard to the giving and taking of wealth, and especially in respect of giving. Now by

'wealth' we mean all the things whose value is measured by money. Further, prodigality and meanness are

excesses and defects with regard to wealth; and meanness we always impute to those who care more than

they ought for wealth, but we sometimes apply the word 'prodigality' in a complex sense; for we call those

men prodigals who are incontinent and spend money on selfindulgence. Hence also they are thought the

poorest characters; for they combine more vices than one. Therefore the application of the word to them is

not its proper use; for a 'prodigal' means a man who has a single evil quality, that of wasting his substance;

since a prodigal is one who is being ruined by his own fault, and the wasting of substance is thought to be a

sort of ruining of oneself, life being held to depend on possession of substance.

This, then, is the sense in which we take the word 'prodigality'. Now the things that have a use may be used

either well or badly; and riches is a useful thing; and everything is used best by the man who has the virtue

concerned with it; riches, therefore, will be used best by the man who has the virtue concerned with wealth;

and this is the liberal man. Now spending and giving seem to be the using of wealth; taking and keeping

rather the possession of it. Hence it is more the mark of the liberal man to give to the right people than to take

from the right sources and not to take from the wrong. For it is more characteristic of virtue to do good than

to have good done to one, and more characteristic to do what is noble than not to do what is base; and it is not

hard to see that giving implies doing good and doing what is noble, and taking implies having good done to

one or not acting basely. And gratitude is felt towards him who gives, not towards him who does not take,

and praise also is bestowed more on him. It is easier, also, not to take than to give; for men are apter to give

away their own too little than to take what is another's. Givers, too, are called liberal; but those who do not

take are not praised for liberality but rather for justice; while those who take are hardly praised at all. And the

liberal are almost the most loved of all virtuous characters, since they are useful; and this depends on their

Now virtuous actions are noble and done for the sake of the noble. Therefore the liberal man, like other

virtuous men, will give for the sake of the noble, and rightly; for he will give to the right people, the right

amounts, and at the right time, with all the other qualifications that accompany right giving; and that too with

pleasure or without pain; for that which is virtuous is pleasant or free from painleast of all will it be painful.

But he who gives to the wrong people or not for the sake of the noble but for some other cause, will be called

not liberal but by some other name. Nor is he liberal who gives with pain; for he would prefer the wealth to

the noble act, and this is not characteristic of a liberal man. But no more will the liberal man take from wrong

sources; for such taking is not characteristic of the man who sets no store by wealth. Nor will he be a ready

asker; for it is not characteristic of a man who confers benefits to accept them lightly. But he will take from

the right sources, e.g. from his own possessions, not as something noble but as a necessity, that he may have

something to give. Nor will he neglect his own property, since he wishes by means of this to help others. And

he will refrain from giving to anybody and everybody, that he may have something to give to the right

people, at the right time, and where it is noble to do so. It is highly characteristic of a liberal man also to go to

excess in giving, so that he leaves too little for himself; for it is the nature of a liberal man not to look to

himself. The term 'liberality' is used relatively to a man's substance; for liberality resides not in the multitude

of the gifts but in the state of character of the giver, and this is relative to the giver's substance. There is

therefore nothing to prevent the man who gives less from being the more liberal man, if he has less to give

those are thought to be more liberal who have not made their wealth but inherited it; for in the first place they

have no experience of want, and secondly all men are fonder of their own productions, as are parents and

poets. It is not easy for the liberal man to be rich, since he is not apt either at taking or at keeping, but at

giving away, and does not value wealth for its own sake but as a means to giving. Hence comes the charge

that is brought against fortune, that those who deserve riches most get it least. But it is not unreasonable that

it should turn out so; for he cannot have wealth, any more than anything else, if he does not take pains to have

it. Yet he will not give to the wrong people nor at the wrong time, and so on; for he would no longer be acting

in accordance with liberality, and if he spent on these objects he would have nothing to spend on the right

objects. For, as has been said, he is liberal who spends according to his substance and on the right objects;

and he who exceeds is prodigal. Hence we do not call despots prodigal; for it is thought not easy for them to

give and spend beyond the amount of their possessions. Liberality, then, being a mean with regard to giving

and taking of wealth, the liberal man will both give and spend the right amounts and on the right objects,

alike in small things and in great, and that with pleasure; he will also take the right amounts and from the

right sources. For, the virtue being a mean with regard to both, he will do both as he ought; since this sort of

taking accompanies proper giving, and that which is not of this sort is contrary to it, and accordingly the

giving and taking that accompany each other are present together in the same man, while the contrary kinds

evidently are not. But if he happens to spend in a manner contrary to what is right and noble, he will be

pained, but moderately and as he ought; for it is the mark of virtue both to be pleased and to be pained at the

right objects and in the right way. Further, the liberal man is easy to deal with in money matters; for he can be

got the better of, since he sets no store by money, and is more annoyed if he has not spent something that he

ought than pained if he has spent something that he ought not, and does not agree with the saying of

The prodigal errs in these respects also; for he is neither pleased nor pained at the right things or in the right

way; this will be more evident as we go on. We have said that prodigality and meanness are excesses and

deficiencies, and in two things, in giving and in taking; for we include spending under giving. Now

prodigality exceeds in giving and not taking, while meanness falls short in giving, and exceeds in taking,

The characteristics of prodigality are not often combined; for it is not easy to give to all if you take from

none; private persons soon exhaust their substance with giving, and it is to these that the name of prodigals is

applied though a man of this sort would seem to be in no small degree better than a mean man. For he is

easily cured both by age and by poverty, and thus he may move towards the middle state. For he has the

characteristics of the liberal man, since he both gives and refrains from taking, though he does neither of

these in the right manner or well. Therefore if he were brought to do so by habituation or in some other way,

he would be liberal; for he will then give to the right people, and will not take from the wrong sources. This is

why he is thought to have not a bad character; it is not the mark of a wicked or ignoble man to go to excess in

giving and not taking, but only of a foolish one. The man who is prodigal in this way is thought much better

than the mean man both for the aforesaid reasons and because he benefits many while the other benefits no

But most prodigal people, as has been said, also take from the wrong sources, and are in this respect mean.

They become apt to take because they wish to spend and cannot do this easily; for their possessions soon run

short. Thus they are forced to provide means from some other source. At the same time, because they care

nothing for honour, they take recklessly and from any source; for they have an appetite for giving, and they

do not mind how or from what source. Hence also their giving is not liberal; for it is not noble, nor does it

aim at nobility, nor is it done in the right way; sometimes they make rich those who should be poor, and will

give nothing to people of respectable character, and much to flatterers or those who provide them with some

other pleasure. Hence also most of them are selfindulgent; for they spend lightly and waste money on their

indulgences, and incline towards pleasures because they do not live with a view to what is noble.

The prodigal man, then, turns into what we have described if he is left untutored, but if he is treated with care

he will arrive at the intermediate and right state. But meanness is both incurable (for old age and every

disability is thought to make men mean) and more innate in men than prodigality; for most men are fonder of

getting money than of giving. It also extends widely, and is multiform, since there seem to be many kinds of

For it consists in two things, deficiency in giving and excess in taking, and is not found complete in all men

but is sometimes divided; some men go to excess in taking, others fall short in giving. Those who are called

by such names as 'miserly', 'close', 'stingy', all fall short in giving, but do not covet the possessions of others

nor wish to get them. In some this is due to a sort of honesty and avoidance of what is disgraceful (for some

seem, or at least profess, to hoard their money for this reason, that they may not some day be forced to do

something disgraceful; to this class belong the cheeseparer and every one of the sort; he is so called from his

excess of unwillingness to give anything); while others again keep their hands off the property of others from

fear, on the ground that it is not easy, if one takes the property of others oneself, to avoid having one's own

Others again exceed in respect of taking by taking anything and from any source, e.g. those who ply sordid

trades, pimps and all such people, and those who lend small sums and at high rates. For all of these take more

than they ought and from wrong sources. What is common to them is evidently sordid love of gain; they all

put up with a bad name for the sake of gain, and little gain at that. For those who make great gains but from

wrong sources, and not the right gains, e.g. despots when they sack cities and spoil temples, we do not call

mean but rather wicked, impious, and unjust. But the gamester and the footpad (and the highwayman) belong

to the class of the mean, since they have a sordid love of gain. For it is for gain that both of them ply their

craft and endure the disgrace of it, and the one faces the greatest dangers for the sake of the booty, while the

other makes gain from his friends, to whom he ought to be giving. Both, then, since they are willing to make

gain from wrong sources, are sordid lovers of gain; therefore all such forms of taking are mean.

And it is natural that meanness is described as the contrary of liberality; for not only is it a greater evil than

prodigality, but men err more often in this direction than in the way of prodigality as we have described it.

It would seem proper to discuss magnificence next. For this also seems to be a virtue concerned with wealth;

but it does not like liberality extend to all the actions that are concerned with wealth, but only to those that

involve expenditure; and in these it surpasses liberality in scale. For, as the name itself suggests, it is a fitting

expenditure involving largeness of scale. But the scale is relative; for the expense of equipping a trireme is

not the same as that of heading a sacred embassy. It is what is fitting, then, in relation to the agent, and to the

circumstances and the object. The man who in small or middling things spends according to the merits of the

case is not called magnificent (e.g. the man who can say 'many a gift I gave the wanderer'), but only the man

who does so in great things. For the magnificent man is liberal, but the liberal man is not necessarily

magnificent. The deficiency of this state of character is called niggardliness, the excess vulgarity, lack of

taste, and the like, which do not go to excess in the amount spent on right objects, but by showy expenditure

in the wrong circumstances and the wrong manner; we shall speak of these vices later.

The magnificent man is like an artist; for he can see what is fitting and spend large sums tastefully. For, as we

said at the begining, a state of character is determined by its activities and by its objects. Now the expenses of

the magnificent man are large and fitting. Such, therefore, are also his results; for thus there will be a great

expenditure and one that is fitting to its result. Therefore the result should be worthy of the expense, and the

expense should be worthy of the result, or should even exceed it. And the magnificent man will spend such

sums for honour's sake; for this is common to the virtues. And further he will do so gladly and lavishly; for

nice calculation is a niggardly thing. And he will consider how the result can be made most beautiful and

most becoming rather than for how much it can be produced and how it can be produced most cheaply. It is

necessary, then, that the magnificent man be also liberal. For the liberal man also will spend what he ought

and as he ought; and it is in these matters that the greatness implied in the name of the magnificent manhis

bigness, as it wereis manifested, since liberality is concerned with these matters; and at an equal expense he

will produce a more magnificent work of art. For a possession and a work of art have not the same

excellence. The most valuable possession is that which is worth most, e.g. gold, but the most valuable work

of art is that which is great and beautiful (for the contemplation of such a work inspires admiration, and so

does magnificence); and a work has an excellenceviz. magnificencewhich involves magnitude.

Magnificence is an attribute of expenditures of the kind which we call honourable, e.g. those connected with

the godsvotive offerings, buildings, and sacrificesand similarly with any form of religious worship, and all

those that are proper objects of publicspirited ambition, as when people think they ought to equip a chorus

or a trireme, or entertain the city, in a brilliant way. But in all cases, as has been said, we have regard to the

agent as well and ask who he is and what means he has; for the expenditure should be worthy of his means,

and suit not only the result but also the producer. Hence a poor man cannot be magnificent, since he has not

the means with which to spend large sums fittingly; and he who tries is a fool, since he spends beyond what

can be expected of him and what is proper, but it is right expenditure that is virtuous. But great expenditure is

becoming to those who have suitable means to start with, acquired by their own efforts or from ancestors or

connexions, and to people of high birth or reputation, and so on; for all these things bring with them greatness

and prestige. Primarily, then, the magnificent man is of this sort, and magnificence is shown in expenditures

of this sort, as has been said; for these are the greatest and most honourable. Of private occasions of

expenditure the most suitable are those that take place once for all, e.g. a wedding or anything of the kind, or

anything that interests the whole city or the people of position in it, and also the receiving of foreign guests

and the sending of them on their way, and gifts and countergifts; for the magnificent man spends not on

himself but on public objects, and gifts bear some resemblance to votive offerings. A magnificent man will

also furnish his house suitably to his wealth (for even a house is a sort of public ornament), and will spend by

preference on those works that are lasting (for these are the most beautiful), and on every class of things he

will spend what is becoming; for the same things are not suitable for gods and for men, nor in a temple and in

a tomb. And since each expenditure may be great of its kind, and what is most magnificent absolutely is great

expenditure on a great object, but what is magnificent here is what is great in these circumstances, and

greatness in the work differs from greatness in the expense (for the most beautiful ball or bottle is

magnificent as a gift to a child, but the price of it is small and mean),therefore it is characteristic of the

magnificent man, whatever kind of result he is producing, to produce it magnificently (for such a result is not

Such, then, is the magnificent man; the man who goes to excess and is vulgar exceeds, as has been said, by

spending beyond what is right. For on small objects of expenditure he spends much and displays a tasteless

showiness; e.g. he gives a club dinner on the scale of a wedding banquet, and when he provides the chorus for

a comedy he brings them on to the stage in purple, as they do at Megara. And all such things he will do not

for honour's sake but to show off his wealth, and because he thinks he is admired for these things, and where

he ought to spend much he spends little and where little, much. The niggardly man on the other hand will fall

short in everything, and after spending the greatest sums will spoil the beauty of the result for a trifle, and

whatever he is doing he will hesitate and consider how he may spend least, and lament even that, and think he

These states of character, then, are vices; yet they do not bring disgrace because they are neither harmful to

Pride seems even from its name to be concerned with great things; what sort of great things, is the first

question we must try to answer. It makes no difference whether we consider the state of character or the man

characterized by it. Now the man is thought to be proud who thinks himself worthy of great things, being

worthy of them; for he who does so beyond his deserts is a fool, but no virtuous man is foolish or silly. The

proud man, then, is the man we have described. For he who is worthy of little and thinks himself worthy of

little is temperate, but not proud; for pride implies greatness, as beauty implies a goodsized body, and little

people may be neat and wellproportioned but cannot be beautiful. On the other hand, he who thinks himself

worthy of great things, being unworthy of them, is vain; though not every one who thinks himself worthy of

more than he really is worthy of in vain. The man who thinks himself worthy of worthy of less than he is

really worthy of is unduly humble, whether his deserts be great or moderate, or his deserts be small but his

claims yet smaller. And the man whose deserts are great would seem most unduly humble; for what would he

have done if they had been less? The proud man, then, is an extreme in respect of the greatness of his claims,

but a mean in respect of the rightness of them; for he claims what is accordance with his merits, while the

If, then, he deserves and claims great things, and above all the great things, he will be concerned with one

thing in particular. Desert is relative to external goods; and the greatest of these, we should say, is that which

we render to the gods, and which people of position most aim at, and which is the prize appointed for the

noblest deeds; and this is honour; that is surely the greatest of external goods. Honours and dishonours,

therefore, are the objects with respect to which the proud man is as he should be. And even apart from

argument it is with honour that proud men appear to be concerned; for it is honour that they chiefly claim, but

in accordance with their deserts. The unduly humble man falls short both in comparison with his own merits

and in comparison with the proud man's claims. The vain man goes to excess in comparison with his own

Now the proud man, since he deserves most, must be good in the highest degree; for the better man always

deserves more, and the best man most. Therefore the truly proud man must be good. And greatness in every

virtue would seem to be characteristic of a proud man. And it would be most unbecoming for a proud man to

fly from danger, swinging his arms by his sides, or to wrong another; for to what end should he do

disgraceful acts, he to whom nothing is great? If we consider him point by point we shall see the utter

absurdity of a proud man who is not good. Nor, again, would he be worthy of honour if he were bad; for

honour is the prize of virtue, and it is to the good that it is rendered. Pride, then, seems to be a sort of crown

of the virtues; for it makes them greater, and it is not found without them. Therefore it is hard to be truly

proud; for it is impossible without nobility and goodness of character. It is chiefly with honours and

dishonours, then, that the proud man is concerned; and at honours that are great and conferred by good men

he will be moderately Pleased, thinking that he is coming by his own or even less than his own; for there can

be no honour that is worthy of perfect virtue, yet he will at any rate accept it since they have nothing greater

to bestow on him; but honour from casual people and on trifling grounds he will utterly despise, since it is not

this that he deserves, and dishonour too, since in his case it cannot be just. In the first place, then, as has been

said, the proud man is concerned with honours; yet he will also bear himself with moderation towards wealth

and power and all good or evil fortune, whatever may befall him, and will be neither overjoyed by good

fortune nor overpained by evil. For not even towards honour does he bear himself as if it were a very great

thing. Power and wealth are desirable for the sake of honour (at least those who have them wish to get honour

by means of them); and for him to whom even honour is a little thing the others must be so too. Hence proud

The goods of fortune also are thought to contribute towards pride. For men who are wellborn are thought

worthy of honour, and so are those who enjoy power or wealth; for they are in a superior position, and

everything that has a superiority in something good is held in greater honour. Hence even such things make

men prouder; for they are honoured by some for having them; but in truth the good man alone is to be

honoured; he, however, who has both advantages is thought the more worthy of honour. But those who

without virtue have such goods are neither justified in making great claims nor entitled to the name of 'proud';

for these things imply perfect virtue. Disdainful and insolent, however, even those who have such goods

become. For without virtue it is not easy to bear gracefully the goods of fortune; and, being unable to bear

them, and thinking themselves superior to others, they despise others and themselves do what they please.

They imitate the proud man without being like him, and this they do where they can; so they do not act

virtuously, but they do despise others. For the proud man despises justly (since he thinks truly), but the many

He does not run into trifling dangers, nor is he fond of danger, because he honours few things; but he will

face great dangers, and when he is in danger he is unsparing of his life, knowing that there are conditions on

which life is not worth having. And he is the sort of man to confer benefits, but he is ashamed of receiving

them; for the one is the mark of a superior, the other of an inferior. And he is apt to confer greater benefits in

return; for thus the original benefactor besides being paid will incur a debt to him, and will be the gainer by

the transaction. They seem also to remember any service they have done, but not those they have received

(for he who receives a service is inferior to him who has done it, but the proud man wishes to be superior),

and to hear of the former with pleasure, of the latter with displeasure; this, it seems, is why Thetis did not

mention to Zeus the services she had done him, and why the Spartans did not recount their services to the

Athenians, but those they had received. It is a mark of the proud man also to ask for nothing or scarcely

anything, but to give help readily, and to be dignified towards people who enjoy high position and good

fortune, but unassuming towards those of the middle class; for it is a difficult and lofty thing to be superior to

the former, but easy to be so to the latter, and a lofty bearing over the former is no mark of illbreeding, but

among humble people it is as vulgar as a display of strength against the weak. Again, it is characteristic of the

proud man not to aim at the things commonly held in honour, or the things in which others excel; to be

sluggish and to hold back except where great honour or a great work is at stake, and to be a man of few

deeds, but of great and notable ones. He must also be open in his hate and in his love (for to conceal one's

feelings, i.e. to care less for truth than for what people will think, is a coward's part), and must speak and act

openly; for he is free of speech because he is contemptuous, and he is given to telling the truth, except when

he speaks in irony to the vulgar. He must be unable to make his life revolve round another, unless it be a

friend; for this is slavish, and for this reason all flatterers are servile and people lacking in selfrespect are

flatterers. Nor is he given to admiration; for nothing to him is great. Nor is he mindful of wrongs; for it is not

the part of a proud man to have a long memory, especially for wrongs, but rather to overlook them. Nor is he

a gossip; for he will speak neither about himself nor about another, since he cares not to be praised nor for

others to be blamed; nor again is he given to praise; and for the same reason he is not an evilspeaker, even

about his enemies, except from haughtiness. With regard to necessary or small matters he is least of all me

given to lamentation or the asking of favours; for it is the part of one who takes such matters seriously to

behave so with respect to them. He is one who will possess beautiful and profitless things rather than

profitable and useful ones; for this is more proper to a character that suffices to itself.

Further, a slow step is thought proper to the proud man, a deep voice, and a level utterance; for the man who

takes few things seriously is not likely to be hurried, nor the man who thinks nothing great to be excited,

Such, then, is the proud man; the man who falls short of him is unduly humble, and the man who goes

beyond him is vain. Now even these are not thought to be bad (for they are not malicious), but only mistaken.

For the unduly humble man, being worthy of good things, robs himself of what he deserves, and to have

something bad about him from the fact that he does not think himself worthy of good things, and seems also

not to know himself; else he would have desired the things he was worthy of, since these were good. Yet such

people are not thought to be fools, but rather unduly retiring. Such a reputation, however, seems actually to

make them worse; for each class of people aims at what corresponds to its worth, and these people stand back

even from noble actions and undertakings, deeming themselves unworthy, and from external goods no less.

Vain people, on the other hand, are fools and ignorant of themselves, and that manifestly; for, not being

worthy of them, they attempt honourable undertakings, and then are found out; and tetadorn themselves with

clothing and outward show and such things, and wish their strokes of good fortune to be made public, and

speak about them as if they would be honoured for them. But undue humility is more opposed to pride than

There seems to be in the sphere of honour also, as was said in our first remarks on the subject, a virtue which

would appear to be related to pride as liberality is to magnificence. For neither of these has anything to do

with the grand scale, but both dispose us as is right with regard to middling and unimportant objects; as in

getting and giving of wealth there is a mean and an excess and defect, so too honour may be desired more

than is right, or less, or from the right sources and in the right way. We blame both the ambitious man as am

at honour more than is right and from wrong sources, and the unambitious man as not willing to be honoured

even for noble reasons. But sometimes we praise the ambitious man as being manly and a lover of what is

noble, and the unambitious man as being moderate and selfcontrolled, as we said in our first treatment of the

subject. Evidently, since 'fond of such and such an object' has more than one meaning, we do not assign the

term 'ambition' or 'love of honour' always to the same thing, but when we praise the quality we think of the

man who loves honour more than most people, and when we blame it we think of him who loves it more than

is right. The mean being without a name, the extremes seem to dispute for its place as though that were

vacant by default. But where there is excess and defect, there is also an intermediate; now men desire honour

both more than they should and less; therefore it is possible also to do so as one should; at all events this is

the state of character that is praised, being an unnamed mean in respect of honour. Relatively to ambition it

seems to be unambitiousness, and relatively to unambitiousness it seems to be ambition, while relatively to

both severally it seems in a sense to be both together. This appears to be true of the other virtues also. But in

this case the extremes seem to be contradictories because the mean has not received a name.

Good temper is a mean with respect to anger; the middle state being unnamed, and the extremes almost

without a name as well, we place good temper in the middle position, though it inclines towards the

deficiency, which is without a name. The excess might called a sort of 'irascibility'. For the passion is anger,

The man who is angry at the right things and with the right people, and, further, as he ought, when he ought,

and as long as he ought, is praised. This will be the goodtempered man, then, since good temper is praised.

For the goodtempered man tends to be unperturbed and not to be led by passion, but to be angry in the

manner, at the things, and for the length of time, that the rule dictates; but he is thought to err rather in the

direction of deficiency; for the goodtempered man is not revengeful, but rather tends to make allowances.

The deficiency, whether it is a sort of 'inirascibility' or whatever it is, is blamed. For those who are not angry

at the things they should be angry at are thought to be fools, and so are those who are not angry in the right

way, at the right time, or with the right persons; for such a man is thought not to feel things nor to be pained

by them, and, since he does not get angry, he is thought unlikely to defend himself; and to endure being

The excess can be manifested in all the points that have been named (for one can be angry with the wrong

persons, at the wrong things, more than is right, too quickly, or too long); yet all are not found in the same

person. Indeed they could not; for evil destroys even itself, and if it is complete becomes unbearable. Now

hottempered people get angry quickly and with the wrong persons and at the wrong things and more than is

right, but their anger ceases quicklywhich is the best point about them. This happens to them because they

do not restrain their anger but retaliate openly owing to their quickness of temper, and then their anger ceases.

By reason of excess choleric people are quicktempered and ready to be angry with everything and on every

occasion; whence their name. Sulky people are hard to appease, and retain their anger long; for they repress

their passion. But it ceases when they retaliate; for revenge relieves them of their anger, producing in them

pleasure instead of pain. If this does not happen they retain their burden; for owing to its not being obvious

no one even reasons with them, and to digest one's anger in oneself takes time. Such people are most

troublesome to themselves and to their dearest friends. We call hadtempered those who are angry at the

wrong things, more than is right, and longer, and cannot be appeased until they inflict vengeance or

To good temper we oppose the excess rather than the defect; for not only is it commoner since revenge is the

What we have said in our earlier treatment of the subject is plain also from what we are now saying; viz. that

it is not easy to define how, with whom, at what, and how long one should be angry, and at what point right

action ceases and wrong begins. For the man who strays a little from the path, either towards the more or

towards the less, is not blamed; since sometimes we praise those who exhibit the deficiency, and call them

goodtempered, and sometimes we call angry people manly, as being capable of ruling. How far, therefore,

and how a man must stray before he becomes blameworthy, it is not easy to state in words; for the decision

depends on the particular facts and on perception. But so much at least is plain, that the middle state is

praiseworthy that in virtue of which we are angry with the right people, at the right things, in the right way,

and so on, while the excesses and defects are blameworthy slightly so if they are present in a low degree,

more if in a higher degree, and very much if in a high degree. Evidently, then, we must cling to the middle

In gatherings of men, in social life and the interchange of words and deeds, some men are thought to be

obsequious, viz. those who to give pleasure praise everything and never oppose, but think it their duty 'to give

no pain to the people they meet'; while those who, on the contrary, oppose everything and care not a whit

about giving pain are called churlish and contentious. That the states we have named are culpable is plain

enough, and that the middle state is laudable that in virtue of which a man will put up with, and will resent,

the right things and in the right way; but no name has been assigned to it, though it most resembles

friendship. For the man who corresponds to this middle state is very much what, with affection added, we call

a good friend. But the state in question differs from friendship in that it implies no passion or affection for

one's associates; since it is not by reason of loving or hating that such a man takes everything in the right

way, but by being a man of a certain kind. For he will behave so alike towards those he knows and those he

does not know, towards intimates and those who are not so, except that in each of these cases he will behave

as is befitting; for it is not proper to have the same care for intimates and for strangers, nor again is it the

same conditions that make it right to give pain to them. Now we have said generally that he will associate

with people in the right way; but it is by reference to what is honourable and expedient that he will aim at not

giving pain or at contributing pleasure. For he seems to be concerned with the pleasures and pains of social

life; and wherever it is not honourable, or is harmful, for him to contribute pleasure, he will refuse, and will

choose rather to give pain; also if his acquiescence in another's action would bring disgrace, and that in a high

degree, or injury, on that other, while his opposition brings a little pain, he will not acquiesce but will decline.

He will associate differently with people in high station and with ordinary people, with closer and more

distant acquaintances, and so too with regard to all other differences, rendering to each class what is befitting,

and while for its own sake he chooses to contribute pleasure, and avoids the giving of pain, he will be guided

by the consequences, if these are greater, i.e. honour and expediency. For the sake of a great future pleasure,

The man who attains the mean, then, is such as we have described, but has not received a name; of those who

contribute pleasure, the man who aims at being pleasant with no ulterior object is obsequious, but the man

who does so in order that he may get some advantage in the direction of money or the things that money buys

is a flatterer; while the man who quarrels with everything is, as has been said, churlish and contentious. And

the extremes seem to be contradictory to each other because the mean is without a name.

The mean opposed to boastfulness is found in almost the same sphere; and this also is without a name. It will

be no bad plan to describe these states as well; for we shall both know the facts about character better if we

go through them in detail, and we shall be convinced that the virtues are means if we see this to be so in all

cases. In the field of social life those who make the giving of pleasure or pain their object in associating with

others have been described; let us now describe those who pursue truth or falsehood alike in words and deeds

and in the claims they put forward. The boastful man, then, is thought to be apt to claim the things that bring

glory, when he has not got them, or to claim more of them than he has, and the mockmodest man on the

other hand to disclaim what he has or belittle it, while the man who observes the mean is one who calls a

thing by its own name, being truthful both in life and in word, owning to what he has, and neither more nor

less. Now each of these courses may be adopted either with or without an object. But each man speaks and

acts and lives in accordance with his character, if he is not acting for some ulterior object. And falsehood is in

itself mean and culpable, and truth noble and worthy of praise. Thus the truthful man is another case of a man

who, being in the mean, is worthy of praise, and both forms of untruthful man are culpable, and particularly

Let us discuss them both, but first of all the truthful man. We are not speaking of the man who keeps faith in

his agreements, i.e. in the things that pertain to justice or injustice (for this would belong to another virtue),

but the man who in the matters in which nothing of this sort is at stake is true both in word and in life because

his character is such. But such a man would seem to be as a matter of fact equitable. For the man who loves

truth, and is truthful where nothing is at stake, will still more be truthful where something is at stake; he will

avoid falsehood as something base, seeing that he avoided it even for its own sake; and such a man is worthy

of praise. He inclines rather to understate the truth; for this seems in better taste because exaggerations are

He who claims more than he has with no ulterior object is a contemptible sort of fellow (otherwise he would

not have delighted in falsehood), but seems futile rather than bad; but if he does it for an object, he who does

it for the sake of reputation or honour is (for a boaster) not very much to be blamed, but he who does it for

money, or the things that lead to money, is an uglier character (it is not the capacity that makes the boaster,

but the purpose; for it is in virtue of his state of character and by being a man of a certain kind that he is

boaster); as one man is a liar because he enjoys the lie itself, and another because he desires reputation or

gain. Now those who boast for the sake of reputation claim such qualities as will praise or congratulation, but

those whose object is gain claim qualities which are of value to one's neighbours and one's lack of which is

not easily detected, e.g. the powers of a seer, a sage, or a physician. For this reason it is such things as these

that most people claim and boast about; for in them the abovementioned qualities are found.

Mockmodest people, who understate things, seem more attractive in character; for they are thought to speak

not for gain but to avoid parade; and here too it is qualities which bring reputation that they disclaim, as

Socrates used to do. Those who disclaim trifling and obvious qualities are called humbugs and are more

contemptible; and sometimes this seems to be boastfulness, like the Spartan dress; for both excess and great

deficiency are boastful. But those who use understatement with moderation and understate about matters that

do not very much force themselves on our notice seem attractive. And it is the boaster that seems to be

Since life includes rest as well as activity, and in this is included leisure and amusement, there seems here

also to be a kind of intercourse which is tasteful; there is such a thing as saying and again listening to what

one should and as one should. The kind of people one is speaking or listening to will also make a difference.

Evidently here also there is both an excess and a deficiency as compared with the mean. Those who carry

humour to excess are thought to be vulgar buffoons, striving after humour at all costs, and aiming rather at

raising a laugh than at saying what is becoming and at avoiding pain to the object of their fun; while those

who can neither make a joke themselves nor put up with those who do are thought to be boorish and

unpolished. But those who joke in a tasteful way are called readywitted, which implies a sort of readiness to

turn this way and that; for such sallies are thought to be movements of the character, and as bodies are

discriminated by their movements, so too are characters. The ridiculous side of things is not far to seek,

however, and most people delight more than they should in amusement and in jestinly. and so even buffoons

are called readywitted because they are found attractive; but that they differ from the readywitted man, and

To the middle state belongs also tact; it is the mark of a tactful man to say and listen to such things as befit a

good and wellbred man; for there are some things that it befits such a man to say and to hear by way of jest,

and the wellbred man's jesting differs from that of a vulgar man, and the joking of an educated man from

that of an uneducated. One may see this even from the old and the new comedies; to the authors of the former

indecency of language was amusing, to those of the latter innuendo is more so; and these differ in no small

degree in respect of propriety. Now should we define the man who jokes well by his saying what is not

unbecoming to a wellbred man, or by his not giving pain, or even giving delight, to the hearer? Or is the

latter definition, at any rate, itself indefinite, since different things are hateful or pleasant to different people?

The kind of jokes he will listen to will be the same; for the kind he can put up with are also the kind he seems

to make. There are, then, jokes he will not make; for the jest is a sort of abuse, and there are things that

lawgivers forbid us to abuse; and they should, perhaps, have forbidden us even to make a jest of such. The

refined and wellbred man, therefore, will be as we have described, being as it were a law to himself.

Such, then, is the man who observes the mean, whether he be called tactful or readywitted. The buffoon, on

the other hand, is the slave of his sense of humour, and spares neither himself nor others if he can raise a

laugh, and says things none of which a man of refinement would say, and to some of which he would not

even listen. The boor, again, is useless for such social intercourse; for he contributes nothing and finds fault

with everything. But relaxation and amusement are thought to be a necessary element in life.

The means in life that have been described, then, are three in number, and are all concerned with an

interchange of words and deeds of some kind. They differ, however, in that one is concerned with truth; and

the other two with pleasantness. Of those concerned with pleasure, one is displayed in jests, the other in the

Shame should not be described as a virtue; for it is more like a feeling than a state of character. It is defined,

at any rate, as a kind of fear of dishonour, and produces an effect similar to that produced by fear of danger;

for people who feel disgraced blush, and those who fear death turn pale. Both, therefore, seem to be in a

sense bodily conditions, which is thought to be characteristic of feeling rather than of a state of character.

The feeling is not becoming to every age, but only to youth. For we think young people should be prone to

the feeling of shame because they live by feeling and therefore commit many errors, but are restrained by

shame; and we praise young people who are prone to this feeling, but an older person no one would praise for

being prone to the sense of disgrace, since we think he should not do anything that need cause this sense. For

the sense of disgrace is not even characteristic of a good man, since it is consequent on bad actions (for such

actions should not be done; and if some actions are disgraceful in very truth and others only according to

common opinion, this makes no difference; for neither class of actions should be done, so that no disgrace

should be felt); and it is a mark of a bad man even to be such as to do any disgraceful action. To be so

constituted as to feel disgraced if one does such an action, and for this reason to think oneself good, is absurd;

for it is for voluntary actions that shame is felt, and the good man will never voluntarily do bad actions. But

shame may be said to be conditionally a good thing; if a good man does such actions, he will feel disgraced;

but the virtues are not subject to such a qualification. And if shamelessnessnot to be ashamed of doing base

actionsis bad, that does not make it good to be ashamed of doing such actions. Continence too is not virtue,

but a mixed sort of state; this will be shown later. Now, however, let us discuss justice.

WITH regards to justice and injustice we must (1) consider what kind of actions they are concerned with, (2)

what sort of mean justice is, and (3) between what extremes the just act is intermediate. Our investigation

We see that all men mean by justice that kind of state of character which makes people disposed to do what is

just and makes them act justly and wish for what is just; and similarly by injustice that state which makes

them act unjustly and wish for what is unjust. Let us too, then, lay this down as a general basis. For the same

is not true of the sciences and the faculties as of states of character. A faculty or a science which is one and

the same is held to relate to contrary objects, but a state of character which is one of two contraries does not

produce the contrary results; e.g. as a result of health we do not do what is the opposite of healthy, but only

what is healthy; for we say a man walks healthily, when he walks as a healthy man would.

Now often one contrary state is recognized from its contrary, and often states are recognized from the

subjects that exhibit them; for (A) if good condition is known, bad condition also becomes known, and (B)

good condition is known from the things that are in good condition, and they from it. If good condition is

firmness of flesh, it is necessary both that bad condition should be flabbiness of flesh and that the wholesome

should be that which causes firmness in flesh. And it follows for the most part that if one contrary is

ambiguous the other also will be ambiguous; e.g. if 'just' is so, that 'unjust' will be so too.

Now 'justice' and 'injustice' seem to be ambiguous, but because their different meanings approach near to one

another the ambiguity escapes notice and is not obvious as it is, comparatively, when the meanings are far

apart, e.g. (for here the difference in outward form is great) as the ambiguity in the use of kleis for the

collarbone of an animal and for that with which we lock a door. Let us take as a startingpoint, then, the

various meanings of 'an unjust man'. Both the lawless man and the grasping and unfair man are thought to be

unjust, so that evidently both the lawabiding and the fair man will be just. The just, then, is the lawful and

Since the unjust man is grasping, he must be concerned with goodsnot all goods, but those with which

prosperity and adversity have to do, which taken absolutely are always good, but for a particular person are

not always good. Now men pray for and pursue these things; but they should not, but should pray that the

things that are good absolutely may also be good for them, and should choose the things that are good for

them. The unjust man does not always choose the greater, but also the lessin the case of things bad

absolutely; but because the lesser evil is itself thought to be in a sense good, and graspingness is directed at

the good, therefore he is thought to be grasping. And he is unfair; for this contains and is common to both.

Since the lawless man was seen to be unjust and the lawabiding man just, evidently all lawful acts are in a

sense just acts; for the acts laid down by the legislative art are lawful, and each of these, we say, is just. Now

the laws in their enactments on all subjects aim at the common advantage either of all or of the best or of

those who hold power, or something of the sort; so that in one sense we call those acts just that tend to

produce and preserve happiness and its components for the political society. And the law bids us do both the

acts of a brave man (e.g. not to desert our post nor take to flight nor throw away our arms), and those of a

temperate man (e.g. not to commit adultery nor to gratify one's lust), and those of a goodtempered man (e.g.

not to strike another nor to speak evil), and similarly with regard to the other virtues and forms of

wickedness, commanding some acts and forbidding others; and the rightlyframed law does this rightly, and

the hastily conceived one less well. This form of justice, then, is complete virtue, but not absolutely, but in

relation to our neighbour. And therefore justice is often thought to be the greatest of virtues, and 'neither

evening nor morning star' is so wonderful; and proverbially 'in justice is every virtue comprehended'. And it

is complete virtue in its fullest sense, because it is the actual exercise of complete virtue. It is complete

because he who possesses it can exercise his virtue not only in himself but towards his neighbour also; for

many men can exercise virtue in their own affairs, but not in their relations to their neighbour. This is why the

saying of Bias is thought to be true, that 'rule will show the man'; for a ruler is necessarily in relation to other

men and a member of a society. For this same reason justice, alone of the virtues, is thought to be 'another's

good', because it is related to our neighbour; for it does what is advantageous to another, either a ruler or a

copartner. Now the worst man is he who exercises his wickedness both towards himself and towards his

friends, and the best man is not he who exercises his virtue towards himself but he who exercises it towards

another; for this is a difficult task. Justice in this sense, then, is not part of virtue but virtue entire, nor is the

contrary injustice a part of vice but vice entire. What the difference is between virtue and justice in this sense

is plain from what we have said; they are the same but their essence is not the same; what, as a relation to

one's neighbour, is justice is, as a certain kind of state without qualification, virtue.

But at all events what we are investigating is the justice which is a part of virtue; for there is a justice of this

kind, as we maintain. Similarly it is with injustice in the particular sense that we are concerned.

That there is such a thing is indicated by the fact that while the man who exhibits in action the other forms of

wickedness acts wrongly indeed, but not graspingly (e.g. the man who throws away his shield through

cowardice or speaks harshly through bad temper or fails to help a friend with money through meanness),

when a man acts graspingly he often exhibits none of these vices,no, nor all together, but certainly

wickedness of some kind (for we blame him) and injustice. There is, then, another kind of injustice which is a

part of injustice in the wide sense, and a use of the word 'unjust' which answers to a part of what is unjust in

the wide sense of 'contrary to the law'. Again if one man commits adultery for the sake of gain and makes

money by it, while another does so at the bidding of appetite though he loses money and is penalized for it,

the latter would be held to be selfindulgent rather than grasping, but the former is unjust, but not

selfindulgent; evidently, therefore, he is unjust by reason of his making gain by his act. Again, all other

unjust acts are ascribed invariably to some particular kind of wickedness, e.g. adultery to selfindulgence, the

desertion of a comrade in battle to cowardice, physical violence to anger; but if a man makes gain, his action

is ascribed to no form of wickedness but injustice. Evidently, therefore, there is apart from injustice in the

wide sense another, 'particular', injustice which shares the name and nature of the first, because its definition

falls within the same genus; for the significance of both consists in a relation to one's neighbour, but the one

is concerned with honour or money or safetyor that which includes all these, if we had a single name for

itand its motive is the pleasure that arises from gain; while the other is concerned with all the objects with

It is clear, then, that there is more than one kind of justice, and that there is one which is distinct from virtue

The unjust has been divided into the unlawful and the unfair, and the just into the lawful and the fair. To the

unlawful answers the aforementioned sense of injustice. But since unfair and the unlawful are not the same,

but are different as a part is from its whole (for all that is unfair is unlawful, but not all that is unlawful is

unfair), the unjust and injustice in the sense of the unfair are not the same as but different from the former

kind, as part from whole; for injustice in this sense is a part of injustice in the wide sense, and similarly

justice in the one sense of justice in the other. Therefore we must speak also about particular justice and

particular and similarly about the just and the unjust. The justice, then, which answers to the whole of virtue,

and the corresponding injustice, one being the exercise of virtue as a whole, and the other that of vice as a

whole, towards one's neighbour, we may leave on one side. And how the meanings of 'just' and 'unjust' which

answer to these are to be distinguished is evident; for practically the majority of the acts commanded by the

law are those which are prescribed from the point of view of virtue taken as a whole; for the law bids us

practise every virtue and forbids us to practise any vice. And the things that tend to produce virtue taken as a

whole are those of the acts prescribed by the law which have been prescribed with a view to education for the

common good. But with regard to the education of the individual as such, which makes him without

qualification a good man, we must determine later whether this is the function of the political art or of

another; for perhaps it is not the same to be a good man and a good citizen of any state taken at random.

Of particular justice and that which is just in the corresponding sense, (A) one kind is that which is

manifested in distributions of honour or money or the other things that fall to be divided among those who

have a share in the constitution (for in these it is possible for one man to have a share either unequal or equal

to that of another), and (B) one is that which plays a rectifying part in transactions between man and man. Of

this there are two divisions; of transactions (1) some are voluntary and (2) others involuntary voluntary such

transactions as sale, purchase, loan for consumption, pledging, loan for use, depositing, letting (they are

called voluntary because the origin of these transactions is voluntary), while of the involuntary (a) some are

clandestine, such as theft, adultery, poisoning, procuring, enticement of slaves, assassination, false witness,

and (b) others are violent, such as assault, imprisonment, murder, robbery with violence, mutilation, abuse,

(A) We have shown that both the unjust man and the unjust act are unfair or unequal; now it is clear that there

is also an intermediate between the two unequals involved in either case. And this is the equal; for in any kind

of action in which there's a more and a less there is also what is equal. If, then, the unjust is unequal, just is

equal, as all men suppose it to be, even apart from argument. And since the equal is intermediate, the just will

be an intermediate. Now equality implies at least two things. The just, then, must be both intermediate and

equal and relative (i.e. for certain persons). And since the equall intermediate it must be between certain

things (which are respectively greater and less); equal, it involves two things; qua just, it is for certain people.

The just, therefore, involves at least four terms; for the persons for whom it is in fact just are two, and the

things in which it is manifested, the objects distributed, are two. And the same equality will exist between the

persons and between the things concerned; for as the latter the things concernedare related, so are the

former; if they are not equal, they will not have what is equal, but this is the origin of quarrels and

complaintswhen either equals have and are awarded unequal shares, or unequals equal shares. Further, this

is plain from the fact that awards should be 'according to merit'; for all men agree that what is just in

distribution must be according to merit in some sense, though they do not all specify the same sort of merit,

but democrats identify it with the status of freeman, supporters of oligarchy with wealth (or with noble birth),

The just, then, is a species of the proportionate (proportion being not a property only of the kind of number

which consists of abstract units, but of number in general). For proportion is equality of ratios, and involves

four terms at least (that discrete proportion involves four terms is plain, but so does continuous proportion,

for it uses one term as two and mentions it twice; e.g. 'as the line A is to the line B, so is the line B to the line

C'; the line B, then, has been mentioned twice, so that if the line B be assumed twice, the proportional terms

will be four); and the just, too, involves at least four terms, and the ratio between one pair is the same as that

between the other pair; for there is a similar distinction between the persons and between the things. As the

term A, then, is to B, so will C be to D, and therefore, alternando, as A is to C, B will be to D. Therefore also

the whole is in the same ratio to the whole; and this coupling the distribution effects, and, if the terms are so

combined, effects justly. The conjunction, then, of the term A with C and of B with D is what is just in

distribution, and this species of the just is intermediate, and the unjust is what violates the proportion; for the

proportional is intermediate, and the just is proportional. (Mathematicians call this kind of proportion

geometrical; for it is in geometrical proportion that it follows that the whole is to the whole as either part is to

the corresponding part.) This proportion is not continuous; for we cannot get a single term standing for a

This, then, is what the just isthe proportional; the unjust is what violates the proportion. Hence one term

becomes too great, the other too small, as indeed happens in practice; for the man who acts unjustly has too

much, and the man who is unjustly treated too little, of what is good. In the case of evil the reverse is true; for

the lesser evil is reckoned a good in comparison with the greater evil, since the lesser evil is rather to be

chosen than the greater, and what is worthy of choice is good, and what is worthier of choice a greater good.

(B) The remaining one is the rectificatory, which arises in connexion with transactions both voluntary and

involuntary. This form of the just has a different specific character from the former. For the justice which

distributes common possessions is always in accordance with the kind of proportion mentioned above (for in

the case also in which the distribution is made from the common funds of a partnership it will be according to

the same ratio which the funds put into the business by the partners bear to one another); and the injustice

opposed to this kind of justice is that which violates the proportion. But the justice in transactions between

man and man is a sort of equality indeed, and the injustice a sort of inequality; not according to that kind of

proportion, however, but according to arithmetical proportion. For it makes no difference whether a good

man has defrauded a bad man or a bad man a good one, nor whether it is a good or a bad man that has

committed adultery; the law looks only to the distinctive character of the injury, and treats the parties as

equal, if one is in the wrong and the other is being wronged, and if one inflicted injury and the other has

received it. Therefore, this kind of injustice being an inequality, the judge tries to equalize it; for in the case

also in which one has received and the other has inflicted a wound, or one has slain and the other been slain,

the suffering and the action have been unequally distributed; but the judge tries to equalize by means of the

penalty, taking away from the gain of the assailant. For the term 'gain' is applied generally to such cases, even

if it be not a term appropriate to certain cases, e.g. to the person who inflicts a woundand 'loss' to the sufferer;

at all events when the suffering has been estimated, the one is called loss and the other gain. Therefore the

equal is intermediate between the greater and the less, but the gain and the loss are respectively greater and

less in contrary ways; more of the good and less of the evil are gain, and the contrary is loss; intermediate

between them is, as we saw, equal, which we say is just; therefore corrective justice will be the intermediate

between loss and gain. This is why, when people dispute, they take refuge in the judge; and to go to the judge

is to go to justice; for the nature of the judge is to be a sort of animate justice; and they seek the judge as an

intermediate, and in some states they call judges mediators, on the assumption that if they get what is

intermediate they will get what is just. The just, then, is an intermediate, since the judge is so. Now the judge

restores equality; it is as though there were a line divided into unequal parts, and he took away that by which

the greater segment exceeds the half, and added it to the smaller segment. And when the whole has been

equally divided, then they say they have 'their own'i.e. when they have got what is equal. The equal is

intermediate between the greater and the lesser line according to arithmetical proportion. It is for this reason

also that it is called just (sikaion), because it is a division into two equal parts (sicha), just as if one were to

call it sichaion; and the judge (sikastes) is one who bisects (sichastes). For when something is subtracted from

one of two equals and added to the other, the other is in excess by these two; since if what was taken from the

one had not been added to the other, the latter would have been in excess by one only. It therefore exceeds the

intermediate by one, and the intermediate exceeds by one that from which something was taken. By this,

then, we shall recognize both what we must subtract from that which has more, and what we must add to that

which has less; we must add to the latter that by which the intermediate exceeds it, and subtract from the

greatest that by which it exceeds the intermediate. Let the lines AA', BB', CC' be equal to one another; from

the line AA' let the segment AE have been subtracted, and to the line CC' let the segment CD have been

added, so that the whole line DCC' exceeds the line EA' by the segment CD and the segment CF; therefore it

These names, both loss and gain, have come from voluntary exchange; for to have more than one's own is

called gaining, and to have less than one's original share is called losing, e.g. in buying and selling and in all

other matters in which the law has left people free to make their own terms; but when they get neither more

nor less but just what belongs to themselves, they say that they have their own and that they neither lose nor

Therefore the just is intermediate between a sort of gain and a sort of loss, viz. those which are involuntary; it

Some think that reciprocity is without qualification just, as the Pythagoreans said; for they defined justice

without qualification as reciprocity. Now 'reciprocity' fits neither distributive nor rectificatory justiceyet

Should a man suffer what he did, right justice would be done for in many cases reciprocity and rectificatory

justice are not in accord; e.g. (1) if an official has inflicted a wound, he should not be wounded in return, and

if some one has wounded an official, he ought not to be wounded only but punished in addition. Further (2)

there is a great difference between a voluntary and an involuntary act. But in associations for exchange this

sort of justice does hold men togetherreciprocity in accordance with a proportion and not on the basis of

precisely equal return. For it is by proportionate requital that the city holds together. Men seek to return either

evil for eviland if they cana not do so, think their position mere slaveryor good for goodand if they

cannot do so there is no exchange, but it is by exchange that they hold together. This is why they give a

prominent place to the temple of the Gracesto promote the requital of services; for this is characteristic of

gracewe should serve in return one who has shown grace to us, and should another time take the initiative in

Now proportionate return is secured by crossconjunction. Let A be a builder, B a shoemaker, C a house, D a

shoe. The builder, then, must get from the shoemaker the latter's work, and must himself give him in return

his own. If, then, first there is proportionate equality of goods, and then reciprocal action takes place, the

result we mention will be effected. If not, the bargain is not equal, and does not hold; for there is nothing to

prevent the work of the one being better than that of the other; they must therefore be equated. (And this is

true of the other arts also; for they would have been destroyed if what the patient suffered had not been just

what the agent did, and of the same amount and kind.) For it is not two doctors that associate for exchange,

but a doctor and a farmer, or in general people who are different and unequal; but these must be equated. This

is why all things that are exchanged must be somehow comparable. It is for this end that money has been

introduced, and it becomes in a sense an intermediate; for it measures all things, and therefore the excess and

the defecthow many shoes are equal to a house or to a given amount of food. The number of shoes

exchanged for a house (or for a given amount of food) must therefore correspond to the ratio of builder to

shoemaker. For if this be not so, there will be no exchange and no intercourse. And this proportion will not be

effected unless the goods are somehow equal. All goods must therefore be measured by some one thing, as

we said before. Now this unit is in truth demand, which holds all things together (for if men did not need one

another's goods at all, or did not need them equally, there would be either no exchange or not the same

exchange); but money has become by convention a sort of representative of demand; and this is why it has

the name 'money' (nomisma)because it exists not by nature but by law (nomos) and it is in our power to

change it and make it useless. There will, then, be reciprocity when the terms have been equated so that as

farmer is to shoemaker, the amount of the shoemaker's work is to that of the farmer's work for which it

exchanges. But we must not bring them into a figure of proportion when they have already exchanged

(otherwise one extreme will have both excesses), but when they still have their own goods. Thus they are

equals and associates just because this equality can be effected in their case. Let A be a farmer, C food, B a

shoemaker, D his product equated to C. If it had not been possible for reciprocity to be thus effected, there

would have been no association of the parties. That demand holds things together as a single unit is shown by

the fact that when men do not need one another, i.e. when neither needs the other or one does not need the

other, they do not exchange, as we do when some one wants what one has oneself, e.g. when people permit

the exportation of corn in exchange for wine. This equation therefore must be established. And for the future

exchangethat if we do not need a thing now we shall have it if ever we do need itmoney is as it were our

surety; for it must be possible for us to get what we want by bringing the money. Now the same thing

happens to money itself as to goodsit is not always worth the same; yet it tends to be steadier. This is why

all goods must have a price set on them; for then there will always be exchange, and if so, association of man

with man. Money, then, acting as a measure, makes goods commensurate and equates them; for neither

would there have been association if there were not exchange, nor exchange if there were not equality, nor

equality if there were not commensurability. Now in truth it is impossible that things differing so much

should become commensurate, but with reference to demand they may become so sufficiently. There must,

then, be a unit, and that fixed by agreement (for which reason it is called money); for it is this that makes all

things commensurate, since all things are measured by money. Let A be a house, B ten minae, C a bed. A is

half of B, if the house is worth five minae or equal to them; the bed, C, is a tenth of B; it is plain, then, how

many beds are equal to a house, viz. five. That exchange took place thus before there was money is plain; for

it makes no difference whether it is five beds that exchange for a house, or the money value of five beds.

We have now defined the unjust and the just. These having been marked off from each other, it is plain that

just action is intermediate between acting unjustly and being unjustly treated; for the one is to have too much

and the other to have too little. Justice is a kind of mean, but not in the same way as the other virtues, but

because it relates to an intermediate amount, while injustice relates to the extremes. And justice is that in

virtue of which the just man is said to be a doer, by choice, of that which is just, and one who will distribute

either between himself and another or between two others not so as to give more of what is desirable to

himself and less to his neighbour (and conversely with what is harmful), but so as to give what is equal in

accordance with proportion; and similarly in distributing between two other persons. Injustice on the other

hand is similarly related to the unjust, which is excess and defect, contrary to proportion, of the useful or

hurtful. For which reason injustice is excess and defect, viz. because it is productive of excess and defectin

one's own case excess of what is in its own nature useful and defect of what is hurtful, while in the case of

others it is as a whole like what it is in one's own case, but proportion may be violated in either direction. In

the unjust act to have too little is to be unjustly treated; to have too much is to act unjustly.

Let this be taken as our account of the nature of justice and injustice, and similarly of the just and the unjust

Since acting unjustly does not necessarily imply being unjust, we must ask what sort of unjust acts imply that

the doer is unjust with respect to each type of injustice, e.g. a thief, an adulterer, or a brigand. Surely the

answer does not turn on the difference between these types. For a man might even lie with a woman knowing

who she was, but the origin of his might be not deliberate choice but passion. He acts unjustly, then, but is

not unjust; e.g. a man is not a thief, yet he stole, nor an adulterer, yet he committed adultery; and similarly in

Now we have previously stated how the reciprocal is related to the just; but we must not forget that what we

are looking for is not only what is just without qualification but also political justice. This is found among

men who share their life with a view to selfsufficiency, men who are free and either proportionately or

arithmetically equal, so that between those who do not fulfil this condition there is no political justice but

justice in a special sense and by analogy. For justice exists only between men whose mutual relations are

governed by law; and law exists for men between whom there is injustice; for legal justice is the

discrimination of the just and the unjust. And between men between whom there is injustice there is also

unjust action (though there is not injustice between all between whom there is unjust action), and this is

assigning too much to oneself of things good in themselves and too little of things evil in themselves. This is

why we do not allow a man to rule, but rational principle, because a man behaves thus in his own interests

and becomes a tyrant. The magistrate on the other hand is the guardian of justice, and, if of justice, then of

equality also. And since he is assumed to have no more than his share, if he is just (for he does not assign to

himself more of what is good in itself, unless such a share is proportional to his meritsso that it is for others

that he labours, and it is for this reason that men, as we stated previously, say that justice is 'another's good'),

therefore a reward must be given him, and this is honour and privilege; but those for whom such things are

The justice of a master and that of a father are not the same as the justice of citizens, though they are like it;

for there can be no injustice in the unqualified sense towards thing that are one's own, but a man's chattel, and

his child until it reaches a certain age and sets up for itself, are as it were part of himself, and no one chooses

to hurt himself (for which reason there can be no injustice towards oneself). Therefore the justice or injustice

of citizens is not manifested in these relations; for it was as we saw according to law, and between people

naturally subject to law, and these as we saw' are people who have an equal share in ruling and being ruled.

Hence justice can more truly be manifested towards a wife than towards children and chattels, for the former

Of political justice part is natural, part legal, natural, that which everywhere has the same force and does not

exist by people's thinking this or that; legal, that which is originally indifferent, but when it has been laid

down is not indifferent, e.g. that a prisoner's ransom shall be a mina, or that a goat and not two sheep shall be

sacrificed, and again all the laws that are passed for particular cases, e.g. that sacrifice shall be made in

honour of Brasidas, and the provisions of decrees. Now some think that all justice is of this sort, because that

which is by nature is unchangeable and has everywhere the same force (as fire burns both here and in Persia),

while they see change in the things recognized as just. This, however, is not true in this unqualified way, but

is true in a sense; or rather, with the gods it is perhaps not true at all, while with us there is something that is

just even by nature, yet all of it is changeable; but still some is by nature, some not by nature. It is evident

which sort of thing, among things capable of being otherwise, is by nature, and which is not but is legal and

conventional, assuming that both are equally changeable. And in all other things the same distinction will

apply; by nature the right hand is stronger, yet it is possible that all men should come to be ambidextrous. The

things which are just by virtue of convention and expediency are like measures; for wine and corn measures

are not everywhere equal, but larger in wholesale and smaller in retail markets. Similarly, the things which

are just not by nature but by human enactment are not everywhere the same, since constitutions also are not

the same, though there is but one which is everywhere by nature the best. Of things just and lawful each is

related as the universal to its particulars; for the things that are done are many, but of them each is one, since

There is a difference between the act of injustice and what is unjust, and between the act of justice and what

is just; for a thing is unjust by nature or by enactment; and this very thing, when it has been done, is an act of

injustice, but before it is done is not yet that but is unjust. So, too, with an act of justice (though the general

term is rather 'just action', and 'act of justice' is applied to the correction of the act of injustice).

Each of these must later be examined separately with regard to the nature and number of its species and the

Acts just and unjust being as we have described them, a man acts unjustly or justly whenever he does such

acts voluntarily; when involuntarily, he acts neither unjustly nor justly except in an incidental way; for he

does things which happen to be just or unjust. Whether an act is or is not one of injustice (or of justice) is

determined by its voluntariness or involuntariness; for when it is voluntary it is blamed, and at the same time

is then an act of injustice; so that there will be things that are unjust but not yet acts of injustice, if

voluntariness be not present as well. By the voluntary I mean, as has been said before, any of the things in a

man's own power which he does with knowledge, i.e. not in ignorance either of the person acted on or of the

instrument used or of the end that will be attained (e.g. whom he is striking, with what, and to what end),

each such act being done not incidentally nor under compulsion (e.g. if A takes B's hand and therewith strikes

C, B does not act voluntarily; for the act was not in his own power). The person struck may be the striker's

father, and the striker may know that it is a man or one of the persons present, but not know that it is his

father; a similar distinction may be made in the case of the end, and with regard to the whole action.

Therefore that which is done in ignorance, or though not done in ignorance is not in the agent's power, or is

done under compulsion, is involuntary (for many natural processes, even, we knowingly both perform and

experience, none of which is either voluntary or involuntary; e.g. growing old or dying). But in the case of

unjust and just acts alike the injustice or justice may be only incidental; for a man might return a deposit

unwillingly and from fear, and then he must not be said either to do what is just or to act justly, except in an

incidental way. Similarly the man who under compulsion and unwillingly fails to return the deposit must be

said to act unjustly, and to do what is unjust, only incidentally. Of voluntary acts we do some by choice,

others not by choice; by choice those which we do after deliberation, not by choice those which we do

without previous deliberation. Thus there are three kinds of injury in transactions between man and man;

those done in ignorance are mistakes when the person acted on, the act, the instrument, or the end that will be

attained is other than the agent supposed; the agent thought either that he was not hiting any one or that he

was not hitting with this missile or not hitting this person or to this end, but a result followed other than that

which he thought likely (e.g. he threw not with intent to wound but only to prick), or the person hit or the

missile was other than he supposed. Now when (1) the injury takes place contrary to reasonable expectation,

it is a misadventure. When (2) it is not contrary to reasonable expectation, but does not imply vice, it is a

mistake (for a man makes a mistake when the fault originates in him, but is the victim of accident when the

origin lies outside him). When (3) he acts with knowledge but not after deliberation, it is an act of

injusticee.g. the acts due to anger or to other passions necessary or natural to man; for when men do such

harmful and mistaken acts they act unjustly, and the acts are acts of injustice, but this does not imply that the

doers are unjust or wicked; for the injury is not due to vice. But when (4) a man acts from choice, he is an

Hence acts proceeding from anger are rightly judged not to be done of malice aforethought; for it is not the

man who acts in anger but he who enraged him that starts the mischief. Again, the matter in dispute is not

whether the thing happened or not, but its justice; for it is apparent injustice that occasions rage. For they do

not dispute about the occurrence of the actas in commercial transactions where one of the two parties must

be viciousunless they do so owing to forgetfulness; but, agreeing about the fact, they dispute on which side

justice lies (whereas a man who has deliberately injured another cannot help knowing that he has done so), so

But if a man harms another by choice, he acts unjustly; and these are the acts of injustice which imply that the

doer is an unjust man, provided that the act violates proportion or equality. Similarly, a man is just when he

Of involuntary acts some are excusable, others not. For the mistakes which men make not only in ignorance

but also from ignorance are excusable, while those which men do not from ignorance but (though they do

them in ignorance) owing to a passion which is neither natural nor such as man is liable to, are not excusable.

Assuming that we have sufficiently defined the suffering and doing of injustice, it may be asked (1) whether

Is it truly possible to be willingly treated unjustly, or is all suffering of injustice the contrary involuntary, as

all unjust action is voluntary? And is all suffering of injustice of the latter kind or else all of the former, or is

it sometimes voluntary, sometimes involuntary? So, too, with the case of being justly treated; all just action is

voluntary, so that it is reasonable that there should be a similar opposition in either casethat both being

unjustly and being justly treated should be either alike voluntary or alike involuntary. But it would be thought

paradoxical even in the case of being justly treated, if it were always voluntary; for some are unwillingly

treated justly. (2) One might raise this question also, whether every one who has suffered what is unjust is

being unjustly treated, or on the other hand it is with suffering as with acting. In action and in passivity alike

it is possible to partake of justice incidentally, and similarly (it is plain) of injustice; for to do what is unjust is

not the same as to act unjustly, nor to suffer what is unjust as to be treated unjustly, and similarly in the case

of acting justly and being justly treated; for it is impossible to be unjustly treated if the other does not act

unjustly, or justly treated unless he acts justly. Now if to act unjustly is simply to harm some one voluntarily,

and 'voluntarily' means 'knowing the person acted on, the instrument, and the manner of one's acting', and the

incontinent man voluntarily harms himself, not only will he voluntarily be unjustly treated but it will be

possible to treat oneself unjustly. (This also is one of the questions in doubt, whether a man can treat himself

unjustly.) Again, a man may voluntarily, owing to incontinence, be harmed by another who acts voluntarily,

so that it would be possible to be voluntarily treated unjustly. Or is our definition incorrect; must we to

'harming another, with knowledge both of the person acted on, of the instrument, and of the manner' add

'contrary to the wish of the person acted on'? Then a man may be voluntarily harmed and voluntarily suffer

what is unjust, but no one is voluntarily treated unjustly; for no one wishes to be unjustly treated, not even the

incontinent man. He acts contrary to his wish; for no one wishes for what he does not think to be good, but

the incontinent man does do things that he does not think he ought to do. Again, one who gives what is his

Armour of gold for brazen, the price of a hundred beeves for nine, is not unjustly treated; for though to give is

in his power, to be unjustly treated is not, but there must be some one to treat him unjustly. It is plain, then,

Of the questions we intended to discuss two still remain for discussion; (3) whether it is the man who has

assigned to another more than his share that acts unjustly, or he who has the excessive share, and (4) whether

it is possible to treat oneself unjustly. The questions are connected; for if the former alternative is possible

and the distributor acts unjustly and not the man who has the excessive share, then if a man assigns more to

another than to himself, knowingly and voluntarily, he treats himself unjustly; which is what modest people

seem to do, since the virtuous man tends to take less than his share. Or does this statement too need

qualification? For (a) he perhaps gets more than his share of some other good, e.g. of honour or of intrinsic

nobility. (b) The question is solved by applying the distinction we applied to unjust action; for he suffers

nothing contrary to his own wish, so that he is not unjustly treated as far as this goes, but at most only suffers

It is plain too that the distributor acts unjustly, but not always the man who has the excessive share; for it is

not he to whom what is unjust appertains that acts unjustly, but he to whom it appertains to do the unjust act

voluntarily, i.e. the person in whom lies the origin of the action, and this lies in the distributor, not in the

receiver. Again, since the word 'do' is ambiguous, and there is a sense in which lifeless things, or a hand, or a

servant who obeys an order, may be said to slay, he who gets an excessive share does not act unjustly, though

Again, if the distributor gave his judgement in ignorance, he does not act unjustly in respect of legal justice,

and his judgement is not unjust in this sense, but in a sense it is unjust (for legal justice and primordial justice

are different); but if with knowledge he judged unjustly, he is himself aiming at an excessive share either of

gratitude or of revenge. As much, then, as if he were to share in the plunder, the man who has judged unjustly

for these reasons has got too much; the fact that what he gets is different from what he distributes makes no

difference, for even if he awards land with a view to sharing in the plunder he gets not land but money.

Men think that acting unjustly is in their power, and therefore that being just is easy. But it is not; to lie with

one's neighbour's wife, to wound another, to deliver a bribe, is easy and in our power, but to do these things

as a result of a certain state of character is neither easy nor in our power. Similarly to know what is just and

what is unjust requires, men think, no great wisdom, because it is not hard to understand the matters dealt

with by the laws (though these are not the things that are just, except incidentally); but how actions must be

done and distributions effected in order to be just, to know this is a greater achievement than knowing what is

good for the health; though even there, while it is easy to know that honey, wine, hellebore, cautery, and the

use of the knife are so, to know how, to whom, and when these should be applied with a view to producing

health, is no less an achievement than that of being a physician. Again, for this very reason men think that

acting unjustly is characteristic of the just man no less than of the unjust, because he would be not less but

even more capable of doing each of these unjust acts; for he could lie with a woman or wound a neighbour;

and the brave man could throw away his shield and turn to flight in this direction or in that. But to play the

coward or to act unjustly consists not in doing these things, except incidentally, but in doing them as the

result of a certain state of character, just as to practise medicine and healing consists not in applying or not

applying the knife, in using or not using medicines, but in doing so in a certain way.

Just acts occur between people who participate in things good in themselves and can have too much or too

little of them; for some beings (e.g. presumably the gods) cannot have too much of them, and to others, those

who are incurably bad, not even the smallest share in them is beneficial but all such goods are harmful, while

to others they are beneficial up to a point; therefore justice is essentially something human.

Our next subject is equity and the equitable (to epiekes), and their respective relations to justice and the just.

For on examination they appear to be neither absolutely the same nor generically different; and while we

sometime praise what is equitable and the equitable man (so that we apply the name by way of praise even to

instances of the other virtues, instead of 'good' meaning by epieikestebon that a thing is better), at other times,

when we reason it out, it seems strange if the equitable, being something different from the just, is yet

praiseworthy; for either the just or the equitable is not good, if they are different; or, if both are good, they are

These, then, are pretty much the considerations that give rise to the problem about the equitable; they are all

in a sense correct and not opposed to one another; for the equitable, though it is better than one kind of

justice, yet is just, and it is not as being a different class of thing that it is better than the just. The same thing,

then, is just and equitable, and while both are good the equitable is superior. What creates the problem is that

the equitable is just, but not the legally just but a correction of legal justice. The reason is that all law is

universal but about some things it is not possible to make a universal statement which shall be correct. In

those cases, then, in which it is necessary to speak universally, but not possible to do so correctly, the law

takes the usual case, though it is not ignorant of the possibility of error. And it is none the less correct; for the

error is in the law nor in the legislator but in the nature of the thing, since the matter of practical affairs is of

this kind from the start. When the law speaks universally, then, and a case arises on it which is not covered by

the universal statement, then it is right, where the legislator fails us and has erred by oversimplicity, to correct

the omissionto say what the legislator himself would have said had he been present, and would have put into

his law if he had known. Hence the equitable is just, and better than one kind of justicenot better than

absolute justice but better than the error that arises from the absoluteness of the statement. And this is the

nature of the equitable, a correction of law where it is defective owing to its universality. In fact this is the

reason why all things are not determined by law, that about some things it is impossible to lay down a law, so

that a decree is needed. For when the thing is indefinite the rule also is indefinite, like the leaden rule used in

making the Lesbian moulding; the rule adapts itself to the shape of the stone and is not rigid, and so too the

It is plain, then, what the equitable is, and that it is just and is better than one kind of justice. It is evident also

from this who the equitable man is; the man who chooses and does such acts, and is no stickler for his rights

in a bad sense but tends to take less than his share though he has the law oft his side, is equitable, and this

state of character is equity, which is a sort of justice and not a different state of character.

Whether a man can treat himself unjustly or not, is evident from what has been said. For (a) one class of just

acts are those acts in accordance with any virtue which are prescribed by the law; e.g. the law does not

expressly permit suicide, and what it does not expressly permit it forbids. Again, when a man in violation of

the law harms another (otherwise than in retaliation) voluntarily, he acts unjustly, and a voluntary agent is

one who knows both the person he is affecting by his action and the instrument he is using; and he who

through anger voluntarily stabs himself does this contrary to the right rule of life, and this the law does not

allow; therefore he is acting unjustly. But towards whom? Surely towards the state, not towards himself. For

he suffers voluntarily, but no one is voluntarily treated unjustly. This is also the reason why the state

punishes; a certain loss of civil rights attaches to the man who destroys himself, on the ground that he is

Further (b) in that sense of 'acting unjustly' in which the man who 'acts unjustly' is unjust only and not bad all

round, it is not possible to treat oneself unjustly (this is different from the former sense; the unjust man in one

sense of the term is wicked in a particularized way just as the coward is, not in the sense of being wicked all

round, so that his 'unjust act' does not manifest wickedness in general). For (i) that would imply the

possibility of the same thing's having been subtracted from and added to the same thing at the same time; but

this is impossiblethe just and the unjust always involve more than one person. Further, (ii) unjust action is

voluntary and done by choice, and takes the initiative (for the man who because he has suffered does the

same in return is not thought to act unjustly); but if a man harms himself he suffers and does the same things

at the same time. Further, (iii) if a man could treat himself unjustly, he could be voluntarily treated unjustly.

Besides, (iv) no one acts unjustly without committing particular acts of injustice; but no one can commit

adultery with his own wife or housebreaking on his own house or theft on his own property,

In general, the question 'can a man treat himself unjustly?' is solved also by the distinction we applied to the

(It is evident too that both are bad, being unjustly treated and acting unjustly; for the one means having less

and the other having more than the intermediate amount, which plays the part here that the healthy does in the

medical art, and that good condition does in the art of bodily training. But still acting unjustly is the worse,

for it involves vice and is blameworthyinvolves vice which is either of the complete and unqualified kind or

almost so (we must admit the latter alternative, because not all voluntary unjust action implies injustice as a

state of character), while being unjustly treated does not involve vice and injustice in oneself. In itself, then,

being unjustly treated is less bad, but there is nothing to prevent its being incidentally a greater evil. But

theory cares nothing for this; it calls pleurisy a more serious mischief than a stumble; yet the latter may

become incidentally the more serious, if the fall due to it leads to your being taken prisoner or put to death the

Metaphorically and in virtue of a certain resemblance there is a justice, not indeed between a man and

himself, but between certain parts of him; yet not every kind of justice but that of master and servant or that

of husband and wife. For these are the ratios in which the part of the soul that has a rational principle stands

to the irrational part; and it is with a view to these parts that people also think a man can be unjust to himself,

viz. because these parts are liable to suffer something contrary to their respective desires; there is therefore

Let this be taken as our account of justice and the other, i.e. the other moral, virtues.

SINCE we have previously said that one ought to choose that which is intermediate, not the excess nor the

defect, and that the intermediate is determined by the dictates of the right rule, let us discuss the nature of

these dictates. In all the states of character we have mentioned, as in all other matters, there is a mark to

which the man who has the rule looks, and heightens or relaxes his activity accordingly, and there is a

standard which determines the mean states which we say are intermediate between excess and defect, being

in accordance with the right rule. But such a statement, though true, is by no means clear; for not only here

but in all other pursuits which are objects of knowledge it is indeed true to say that we must not exert

ourselves nor relax our efforts too much nor too little, but to an intermediate extent and as the right rule

dictates; but if a man had only this knowledge he would be none the wiser e.g. we should not know what sort

of medicines to apply to our body if some one were to say 'all those which the medical art prescribes, and

which agree with the practice of one who possesses the art'. Hence it is necessary with regard to the states of

the soul also not only that this true statement should be made, but also that it should be determined what is

We divided the virtues of the soul and a said that some are virtues of character and others of intellect. Now

we have discussed in detail the moral virtues; with regard to the others let us express our view as follows,

beginning with some remarks about the soul. We said before that there are two parts of the soulthat which

grasps a rule or rational principle, and the irrational; let us now draw a similar distinction within the part

which grasps a rational principle. And let it be assumed that there are two parts which grasp a rational

principleone by which we contemplate the kind of things whose originative causes are invariable, and one

by which we contemplate variable things; for where objects differ in kind the part of the soul answering to

each of the two is different in kind, since it is in virtue of a certain likeness and kinship with their objects that

they have the knowledge they have. Let one of these parts be called the scientific and the other the

calculative; for to deliberate and to calculate are the same thing, but no one deliberates about the invariable.

Therefore the calculative is one part of the faculty which grasps a rational principle. We must, then, learn

what is the best state of each of these two parts; for this is the virtue of each.

The virtue of a thing is relative to its proper work. Now there are three things in the soul which control action

Of these sensation originates no action; this is plain from the fact that the lower animals have sensation but

What affirmation and negation are in thinking, pursuit and avoidance are in desire; so that since moral virtue

is a state of character concerned with choice, and choice is deliberate desire, therefore both the reasoning

must be true and the desire right, if the choice is to be good, and the latter must pursue just what the former

asserts. Now this kind of intellect and of truth is practical; of the intellect which is contemplative, not

practical nor productive, the good and the bad state are truth and falsity respectively (for this is the work of

everything intellectual); while of the part which is practical and intellectual the good state is truth in

The origin of actionits efficient, not its final causeis choice, and that of choice is desire and reasoning with

a view to an end. This is why choice cannot exist either without reason and intellect or without a moral state;

for good action and its opposite cannot exist without a combination of intellect and character. Intellect itself,

however, moves nothing, but only the intellect which aims at an end and is practical; for this rules the

productive intellect, as well, since every one who makes makes for an end, and that which is made is not an

end in the unqualified sense (but only an end in a particular relation, and the end of a particular

operation)only that which is done is that; for good action is an end, and desire aims at this. Hence choice is

either desiderative reason or ratiocinative desire, and such an origin of action is a man. (It is to be noted that

nothing that is past is an object of choice, e.g. no one chooses to have sacked Troy; for no one deliberates

about the past, but about what is future and capable of being otherwise, while what is past is not capable of

The work of both the intellectual parts, then, is truth. Therefore the states that are most strictly those in

respect of which each of these parts will reach truth are the virtues of the two parts.

Let us begin, then, from the beginning, and discuss these states once more. Let it be assumed that the states

by virtue of which the soul possesses truth by way of affirmation or denial are five in number, i.e. art,

scientific knowledge, practical wisdom, philosophic wisdom, intuitive reason; we do not include judgement

Now what scientific knowledge is, if we are to speak exactly and not follow mere similarities, is plain from

what follows. We all suppose that what we know is not even capable of being otherwise; of things capable of

being otherwise we do not know, when they have passed outside our observation, whether they exist or not.

Therefore the object of scientific knowledge is of necessity. Therefore it is eternal; for things that are of

necessity in the unqualified sense are all eternal; and things that are eternal are ungenerated and imperishable.

Again, every science is thought to be capable of being taught, and its object of being learned. And all

teaching starts from what is already known, as we maintain in the Analytics also; for it proceeds sometimes

through induction and sometimes by syllogism. Now induction is the startingpoint which knowledge even

of the universal presupposes, while syllogism proceeds from universals. There are therefore startingpoints

from which syllogism proceeds, which are not reached by syllogism; it is therefore by induction that they are

acquired. Scientific knowledge is, then, a state of capacity to demonstrate, and has the other limiting

characteristics which we specify in the Analytics, for it is when a man believes in a certain way and the

startingpoints are known to him that he has scientific knowledge, since if they are not better known to him

In the variable are included both things made and things done; making and acting are different (for their

nature we treat even the discussions outside our school as reliable); so that the reasoned state of capacity to

act is different from the reasoned state of capacity to make. Hence too they are not included one in the other;

for neither is acting making nor is making acting. Now since architecture is an art and is essentially a

reasoned state of capacity to make, and there is neither any art that is not such a state nor any such state that

is not an art, art is identical with a state of capacity to make, involving a true course of reasoning. All art is

concerned with coming into being, i.e. with contriving and considering how something may come into being

which is capable of either being or not being, and whose origin is in the maker and not in the thing made; for

art is concerned neither with things that are, or come into being, by necessity, nor with things that do so in

accordance with nature (since these have their origin in themselves). Making and acting being different, art

must be a matter of making, not of acting. And in a sense chance and art are concerned with the same objects;

as Agathon says, 'art loves chance and chance loves art'. Art, then, as has been is a state concerned with

making, involving a true course of reasoning, and lack of art on the contrary is a state concerned with

making, involving a false course of reasoning; both are concerned with the variable.

Regarding practical wisdom we shall get at the truth by considering who are the persons we credit with it.

Now it is thought to be the mark of a man of practical wisdom to be able to deliberate well about what is

good and expedient for himself, not in some particular respect, e.g. about what sorts of thing conduce to

health or to strength, but about what sorts of thing conduce to the good life in general. This is shown by the

fact that we credit men with practical wisdom in some particular respect when they have calculated well with

a view to some good end which is one of those that are not the object of any art. It follows that in the general

sense also the man who is capable of deliberating has practical wisdom. Now no one deliberates about things

that are invariable, nor about things that it is impossible for him to do. Therefore, since scientific knowledge

involves demonstration, but there is no demonstration of things whose first principles are variable (for all

such things might actually be otherwise), and since it is impossible to deliberate about things that are of

necessity, practical wisdom cannot be scientific knowledge nor art; not science because that which can be

done is capable of being otherwise, not art because action and making are different kinds of thing. The

remaining alternative, then, is that it is a true and reasoned state of capacity to act with regard to the things

that are good or bad for man. For while making has an end other than itself, action cannot; for good action

itself is its end. It is for this reason that we think Pericles and men like him have practical wisdom, viz.

because they can see what is good for themselves and what is good for men in general; we consider that those

can do this who are good at managing households or states. (This is why we call temperance (sophrosune) by

this name; we imply that it preserves one's practical wisdom (sozousa tan phronsin). Now what it preserves is

a judgement of the kind we have described. For it is not any and every judgement that pleasant and painful

objects destroy and pervert, e.g. the judgement that the triangle has or has not its angles equal to two right

angles, but only judgements about what is to be done. For the originating causes of the things that are done

consist in the end at which they are aimed; but the man who has been ruined by pleasure or pain forthwith

fails to see any such originating causeto see that for the sake of this or because of this he ought to choose

and do whatever he chooses and does; for vice is destructive of the originating cause of action.) Practical

wisdom, then, must be a reasoned and true state of capacity to act with regard to human goods. But further,

while there is such a thing as excellence in art, there is no such thing as excellence in practical wisdom; and

in art he who errs willingly is preferable, but in practical wisdom, as in the virtues, he is the reverse. Plainly,

then, practical wisdom is a virtue and not an art. There being two parts of the soul that can follow a course of

reasoning, it must be the virtue of one of the two, i.e. of that part which forms opinions; for opinion is about

the variable and so is practical wisdom. But yet it is not only a reasoned state; this is shown by the fact that a

Scientific knowledge is judgement about things that are universal and necessary, and the conclusions of

demonstration, and all scientific knowledge, follow from first principles (for scientific knowledge involves

apprehension of a rational ground). This being so, the first principle from which what is scientifically known

follows cannot be an object of scientific knowledge, of art, or of practical wisdom; for that which can be

scientifically known can be demonstrated, and art and practical wisdom deal with things that are variable.

Nor are these first principles the objects of philosophic wisdom, for it is a mark of the philosopher to have

demonstration about some things. If, then, the states of mind by which we have truth and are never deceived

about things invariable or even variable are scientific knowlededge, practical wisdom, philosophic wisdom,

and intuitive reason, and it cannot be any of the three (i.e. practical wisdom, scientific knowledge, or

philosophic wisdom), the remaining alternative is that it is intuitive reason that grasps the first principles.

Wisdom (1) in the arts we ascribe to their most finished exponents, e.g. to Phidias as a sculptor and to

Polyclitus as a maker of portraitstatues, and here we mean nothing by wisdom except excellence in art; but

(2) we think that some people are wise in general, not in some particular field or in any other limited respect,

Therefore wisdom must plainly be the most finished of the forms of knowledge. It follows that the wise man

must not only know what follows from the first principles, but must also possess truth about the first

principles. Therefore wisdom must be intuitive reason combined with scientific knowledgescientific

knowledge of the highest objects which has received as it were its proper completion.

Of the highest objects, we say; for it would be strange to think that the art of politics, or practical wisdom, is

the best knowledge, since man is not the best thing in the world. Now if what is healthy or good is different

for men and for fishes, but what is white or straight is always the same, any one would say that what is wise

is the same but what is practically wise is different; for it is to that which observes well the various matters

concerning itself that one ascribes practical wisdom, and it is to this that one will entrust such matters. This is

why we say that some even of the lower animals have practical wisdom, viz. those which are found to have a

power of foresight with regard to their own life. It is evident also that philosophic wisdom and the art of

politics cannot be the same; for if the state of mind concerned with a man's own interests is to be called

philosophic wisdom, there will be many philosophic wisdoms; there will not be one concerned with the good

of all animals (any more than there is one art of medicine for all existing things), but a different philosophic

But if the argument be that man is the best of the animals, this makes no difference; for there are other things

much more divine in their nature even than man, e.g., most conspicuously, the bodies of which the heavens

are framed. From what has been said it is plain, then, that philosophic wisdom is scientific knowledge,

combined with intuitive reason, of the things that are highest by nature. This is why we say Anaxagoras,

Thales, and men like them have philosophic but not practical wisdom, when we see them ignorant of what is

to their own advantage, and why we say that they know things that are remarkable, admirable, difficult, and

Practical wisdom on the other hand is concerned with things human and things about which it is possible to

deliberate; for we say this is above all the work of the man of practical wisdom, to deliberate well, but no one

deliberates about things invariable, nor about things which have not an end, and that a good that can be

brought about by action. The man who is without qualification good at deliberating is the man who is capable

of aiming in accordance with calculation at the best for man of things attainable by action. Nor is practical

wisdom concerned with universals onlyit must also recognize the particulars; for it is practical, and practice

is concerned with particulars. This is why some who do not know, and especially those who have experience,

are more practical than others who know; for if a man knew that light meats are digestible and wholesome,

but did not know which sorts of meat are light, he would not produce health, but the man who knows that

Now practical wisdom is concerned with action; therefore one should have both forms of it, or the latter in

preference to the former. But of practical as of philosophic wisdom there must be a controlling kind.

Political wisdom and practical wisdom are the same state of mind, but their essence is not the same. Of the

wisdom concerned with the city, the practical wisdom which plays a controlling part is legislative wisdom,

while that which is related to this as particulars to their universal is known by the general name 'political

wisdom'; this has to do with action and deliberation, for a decree is a thing to be carried out in the form of an

individual act. This is why the exponents of this art are alone said to 'take part in politics'; for these alone 'do

Practical wisdom also is identified especially with that form of it which is concerned with a man

himselfwith the individual; and this is known by the general name 'practical wisdom'; of the other kinds one

is called household management, another legislation, the third politics, and of the latter one part is called

deliberative and the other judicial. Now knowing what is good for oneself will be one kind of knowledge, but

it is very different from the other kinds; and the man who knows and concerns himself with his own interests

is thought to have practical wisdom, while politicians are thought to be busybodies; hence the word of

Those who think thus seek their own good, and consider that one ought to do so. From this opinion, then, has

come the view that such men have practical wisdom; yet perhaps one's own good cannot exist without

household management, nor without a form of government. Further, how one should order one's own affairs

What has been said is confirmed by the fact that while young men become geometricians and mathematicians

and wise in matters like these, it is thought that a young man of practical wisdom cannot be found. The cause

is that such wisdom is concerned not only with universals but with particulars, which become familiar from

experience, but a young man has no experience, for it is length of time that gives experience; indeed one

might ask this question too, why a boy may become a mathematician, but not a philosopher or a physicist. It

is because the objects of mathematics exist by abstraction, while the first principles of these other subjects

come from experience, and because young men have no conviction about the latter but merely use the proper

Further, error in deliberation may be either about the universal or about the particular; we may fall to know

either that all water that weighs heavy is bad, or that this particular water weighs heavy.

That practical wisdom is not scientific knowledge is evident; for it is, as has been said, concerned with the

ultimate particular fact, since the thing to be done is of this nature. It is opposed, then, to intuitive reason; for

intuitive reason is of the limiting premisses, for which no reason can be given, while practical wisdom is

concerned with the ultimate particular, which is the object not of scientific knowledge but of perceptionnot

the perception of qualities peculiar to one sense but a perception akin to that by which we perceive that the

particular figure before us is a triangle; for in that direction as well as in that of the major premiss there will

be a limit. But this is rather perception than practical wisdom, though it is another kind of perception than

There is a difference between inquiry and deliberation; for deliberation is inquiry into a particular kind of

thing. We must grasp the nature of excellence in deliberation as well whether it is a form of scientific

knowledge, or opinion, or skill in conjecture, or some other kind of thing. Scientific knowledge it is not; for

men do not inquire about the things they know about, but good deliberation is a kind of deliberation, and he

who deliberates inquires and calculates. Nor is it skill in conjecture; for this both involves no reasoning and is

something that is quick in its operation, while men deliberate a long time, and they say that one should carry

out quickly the conclusions of one's deliberation, but should deliberate slowly. Again, readiness of mind is

different from excellence in deliberation; it is a sort of skill in conjecture. Nor again is excellence in

deliberation opinion of any sort. But since the man who deliberates badly makes a mistake, while he who

deliberates well does so correctly, excellence in deliberation is clearly a kind of correctness, but neither of

knowledge nor of opinion; for there is no such thing as correctness of knowledge (since there is no such thing

as error of knowledge), and correctness of opinion is truth; and at the same time everything that is an object

of opinion is already determined. But again excellence in deliberation involves reasoning. The remaining

alternative, then, is that it is correctness of thinking; for this is not yet assertion, since, while even opinion is

not inquiry but has reached the stage of assertion, the man who is deliberating, whether he does so well or ill,

But excellence in deliberation is a certain correctness of deliberation; hence we must first inquire what

deliberation is and what it is about. And, there being more than one kind of correctness, plainly excellence in

deliberation is not any and every kind; for (1) the incontinent man and the bad man, if he is clever, will reach

as a result of his calculation what he sets before himself, so that he will have deliberated correctly, but he will

have got for himself a great evil. Now to have deliberated well is thought to be a good thing; for it is this kind

of correctness of deliberation that is excellence in deliberation, viz. that which tends to attain what is good.

But (2) it is possible to attain even good by a false syllogism, and to attain what one ought to do but not by

the right means, the middle term being false; so that this too is not yet excellence in deliberation this state in

virtue of which one attains what one ought but not by the right means. Again (3) it is possible to attain it by

long deliberation while another man attains it quickly. Therefore in the former case we have not yet got

excellence in deliberation, which is rightness with regard to the expedientrightness in respect both of the

end, the manner, and the time. (4) Further it is possible to have deliberated well either in the unqualified

sense or with reference to a particular end. Excellence in deliberation in the unqualified sense, then, is that

which succeeds with reference to what is the end in the unqualified sense, and excellence in deliberation in a

particular sense is that which succeeds relatively to a particular end. If, then, it is characteristic of men of

practical wisdom to have deliberated well, excellence in deliberation will be correctness with regard to what

Understanding, also, and goodness of understanding, in virtue of which men are said to be men of

understanding or of good understanding, are neither entirely the same as opinion or scientific knowledge (for

at that rate all men would have been men of understanding), nor are they one of the particular sciences, such

as medicine, the science of things connected with health, or geometry, the science of spatial magnitudes. For

understanding is neither about things that are always and are unchangeable, nor about any and every one of

the things that come into being, but about things which may become subjects of questioning and deliberation.

Hence it is about the same objects as practical wisdom; but understanding and practical wisdom are not the

same. For practical wisdom issues commands, since its end is what ought to be done or not to be done; but

understanding only judges. (Understanding is identical with goodness of understanding, men of

understanding with men of good understanding.) Now understanding is neither the having nor the acquiring

of practical wisdom; but as learning is called understanding when it means the exercise of the faculty of

knowledge, so 'understanding' is applicable to the exercise of the faculty of opinion for the purpose of judging

of what some one else says about matters with which practical wisdom is concernedand of judging soundly;

for 'well' and 'soundly' are the same thing. And from this has come the use of the name 'understanding' in

virtue of which men are said to be 'of good understanding', viz. from the application of the word to the

What is called judgement, in virtue of which men are said to 'be sympathetic judges' and to 'have judgement',

is the right discrimination of the equitable. This is shown by the fact that we say the equitable man is above

all others a man of sympathetic judgement, and identify equity with sympathetic judgement about certain

facts. And sympathetic judgement is judgement which discriminates what is equitable and does so correctly;

Now all the states we have considered converge, as might be expected, to the same point; for when we speak

of judgement and understanding and practical wisdom and intuitive reason we credit the same people with

possessing judgement and having reached years of reason and with having practical wisdom and

understanding. For all these faculties deal with ultimates, i.e. with particulars; and being a man of

understanding and of good or sympathetic judgement consists in being able judge about the things with which

practical wisdom is concerned; for the equities are common to all good men in relation to other men. Now all

things which have to be done are included among particulars or ultimates; for not only must the man of

practical wisdom know particular facts, but understanding and judgement are also concerned with things to

be done, and these are ultimates. And intuitive reason is concerned with the ultimates in both directions; for

both the first terms and the last are objects of intuitive reason and not of argument, and the intuitive reason

which is presupposed by demonstrations grasps the unchangeable and first terms, while the intuitive reason

involved in practical reasonings grasps the last and variable fact, i.e. the minor premiss. For these variable

facts are the startingpoints for the apprehension of the end, since the universals are reached from the

particulars; of these therefore we must have perception, and this perception is intuitive reason.

This is why these states are thought to be natural endowmentswhy, while no one is thought to be a

philosopher by nature, people are thought to have by nature judgement, understanding, and intuitive reason.

This is shown by the fact that we think our powers correspond to our time of life, and that a particular age

brings with it intuitive reason and judgement; this implies that nature is the cause. (Hence intuitive reason is

both beginning and end; for demonstrations are from these and about these.) Therefore we ought to attend to

the undemonstrated sayings and opinions of experienced and older people or of people of practical wisdom

not less than to demonstrations; for because experience has given them an eye they see aright.

We have stated, then, what practical and philosophic wisdom are, and with what each of them is concerned,

Difficulties might be raised as to the utility of these qualities of mind. For (1) philosophic wisdom will

contemplate none of the things that will make a man happy (for it is not concerned with any coming into

being), and though practical wisdom has this merit, for what purpose do we need it? Practical wisdom is the

quality of mind concerned with things just and noble and good for man, but these are the things which it is

the mark of a good man to do, and we are none the more able to act for knowing them if the virtues are states

of character, just as we are none the better able to act for knowing the things that are healthy and sound, in

the sense not of producing but of issuing from the state of health; for we are none the more able to act for

having the art of medicine or of gymnastics. But (2) if we are to say that a man should have practical wisdom

not for the sake of knowing moral truths but for the sake of becoming good, practical wisdom will be of no

use to those who are good; again it is of no use to those who have not virtue; for it will make no difference

whether they have practical wisdom themselves or obey others who have it, and it would be enough for us to

do what we do in the case of health; though we wish to become healthy, yet we do not learn the art of

medicine. (3) Besides this, it would be thought strange if practical wisdom, being inferior to philosophic

wisdom, is to be put in authority over it, as seems to be implied by the fact that the art which produces

These, then, are the questions we must discuss; so far we have only stated the difficulties.

(1) Now first let us say that in themselves these states must be worthy of choice because they are the virtues

of the two parts of the soul respectively, even if neither of them produce anything.

(2) Secondly, they do produce something, not as the art of medicine produces health, however, but as health

produces health; so does philosophic wisdom produce happiness; for, being a part of virtue entire, by being

(3) Again, the work of man is achieved only in accordance with practical wisdom as well as with moral

virtue; for virtue makes us aim at the right mark, and practical wisdom makes us take the right means. (Of the

fourth part of the soulthe nutritivethere is no such virtue; for there is nothing which it is in its power to do

(4) With regard to our being none the more able to do because of our practical wisdom what is noble and just,

let us begin a little further back, starting with the following principle. As we say that some people who do just

acts are not necessarily just, i.e. those who do the acts ordained by the laws either unwillingly or owing to

ignorance or for some other reason and not for the sake of the acts themselves (though, to be sure, they do

what they should and all the things that the good man ought), so is it, it seems, that in order to be good one

must be in a certain state when one does the several acts, i.e. one must do them as a result of choice and for

the sake of the acts themselves. Now virtue makes the choice right, but the question of the things which

should naturally be done to carry out our choice belongs not to virtue but to another faculty. We must devote

our attention to these matters and give a clearer statement about them. There is a faculty which is called

cleverness; and this is such as to be able to do the things that tend towards the mark we have set before

ourselves, and to hit it. Now if the mark be noble, the cleverness is laudable, but if the mark be bad, the

cleverness is mere smartness; hence we call even men of practical wisdom clever or smart. Practical wisdom

is not the faculty, but it does not exist without this faculty. And this eye of the soul acquires its formed state

not without the aid of virtue, as has been said and is plain; for the syllogisms which deal with acts to be done

are things which involve a startingpoint, viz. 'since the end, i.e. what is best, is of such and such a nature',

whatever it may be (let it for the sake of argument be what we please); and this is not evident except to the

good man; for wickedness perverts us and causes us to be deceived about the startingpoints of action.

Therefore it is evident that it is impossible to be practically wise without being good.

We must therefore consider virtue also once more; for virtue too is similarly related; as practical wisdom is to

clevernessnot the same, but like itso is natural virtue to virtue in the strict sense. For all men think that

each type of character belongs to its possessors in some sense by nature; for from the very moment of birth

we are just or fitted for selfcontrol or brave or have the other moral qualities; but yet we seek something else

as that which is good in the strict sensewe seek for the presence of such qualities in another way. For both

children and brutes have the natural dispositions to these qualities, but without reason these are evidently

hurtful. Only we seem to see this much, that, while one may be led astray by them, as a strong body which

moves without sight may stumble badly because of its lack of sight, still, if a man once acquires reason, that

makes a difference in action; and his state, while still like what it was, will then be virtue in the strict sense.

Therefore, as in the part of us which forms opinions there are two types, cleverness and practical wisdom, so

too in the moral part there are two types, natural virtue and virtue in the strict sense, and of these the latter

involves practical wisdom. This is why some say that all the virtues are forms of practical wisdom, and why

Socrates in one respect was on the right track while in another he went astray; in thinking that all the virtues

were forms of practical wisdom he was wrong, but in saying they implied practical wisdom he was right. This

is confirmed by the fact that even now all men, when they define virtue, after naming the state of character

and its objects add 'that (state) which is in accordance with the right rule'; now the right rule is that which is

in accordance with practical wisdom. All men, then, seem somehow to divine that this kind of state is virtue,

viz. that which is in accordance with practical wisdom. But we must go a little further. For it is not merely the

state in accordance with the right rule, but the state that implies the presence of the right rule, that is virtue;

and practical wisdom is a right rule about such matters. Socrates, then, thought the virtues were rules or

rational principles (for he thought they were, all of them, forms of scientific knowledge), while we think they

It is clear, then, from what has been said, that it is not possible to be good in the strict sense without practical

wisdom, nor practically wise without moral virtue. But in this way we may also refute the dialectical

argument whereby it might be contended that the virtues exist in separation from each other; the same man, it

might be said, is not best equipped by nature for all the virtues, so that he will have already acquired one

when he has not yet acquired another. This is possible in respect of the natural virtues, but not in respect of

those in respect of which a man is called without qualification good; for with the presence of the one quality,

practical wisdom, will be given all the virtues. And it is plain that, even if it were of no practical value, we

should have needed it because it is the virtue of the part of us in question; plain too that the choice will not be

right without practical wisdom any more than without virtue; for the one deter, mines the end and the other

But again it is not supreme over philosophic wisdom, i.e. over the superior part of us, any more than the art of

medicine is over health; for it does not use it but provides for its coming into being; it issues orders, then, for

its sake, but not to it. Further, to maintain its supremacy would be like saying that the art of politics rules the

LET us now make a fresh beginning and point out that of moral states to be avoided there are three

kindsvice, incontinence, brutishness. The contraries of two of these are evident,one we call virtue, the

other continence; to brutishness it would be most fitting to oppose superhuman virtue, a heroic and divine

kind of virtue, as Homer has represented Priam saying of Hector that he was very good,

Therefore if, as they say, men become gods by excess of virtue, of this kind must evidently be the state

opposed to the brutish state; for as a brute has no vice or virtue, so neither has a god; his state is higher than

Now, since it is rarely that a godlike man is foundto use the epithet of the Spartans, who when they admire

any one highly call him a 'godlike man'so too the brutish type is rarely found among men; it is found chiefly

among barbarians, but some brutish qualities are also produced by disease or deformity; and we also call by

this evil name those men who go beyond all ordinary standards by reason of vice. Of this kind of disposition,

however, we must later make some mention, while we have discussed vice before we must now discuss

incontinence and softness (or effeminacy), and continence and endurance; for we must treat each of the two

neither as identical with virtue or wickedness, nor as a different genus. We must, as in all other cases, set the

observed facts before us and, after first discussing the difficulties, go on to prove, if possible, the truth of all

the common opinions about these affections of the mind, or, failing this, of the greater number and the most

authoritative; for if we both refute the objections and leave the common opinions undisturbed, we shall have

Now (1) both continence and endurance are thought to be included among things good and praiseworthy, and

both incontinence and soft, ness among things bad and blameworthy; and the same man is thought to be

continent and ready to abide by the result of his calculations, or incontinent and ready to abandon them. And

(2) the incontinent man, knowing that what he does is bad, does it as a result of passion, while the continent

man, knowing that his appetites are bad, refuses on account of his rational principle to follow them (3) The

temperate man all men call continent and disposed to endurance, while the continent man some maintain to

be always temperate but others do not; and some call the selfindulgent man incontinent and the incontinent

man selfindulgent indiscriminately, while others distinguish them. (4) The man of practical wisdom, they

sometimes say, cannot be incontinent, while sometimes they say that some who are practically wise and

clever are incontinent. Again (5) men are said to be incontinent even with respect to anger, honour, and

Now we may ask (1) how a man who judges rightly can behave incontinently. That he should behave so

when he has knowledge, some say is impossible; for it would be strangeso Socrates thoughtif when

knowledge was in a man something else could master it and drag it about like a slave. For Socrates was

entirely opposed to the view in question, holding that there is no such thing as incontinence; no one, he said,

when he judges acts against what he judges bestpeople act so only by reason of ignorance. Now this view

plainly contradicts the observed facts, and we must inquire about what happens to such a man; if he acts by

reason of ignorance, what is the manner of his ignorance? For that the man who behaves incontinently does

not, before he gets into this state, think he ought to act so, is evident. But there are some who concede certain

of Socrates' contentions but not others; that nothing is stronger than knowledge they admit, but not that on

one acts contrary to what has seemed to him the better course, and therefore they say that the incontinent man

has not knowledge when he is mastered by his pleasures, but opinion. But if it is opinion and not knowledge,

if it is not a strong conviction that resists but a weak one, as in men who hesitate, we sympathize with their

failure to stand by such convictions against strong appetites; but we do not sympathize with wickedness, nor

with any of the other blameworthy states. Is it then practical wisdom whose resistance is mastered? That is

the strongest of all states. But this is absurd; the same man will be at once practically wise and incontinent,

but no one would say that it is the part of a practically wise man to do willingly the basest acts. Besides, it has

been shown before that the man of practical wisdom is one who will act (for he is a man concerned with the

(2) Further, if continence involves having strong and bad appetites, the temperate man will not be continent

nor the continent man temperate; for a temperate man will have neither excessive nor bad appetites. But the

continent man must; for if the appetites are good, the state of character that restrains us from following them

is bad, so that not all continence will be good; while if they are weak and not bad, there is nothing admirable

in resisting them, and if they are weak and bad, there is nothing great in resisting these either.

(3) Further, if continence makes a man ready to stand by any and every opinion, it is bad, i.e. if it makes him

stand even by a false opinion; and if incontinence makes a man apt to abandon any and every opinion, there

will be a good incontinence, of which Sophocles' Neoptolemus in the Philoctetes will be an instance; for he is

to be praised for not standing by what Odysseus persuaded him to do, because he is pained at telling a lie.

(4) Further, the sophistic argument presents a difficulty; the syllogism arising from men's wish to expose

paradoxical results arising from an opponent's view, in order that they may be admired when they succeed, is

one that puts us in a difficulty (for thought is bound fast when it will not rest because the conclusion does not

satisfy it, and cannot advance because it cannot refute the argument). There is an argument from which it

follows that folly coupled with incontinence is virtue; for a man does the opposite of what he judges, owing

to incontinence, but judges what is good to be evil and something that he should not do, and consequence he

(5) Further, he who on conviction does and pursues and chooses what is pleasant would be thought to be

better than one who does so as a result not of calculation but of incontinence; for he is easier to cure since he

may be persuaded to change his mind. But to the incontinent man may be applied the proverb 'when water

chokes, what is one to wash it down with?' If he had been persuaded of the rightness of what he does, he

would have desisted when he was persuaded to change his mind; but now he acts in spite of his being

(6) Further, if incontinence and continence are concerned with any and every kind of object, who is it that is

incontinent in the unqualified sense? No one has all the forms of incontinence, but we say some people are

Of some such kind are the difficulties that arise; some of these points must be refuted and the others left in

possession of the field; for the solution of the difficulty is the discovery of the truth. (1) We must consider

first, then, whether incontinent people act knowingly or not, and in what sense knowingly; then (2) with what

sorts of object the incontinent and the continent man may be said to be concerned (i.e. whether with any and

every pleasure and pain or with certain determinate kinds), and whether the continent man and the man of

endurance are the same or different; and similarly with regard to the other matters germane to this inquiry.

The startingpoint of our investigation is (a) the question whether the continent man and the incontinent are

differentiated by their objects or by their attitude, i.e. whether the incontinent man is incontinent simply by

being concerned with such and such objects, or, instead, by his attitude, or, instead of that, by both these

things; (b) the second question is whether incontinence and continence are concerned with any and every

object or not. The man who is incontinent in the unqualified sense is neither concerned with any and every

object, but with precisely those with which the selfindulgent man is concerned, nor is he characterized by

being simply related to these (for then his state would be the same as selfindulgence), but by being related to

them in a certain way. For the one is led on in accordance with his own choice, thinking that he ought always

to pursue the present pleasure; while the other does not think so, but yet pursues it.

(1) As for the suggestion that it is true opinion and not knowledge against which we act incontinently, that

makes no difference to the argument; for some people when in a state of opinion do not hesitate, but think

they know exactly. If, then, the notion is that owing to their weak conviction those who have opinion are

more likely to act against their judgement than those who know, we answer that there need be no difference

between knowledge and opinion in this respect; for some men are no less convinced of what they think than

others of what they know; as is shown by the of Heraclitus. But (a), since we use the word 'know' in two

senses (for both the man who has knowledge but is not using it and he who is using it are said to know), it

will make a difference whether, when a man does what he should not, he has the knowledge but is not

exercising it, or is exercising it; for the latter seems strange, but not the former.

(b) Further, since there are two kinds of premisses, there is nothing to prevent a man's having both premisses

and acting against his knowledge, provided that he is using only the universal premiss and not the particular;

for it is particular acts that have to be done. And there are also two kinds of universal term; one is predicable

of the agent, the other of the object; e.g. 'dry food is good for every man', and 'I am a man', or 'such and such

food is dry'; but whether 'this food is such and such', of this the incontinent man either has not or is not

exercising the knowledge. There will, then, be, firstly, an enormous difference between these manners of

knowing, so that to know in one way when we act incontinently would not seem anything strange, while to

And further (c) the possession of knowledge in another sense than those just named is something that happens

to men; for within the case of having knowledge but not using it we see a difference of state, admitting of the

possibility of having knowledge in a sense and yet not having it, as in the instance of a man asleep, mad, or

drunk. But now this is just the condition of men under the influence of passions; for outbursts of anger and

sexual appetites and some other such passions, it is evident, actually alter our bodily condition, and in some

men even produce fits of madness. It is plain, then, that incontinent people must be said to be in a similar

condition to men asleep, mad, or drunk. The fact that men use the language that flows from knowledge

proves nothing; for even men under the influence of these passions utter scientific proofs and verses of

Empedocles, and those who have just begun to learn a science can string together its phrases, but do not yet

know it; for it has to become part of themselves, and that takes time; so that we must suppose that the use of

language by men in an incontinent state means no more than its utterance by actors on the stage. (d) Again,

we may also view the cause as follows with reference to the facts of human nature. The one opinion is

universal, the other is concerned with the particular facts, and here we come to something within the sphere

of perception; when a single opinion results from the two, the soul must in one type of case affirm the

conclusion, while in the case of opinions concerned with production it must immediately act (e.g. if

'everything sweet ought to be tasted', and 'this is sweet', in the sense of being one of the particular sweet

things, the man who can act and is not prevented must at the same time actually act accordingly). When, then,

the universal opinion is present in us forbidding us to taste, and there is also the opinion that 'everything

sweet is pleasant', and that 'this is sweet' (now this is the opinion that is active), and when appetite happens to

be present in us, the one opinion bids us avoid the object, but appetite leads us towards it (for it can move

each of our bodily parts); so that it turns out that a man behaves incontinently under the influence (in a sense)

of a rule and an opinion, and of one not contrary in itself, but only incidentallyfor the appetite is contrary,

not the opinionto the right rule. It also follows that this is the reason why the lower animals are not

incontinent, viz. because they have no universal judgement but only imagination and memory of particulars.

The explanation of how the ignorance is dissolved and the incontinent man regains his knowledge, is the

same as in the case of the man drunk or asleep and is not peculiar to this condition; we must go to the

students of natural science for it. Now, the last premiss both being an opinion about a perceptible object, and

being what determines our actions this a man either has not when he is in the state of passion, or has it in the

sense in which having knowledge did not mean knowing but only talking, as a drunken man may utter the

verses of Empedocles. And because the last term is not universal nor equally an object of scientific

knowledge with the universal term, the position that Socrates sought to establish actually seems to result; for

it is not in the presence of what is thought to be knowledge proper that the affection of incontinence arises

(nor is it this that is 'dragged about' as a result of the state of passion), but in that of perceptual knowledge.

This must suffice as our answer to the question of action with and without knowledge, and how it is possible

(2) We must next discuss whether there is any one who is incontinent without qualification, or all men who

are incontinent are so in a particular sense, and if there is, with what sort of objects he is concerned. That both

continent persons and persons of endurance, and incontinent and soft persons, are concerned with pleasures

Now of the things that produce pleasure some are necessary, while others are worthy of choice in themselves

but admit of excess, the bodily causes of pleasure being necessary (by such I mean both those concerned with

food and those concerned with sexual intercourse, i.e. the bodily matters with which we defined

selfindulgence and temperance as being concerned), while the others are not necessary but worthy of choice

in themselves (e.g. victory, honour, wealth, and good and pleasant things of this sort). This being so, (a) those

who go to excess with reference to the latter, contrary to the right rule which is in themselves, are not called

incontinent simply, but incontinent with the qualification 'in respect of money, gain, honour, or anger',not

simply incontinent, on the ground that they are different from incontinent people and are called incontinent

by reason of a resemblance. (Compare the case of Anthropos (Man), who won a contest at the Olympic

games; in his case the general definition of man differed little from the definition peculiar to him, but yet it

was different.) This is shown by the fact that incontinence either without qualification or in respect of some

particular bodily pleasure is blamed not only as a fault but as a kind of vice, while none of the people who are

But (b) of the people who are incontinent with respect to bodily enjoyments, with which we say the temperate

and the selfindulgent man are concerned, he who pursues the excesses of things pleasantand shuns those of

things painful, of hunger and thirst and heat and cold and all the objects of touch and tastenot by choice but

contrary to his choice and his judgement, is called incontinent, not with the qualification 'in respect of this or

that', e.g. of anger, but just simply. This is confirmed by the fact that men are called 'soft' with regard to these

pleasures, but not with regard to any of the others. And for this reason we group together the incontinent and

the selfindulgent, the continent and the temperate manbut not any of these other typesbecause they are

concerned somehow with the same pleasures and pains; but though these are concerned with the same

objects, they are not similarly related to them, but some of them make a deliberate choice while the others do

This is why we should describe as selfindulgent rather the man who without appetite or with but a slight

appetite pursues the excesses of pleasure and avoids moderate pains, than the man who does so because of his

strong appetites; for what would the former do, if he had in addition a vigorous appetite, and a violent pain at

Now of appetites and pleasures some belong to the class of things generically noble and goodfor some

pleasant things are by nature worthy of choice, while others are contrary to these, and others are intermediate,

to adopt our previous distinctione.g. wealth, gain, victory, honour. And with reference to all objects whether

of this or of the intermediate kind men are not blamed for being affected by them, for desiring and loving

them, but for doing so in a certain way, i.e. for going to excess. (This is why all those who contrary to the rule

either are mastered by or pursue one of the objects which are naturally noble and good, e.g. those who busy

themselves more than they ought about honour or about children and parents, (are not wicked); for these too

are good, and those who busy themselves about them are praised; but yet there is an excess even in themif

like Niobe one were to fight even against the gods, or were to be as much devoted to one's father as Satyrus

nicknamed 'the filial', who was thought to be very silly on this point.) There is no wickedness, then, with

regard to these objects, for the reason named, viz. because each of them is by nature a thing worthy of choice

for its own sake; yet excesses in respect of them are bad and to be avoided. Similarly there is no incontinence

with regard to them; for incontinence is not only to be avoided but is also a thing worthy of blame; but owing

to a similarity in the state of feeling people apply the name incontinence, adding in each case what it is in

respect of, as we may describe as a bad doctor or a bad actor one whom we should not call bad, simply. As,

then, in this case we do not apply the term without qualification because each of these conditions is no

shadness but only analogous to it, so it is clear that in the other case also that alone must be taken to be

incontinence and continence which is concerned with the same objects as temperance and selfindulgence,

but we apply the term to anger by virtue of a resemblance; and this is why we say with a qualification

'incontinent in respect of anger' as we say 'incontinent in respect of honour, or of gain'.

(1) Some things are pleasant by nature, and of these (a) some are so without qualification, and (b) others are

so with reference to particular classes either of animals or of men; while (2) others are not pleasant by nature,

but (a) some of them become so by reason of injuries to the system, and (b) others by reason of acquired

habits, and (c) others by reason of originally bad natures. This being so, it is possible with regard to each of

the latter kinds to discover similar states of character to those recognized with regard to the former; I mean

(A) the brutish states, as in the case of the female who, they say, rips open pregnant women and devours the

infants, or of the things in which some of the tribes about the Black Sea that have gone savage are said to

delightin raw meat or in human flesh, or in lending their children to one another to feast uponor of the

These states are brutish, but (B) others arise as a result of disease (or, in some cases, of madness, as with the

man who sacrificed and ate his mother, or with the slave who ate the liver of his fellow), and others are

morbid states (C) resulting from custom, e.g. the habit of plucking out the hair or of gnawing the nails, or

even coals or earth, and in addition to these paederasty; for these arise in some by nature and in others, as in

Now those in whom nature is the cause of such a state no one would call incontinent, any more than one

would apply the epithet to women because of the passive part they play in copulation; nor would one apply it

to those who are in a morbid condition as a result of habit. To have these various types of habit is beyond the

limits of vice, as brutishness is too; for a man who has them to master or be mastered by them is not simple

(continence or) incontinence but that which is so by analogy, as the man who is in this condition in respect of

fits of anger is to be called incontinent in respect of that feeling but not incontinent simply. For every

excessive state whether of folly, of cowardice, of selfindulgence, or of bad temper, is either brutish or

morbid; the man who is by nature apt to fear everything, even the squeak of a mouse, is cowardly with a

brutish cowardice, while the man who feared a weasel did so in consequence of disease; and of foolish people

those who by nature are thoughtless and live by their senses alone are brutish, like some races of the distant

barbarians, while those who are so as a result of disease (e.g. of epilepsy) or of madness are morbid. Of these

characteristics it is possible to have some only at times, and not to be mastered by them. e.g. Phalaris may

have restrained a desire to eat the flesh of a child or an appetite for unnatural sexual pleasure; but it is also

possible to be mastered, not merely to have the feelings. Thus, as the wickedness which is on the human level

is called wickedness simply, while that which is not is called wickedness not simply but with the qualification

'brutish' or 'morbid', in the same way it is plain that some incontinence is brutish and some morbid, while

That incontinence and continence, then, are concerned only with the same objects as selfindulgence and

temperance and that what is concerned with other objects is a type distinct from incontinence, and called

That incontinence in respect of anger is less disgraceful than that in respect of the appetites is what we will

now proceed to see. (1) Anger seems to listen to argument to some extent, but to mishear it, as do hasty

servants who run out before they have heard the whole of what one says, and then muddle the order, or as

dogs bark if there is but a knock at the door, before looking to see if it is a friend; so anger by reason of the

warmth and hastiness of its nature, though it hears, does not hear an order, and springs to take revenge. For

argument or imagination informs us that we have been insulted or slighted, and anger, reasoning as it were

that anything like this must be fought against, boils up straightway; while appetite, if argument or perception

merely says that an object is pleasant, springs to the enjoyment of it. Therefore anger obeys the argument in a

sense, but appetite does not. It is therefore more disgraceful; for the man who is incontinent in respect of

anger is in a sense conquered by argument, while the other is conquered by appetite and not by argument.

(2) Further, we pardon people more easily for following natural desires, since we pardon them more easily for

following such appetites as are common to all men, and in so far as they are common; now anger and bad

temper are more natural than the appetites for excess, i.e. for unnecessary objects. Take for instance the man

who defended himself on the charge of striking his father by saying 'yes, but he struck his father, and he

struck his, and' (pointing to his child) 'this boy will strike me when he is a man; it runs in the family'; or the

man who when he was being dragged along by his son bade him stop at the doorway, since he himself had

(2) Further, those who are more given to plotting against others are more criminal. Now a passionate man is

not given to plotting, nor is anger itselfit is open; but the nature of appetite is illustrated by what the poets

call Aphrodite, 'guileweaving daughter of Cyprus', and by Homer's words about her 'embroidered girdle':

Therefore if this form of incontinence is more criminal and disgraceful than that in respect of anger, it is both

(4) Further, no one commits wanton outrage with a feeling of pain, but every one who acts in anger acts with

pain, while the man who commits outrage acts with pleasure. If, then, those acts at which it is most just to be

angry are more criminal than others, the incontinence which is due to appetite is the more criminal; for there

Plainly, then, the incontinence concerned with appetite is more disgraceful than that concerned with anger,

and continence and incontinence are concerned with bodily appetites and pleasures; but we must grasp the

differences among the latter themselves. For, as has been said at the beginning, some are human and natural

both in kind and in magnitude, others are brutish, and others are due to organic injuries and diseases. Only

with the first of these are temperance and selfindulgence concerned; this is why we call the lower animals

neither temperate nor selfindulgent except by a metaphor, and only if some one race of animals exceeds

another as a whole in wantonness, destructiveness, and omnivorous greed; these have no power of choice or

calculation, but they are departures from the natural norm, as, among men, madmen are. Now brutishness is a

less evil than vice, though more alarming; for it is not that the better part has been perverted, as in man,they

have no better part. Thus it is like comparing a lifeless thing with a living in respect of badness; for the

badness of that which has no originative source of movement is always less hurtful, and reason is an

originative source. Thus it is like comparing injustice in the abstract with an unjust man. Each is in some

With regard to the pleasures and pains and appetites and aversions arising through touch and taste, to which

both selfindulgence and temperance were formerly narrowed down, it possible to be in such a state as to be

defeated even by those of them which most people master, or to master even those by which most people are

defeated; among these possibilities, those relating to pleasures are incontinence and continence, those relating

to pains softness and endurance. The state of most people is intermediate, even if they lean more towards the

Now, since some pleasures are necessary while others are not, and are necessary up to a point while the

excesses of them are not, nor the deficiencies, and this is equally true of appetites and pains, the man who

pursues the excesses of things pleasant, or pursues to excess necessary objects, and does so by choice, for

their own sake and not at all for the sake of any result distinct from them, is selfindulgent; for such a man is

of necessity unlikely to repent, and therefore incurable, since a man who cannot repent cannot be cured. The

man who is deficient in his pursuit of them is the opposite of selfindulgent; the man who is intermediate is

temperate. Similarly, there is the man who avoids bodily pains not because he is defeated by them but by

choice. (Of those who do not choose such acts, one kind of man is led to them as a result of the pleasure

involved, another because he avoids the pain arising from the appetite, so that these types differ from one

another. Now any one would think worse of a man with no appetite or with weak appetite were he to do

something disgraceful, than if he did it under the influence of powerful appetite, and worse of him if he struck

a blow not in anger than if he did it in anger; for what would he have done if he had been strongly affected?

This is why the selfindulgent man is worse than the incontinent.) of the states named, then, the latter is

rather a kind of softness; the former is selfindulgence. While to the incontinent man is opposed the

continent, to the soft is opposed the man of endurance; for endurance consists in resisting, while continence

consists in conquering, and resisting and conquering are different, as not being beaten is different from

winning; this is why continence is also more worthy of choice than endurance. Now the man who is defective

in respect of resistance to the things which most men both resist and resist successfully is soft and effeminate;

for effeminacy too is a kind of softness; such a man trails his cloak to avoid the pain of lifting it, and plays

the invalid without thinking himself wretched, though the man he imitates is a wretched man.

The case is similar with regard to continence and incontinence. For if a man is defeated by violent and

excessive pleasures or pains, there is nothing wonderful in that; indeed we are ready to pardon him if he has

resisted, as Theodectes' Philoctetes does when bitten by the snake, or Carcinus' Cercyon in the Alope, and as

people who try to restrain their laughter burst out into a guffaw, as happened to Xenophantus. But it is

surprising if a man is defeated by and cannot resist pleasures or pains which most men can hold out against,

when this is not due to heredity or disease, like the softness that is hereditary with the kings of the Scythians,

The lover of amusement, too, is thought to be selfindulgent, but is really soft. For amusement is a

relaxation, since it is a rest from work; and the lover of amusement is one of the people who go to excess in

Of incontinence one kind is impetuosity, another weakness. For some men after deliberating fail, owing to

their emotion, to stand by the conclusions of their deliberation, others because they have not deliberated are

led by their emotion; since some men (just as people who first tickle others are not tickled themselves), if

they have first perceived and seen what is coming and have first roused themselves and their calculative

faculty, are not defeated by their emotion, whether it be pleasant or painful. It is keen and excitable people

that suffer especially from the impetuous form of incontinence; for the former by reason of their quickness

and the latter by reason of the violence of their passions do not await the argument, because they are apt to

The selfindulgent man, as was said, is not apt to repent; for he stands by his choice; but incontinent man is

likely to repent. This is why the position is not as it was expressed in the formulation of the problem, but the

selfindulgent man is incurable and the incontinent man curable; for wickedness is like a disease such as

dropsy or consumption, while incontinence is like epilepsy; the former is a permanent, the latter an

intermittent badness. And generally incontinence and vice are different in kind; vice is unconscious of itself,

incontinence is not (of incontinent men themselves, those who become temporarily beside themselves are

better than those who have the rational principle but do not abide by it, since the latter are defeated by a

weaker passion, and do not act without previous deliberation like the others); for the incontinent man is like

the people who get drunk quickly and on little wine, i.e. on less than most people.

Evidently, then, incontinence is not vice (though perhaps it is so in a qualified sense); for incontinence is

contrary to choice while vice is in accordance with choice; not but what they are similar in respect of the

actions they lead to; as in the saying of Demodocus about the Milesians, 'the Milesians are not without sense,

but they do the things that senseless people do', so too incontinent people are not criminal, but they will do

Now, since the incontinent man is apt to pursue, not on conviction, bodily pleasures that are excessive and

contrary to the right rule, while the selfindulgent man is convinced because he is the sort of man to pursue

them, it is on the contrary the former that is easily persuaded to change his mind, while the latter is not. For

virtue and vice respectively preserve and destroy the first principle, and in actions the final cause is the first

principle, as the hypotheses are in mathematics; neither in that case is it argument that teaches the first

principles, nor is it so herevirtue either natural or produced by habituation is what teaches right opinion

about the first principle. Such a man as this, then, is temperate; his contrary is the selfindulgent.

But there is a sort of man who is carried away as a result of passion and contrary to the right rulea man

whom passion masters so that he does not act according to the right rule, but does not master to the extent of

making him ready to believe that he ought to pursue such pleasures without reserve; this is the incontinent

man, who is better than the selfindulgent man, and not bad without qualification; for the best thing in him,

the first principle, is preserved. And contrary to him is another kind of man, he who abides by his convictions

and is not carried away, at least as a result of passion. It is evident from these considerations that the latter is

Is the man continent who abides by any and every rule and any and every choice, or the man who abides by

the right choice, and is he incontinent who abandons any and every choice and any and every rule, or he who

abandons the rule that is not false and the choice that is right; this is how we put it before in our statement of

the problem. Or is it incidentally any and every choice but per se the true rule and the right choice by which

the one abides and the other does not? If any one chooses or pursues this for the sake of that, per se he

pursues and chooses the latter, but incidentally the former. But when we speak without qualification we mean

what is per se. Therefore in a sense the one abides by, and the other abandons, any and every opinion; but

There are some who are apt to abide by their opinion, who are called strongheaded, viz. those who are hard

to persuade in the first instance and are not easily persuaded to change; these have in them something like the

continent man, as the prodigal is in a way like the liberal man and the rash man like the confident man; but

they are different in many respects. For it is to passion and appetite that the one will not yield, since on

occasion the continent man will be easy to persuade; but it is to argument that the others refuse to yield, for

they do form appetites and many of them are led by their pleasures. Now the people who are strongheaded

are the opinionated, the ignorant, and the boorishthe opinionated being influenced by pleasure and pain; for

they delight in the victory they gain if they are not persuaded to change, and are pained if their decisions

become null and void as decrees sometimes do; so that they are liker the incontinent than the continent man.

But there are some who fail to abide by their resolutions, not as a result of incontinence, e.g. Neoptolemus in

Sophocles' Philoctetes; yet it was for the sake of pleasure that he did not stand fastbut a noble pleasure; for

telling the truth was noble to him, but he had been persuaded by Odysseus to tell the lie. For not every one

who does anything for the sake of pleasure is either selfindulgent or bad or incontinent, but he who does it

Since there is also a sort of man who takes less delight than he should in bodily things, and does not abide by

the rule, he who is intermediate between him and the incontinent man is the continent man; for the

incontinent man fails to abide by the rule because he delights too much in them, and this man because he

delights in them too little; while the continent man abides by the rule and does not change on either account.

Now if continence is good, both the contrary states must be bad, as they actually appear to be; but because the

other extreme is seen in few people and seldom, as temperance is thought to be contrary only to

Since many names are applied analogically, it is by analogy that we have come to speak of the 'continence'

the temperate man; for both the continent man and the temperate man are such as to do nothing contrary to

the rule for the sake of the bodily pleasures, but the former has and the latter has not bad appetites, and the

latter is such as not to feel pleasure contrary to the rule, while the former is such as to feel pleasure but not to

be led by it. And the incontinent and the selfindulgent man are also like another; they are different, but both

pursue bodily pleasures the latter, however, also thinking that he ought to do so, while the former does not

Nor can the same man have practical wisdom and be incontinent; for it has been shown' that a man is at the

same time practically wise, and good in respect of character. Further, a man has practical wisdom not by

knowing only but by being able to act; but the incontinent man is unable to actthere is, however, nothing to

prevent a clever man from being incontinent; this is why it is sometimes actually thought that some people

have practical wisdom but are incontinent, viz. because cleverness and practical wisdom differ in the way we

have described in our first discussions, and are near together in respect of their reasoning, but differ in respect

of their purposenor yet is the incontinent man like the man who knows and is contemplating a truth, but like

the man who is asleep or drunk. And he acts willingly (for he acts in a sense with knowledge both of what he

does and of the end to which he does it), but is not wicked, since his purpose is good; so that he is

halfwicked. And he is not a criminal; for he does not act of malice aforethought; of the two types of

incontinent man the one does not abide by the conclusions of his deliberation, while the excitable man does

not deliberate at all. And thus the incontinent man like a city which passes all the right decrees and has good

but the wicked man is like a city that uses its laws, but has wicked laws to use.

Now incontinence and continence are concerned with that which is in excess of the state characteristic of

most men; for the continent man abides by his resolutions more and the incontinent man less than most men

Of the forms of incontinence, that of excitable people is more curable than that of those who deliberate but do

not abide by their decisions, and those who are incontinent through habituation are more curable than those in

whom incontinence is innate; for it is easier to change a habit than to change one's nature; even habit is hard

We have now stated what continence, incontinence, endurance, and softness are, and how these states are

The study of pleasure and pain belongs to the province of the political philosopher; for he is the architect of

the end, with a view to which we call one thing bad and another good without qualification. Further, it is one

of our necessary tasks to consider them; for not only did we lay it down that moral virtue and vice are

concerned with pains and pleasures, but most people say that happiness involves pleasure; this is why the

Now (1) some people think that no pleasure is a good, either in itself or incidentally, since the good and

pleasure are not the same; (2) others think that some pleasures are good but that most are bad. (3) Again there

is a third view, that even if all pleasures are good, yet the best thing in the world cannot be pleasure. (1) The

reasons given for the view that pleasure is not a good at all are (a) that every pleasure is a perceptible process

to a natural state, and that no process is of the same kind as its end, e.g. no process of building of the same

kind as a house. (b) A temperate man avoids pleasures. (c) A man of practical wisdom pursues what is free

from pain, not what is pleasant. (d) The pleasures are a hindrance to thought, and the more so the more one

delights in them, e.g. in sexual pleasure; for no one could think of anything while absorbed in this. (e) There

is no art of pleasure; but every good is the product of some art. (f) Children and the brutes pursue pleasures.

(2) The reasons for the view that not all pleasures are good are that (a) there are pleasures that are actually

base and objects of reproach, and (b) there are harmful pleasures; for some pleasant things are unhealthy. (3)

The reason for the view that the best thing in the world is not pleasure is that pleasure is not an end but a

These are pretty much the things that are said. That it does not follow from these grounds that pleasure is not

a good, or even the chief good, is plain from the following considerations. (A) (a) First, since that which is

good may be so in either of two senses (one thing good simply and another good for a particular person),

natural constitutions and states of being, and therefore also the corresponding movements and processes, will

be correspondingly divisible. Of those which are thought to be bad some will be bad if taken without

qualification but not bad for a particular person, but worthy of his choice, and some will not be worthy of

choice even for a particular person, but only at a particular time and for a short period, though not without

qualification; while others are not even pleasures, but seem to be so, viz. all those which involve pain and

(b) Further, one kind of good being activity and another being state, the processes that restore us to our

natural state are only incidentally pleasant; for that matter the activity at work in the appetites for them is the

activity of so much of our state and nature as has remained unimpaired; for there are actually pleasures that

involve no pain or appetite (e.g. those of contemplation), the nature in such a case not being defective at all.

That the others are incidental is indicated by the fact that men do not enjoy the same pleasant objects when

their nature is in its settled state as they do when it is being replenished, but in the former case they enjoy the

things that are pleasant without qualification, in the latter the contraries of these as well; for then they enjoy

even sharp and bitter things, none of which is pleasant either by nature or without qualification. The states

they produce, therefore, are not pleasures naturally or without qualification; for as pleasant things differ, so

better than the process; for leasures are not processes nor do they all involve processthey are activities and

ends; nor do they arise when we are becoming something, but when we are exercising some faculty; and not

all pleasures have an end different from themselves, but only the pleasures of persons who are being led to

the perfecting of their nature. This is why it is not right to say that pleasure is perceptible process, but it

should rather be called activity of the natural state, and instead of 'perceptible' 'unimpeded'. It is thought by

some people to be process just because they think it is in the strict sense good; for they think that activity is

(B) The view that pleasures are bad because some pleasant things are unhealthy is like saying that healthy

things are bad because some healthy things are bad for moneymaking; both are bad in the respect

mentioned, but they are not bad for that reasonindeed, thinking itself is sometimes injurious to health.

Neither practical wisdom nor any state of being is impeded by the pleasure arising from it; it is foreign

pleasures that impede, for the pleasures arising from thinking and learning will make us think and learn all

activity either, but only of the corresponding faculty; though for that matter the arts of the perfumer and the

(D) The arguments based on the grounds that the temperate man avoids pleasure and that the man of practical

wisdom pursues the painless life, and that children and the brutes pursue pleasure, are all refuted by the same

consideration. We have pointed out in what sense pleasures are good without qualification and in what sense

some are not good; now both the brutes and children pursue pleasures of the latter kind (and the man of

practical wisdom pursues tranquil freedom from that kind), viz. those which imply appetite and pain, i.e. the

bodily pleasures (for it is these that are of this nature) and the excesses of them, in respect of which the

selfindulgent man is selfindulent. This is why the temperate man avoids these pleasures; for even he has

But further (E) it is agreed that pain is bad and to be avoided; for some pain is without qualification bad, and

other pain is bad because it is in some respect an impediment to us. Now the contrary of that which is to be

avoided, qua something to be avoided and bad, is good. Pleasure, then, is necessarily a good. For the answer

of Speusippus, that pleasure is contrary both to pain and to good, as the greater is contrary both to the less and

to the equal, is not successful; since he would not say that pleasure is essentially just a species of evil.

And (F) if certain pleasures are bad, that does not prevent the chief good from being some pleasure, just as

the chief good may be some form of knowledge though certain kinds of knowledge are bad. Perhaps it is even

necessary, if each disposition has unimpeded activities, that, whether the activity (if unimpeded) of all our

dispositions or that of some one of them is happiness, this should be the thing most worthy of our choice; and

this activity is pleasure. Thus the chief good would be some pleasure, though most pleasures might perhaps

be bad without qualification. And for this reason all men think that the happy life is pleasant and weave

pleasure into their ideal of happinessand reasonably too; for no activity is perfect when it is impeded, and

happiness is a perfect thing; this is why the happy man needs the goods of the body and external goods, i.e.

those of fortune, viz. in order that he may not be impeded in these ways. Those who say that the victim on the

rack or the man who falls into great misfortunes is happy if he is good, are, whether they mean to or not,

talking nonsense. Now because we need fortune as well as other things, some people think good fortune the

same thing as happiness; but it is not that, for even good fortune itself when in excess is an impediment, and

perhaps should then be no longer called good fortune; for its limit is fixed by reference to happiness.

And indeed the fact that all things, both brutes and men, pursue pleasure is an indication of its being

But since no one nature or state either is or is thought the best for all, neither do all pursue the same pleasure;

yet all pursue pleasure. And perhaps they actually pursue not the pleasure they think they pursue nor that

which they would say they pursue, but the same pleasure; for all things have by nature something divine in

them. But the bodily pleasures have appropriated the name both because we oftenest steer our course for

them and because all men share in them; thus because they alone are familiar, men think there are no others.

It is evident also that if pleasure, i.e. the activity of our faculties, is not a good, it will not be the case that the

happy man lives a pleasant life; for to what end should he need pleasure, if it is not a good but the happy man

may even live a painful life? For pain is neither an evil nor a good, if pleasure is not; why then should he

avoid it? Therefore, too, the life of the good man will not be pleasanter than that of any one else, if his

(G) With regard to the bodily pleasures, those who say that some pleasures are very much to be chosen, viz.

the noble pleasures, but not the bodily pleasures, i.e. those with which the selfindulgent man is concerned,

must consider why, then, the contrary pains are bad. For the contrary of bad is good. Are the necessary

pleasures good in the sense in which even that which is not bad is good? Or are they good up to a point? Is it

that where you have states and processes of which there cannot be too much, there cannot be too much of the

corresponding pleasure, and that where there can be too much of the one there can be too much of the other

also? Now there can be too much of bodily goods, and the bad man is bad by virtue of pursuing the excess,

not by virtue of pursuing the necessary pleasures (for all men enjoy in some way or other both dainty foods

and wines and sexual intercourse, but not all men do so as they ought). The contrary is the case with pain; for

he does not avoid the excess of it, he avoids it altogether; and this is peculiar to him, for the alternative to

Since we should state not only the truth, but also the cause of errorfor this contributes towards producing

conviction, since when a reasonable explanation is given of why the false view appears true, this tends to

produce belief in the true viewtherefore we must state why the bodily pleasures appear the more worthy of

choice. (a) Firstly, then, it is because they expel pain; owing to the excesses of pain that men experience, they

pursue excessive and in general bodily pleasure as being a cure for the pain. Now curative agencies produce

intense feelingwhich is the reason why they are pursuedbecause they show up against the contrary pain.

(Indeed pleasure is thought not to be good for these two reasons, as has been said, viz. that (a) some of them

are activities belonging to a bad natureeither congenital, as in the case of a brute, or due to habit, i.e. those

of bad men; while (b) others are meant to cure a defective nature, and it is better to be in a healthy state than

to be getting into it, but these arise during the process of being made perfect and are therefore only

incidentally good.) (b) Further, they are pursued because of their violence by those who cannot enjoy other

pleasures. (At all events they go out of their way to manufacture thirsts somehow for themselves. When these

are harmless, the practice is irreproachable; when they are hurtful, it is bad.) For they have nothing else to

enjoy, and, besides, a neutral state is painful to many people because of their nature. For the animal nature is

always in travail, as the students of natural science also testify, saying that sight and hearing are painful; but

we have become used to this, as they maintain. Similarly, while, in youth, people are, owing to the growth

that is going on, in a situation like that of drunken men, and youth is pleasant, on the other hand people of

excitable nature always need relief; for even their body is ever in torment owing to its special composition,

and they are always under the influence of violent desire; but pain is driven out both by the contrary pleasure,

and by any chance pleasure if it be strong; and for these reasons they become selfindulgent and bad. But the

pleasures that do not involve pains do not admit of excess; and these are among the things pleasant by nature

and not incidentally. By things pleasant incidentally I mean those that act as cures (for because as a result

people are cured, through some action of the part that remains healthy, for this reason the process is thought

pleasant); by things naturally pleasant I mean those that stimulate the action of the healthy nature.

There is no one thing that is always pleasant, because our nature is not simple but there is another element in

us as well, inasmuch as we are perishable creatures, so that if the one element does something, this is

unnatural to the other nature, and when the two elements are evenly balanced, what is done seems neither

painful nor pleasant; for if the nature of anything were simple, the same action would always be most

pleasant to it. This is why God always enjoys a single and simple pleasure; for there is not only an activity of

movement but an activity of immobility, and pleasure is found more in rest than in movement. But 'change in

all things is sweet', as the poet says, because of some vice; for as it is the vicious man that is changeable, so

We have now discussed continence and incontinence, and pleasure and pain, both what each is and in what

AFTER what we have said, a discussion of friendship would naturally follow, since it is a virtue or implies

virtue, and is besides most necessary with a view to living. For without friends no one would choose to live,

though he had all other goods; even rich men and those in possession of office and of dominating power are

thought to need friends most of all; for what is the use of such prosperity without the opportunity of

beneficence, which is exercised chiefly and in its most laudable form towards friends? Or how can prosperity

be guarded and preserved without friends? The greater it is, the more exposed is it to risk. And in poverty and

in other misfortunes men think friends are the only refuge. It helps the young, too, to keep from error; it aids

older people by ministering to their needs and supplementing the activities that are failing from weakness;

those in the prime of life it stimulates to noble actions'two going together'for with friends men are more

able both to think and to act. Again, parent seems by nature to feel it for offspring and offspring for parent,

not only among men but among birds and among most animals; it is felt mutually by members of the same

race, and especially by men, whence we praise lovers of their fellowmen. We may even in our travels how

near and dear every man is to every other. Friendship seems too to hold states together, and lawgivers to care

more for it than for justice; for unanimity seems to be something like friendship, and this they aim at most of

all, and expel faction as their worst enemy; and when men are friends they have no need of justice, while

when they are just they need friendship as well, and the truest form of justice is thought to be a friendly

But it is not only necessary but also noble; for we praise those who love their friends, and it is thought to be a

fine thing to have many friends; and again we think it is the same people that are good men and are friends.

Not a few things about friendship are matters of debate. Some define it as a kind of likeness and say like

people are friends, whence come the sayings 'like to like', 'birds of a feather flock together', and so on; others

on the contrary say 'two of a trade never agree'. On this very question they inquire for deeper and more

physical causes, Euripides saying that 'parched earth loves the rain, and stately heaven when filled with rain

loves to fall to earth', and Heraclitus that 'it is what opposes that helps' and 'from different tones comes the

fairest tune' and 'all things are produced through strife'; while Empedocles, as well as others, expresses the

opposite view that like aims at like. The physical problems we may leave alone (for they do not belong to the

present inquiry); let us examine those which are human and involve character and feeling, e.g. whether

friendship can arise between any two people or people cannot be friends if they are wicked, and whether there

is one species of friendship or more than one. Those who think there is only one because it admits of degrees

have relied on an inadequate indication; for even things different in species admit of degree. We have

The kinds of friendship may perhaps be cleared up if we first come to know the object of love. For not

everything seems to be loved but only the lovable, and this is good, pleasant, or useful; but it would seem to

be that by which some good or pleasure is produced that is useful, so that it is the good and the useful that are

lovable as ends. Do men love, then, the good, or what is good for them? These sometimes clash. So too with

regard to the pleasant. Now it is thought that each loves what is good for himself, and that the good is without

qualification lovable, and what is good for each man is lovable for him; but each man loves not what is good

for him but what seems good. This however will make no difference; we shall just have to say that this is 'that

which seems lovable'. Now there are three grounds on which people love; of the love of lifeless objects we do

not use the word 'friendship'; for it is not mutual love, nor is there a wishing of good to the other (for it would

surely be ridiculous to wish wine well; if one wishes anything for it, it is that it may keep, so that one may

have it oneself); but to a friend we say we ought to wish what is good for his sake. But to those who thus

wish good we ascribe only goodwill, if the wish is not reciprocated; goodwill when it is reciprocal being

friendship. Or must we add 'when it is recognized'? For many people have goodwill to those whom they have

not seen but judge to be good or useful; and one of these might return this feeling. These people seem to bear

goodwill to each other; but how could one call them friends when they do not know their mutual feelings? To

be friends, then, the must be mutually recognized as bearing goodwill and wishing well to each other for one

Now these reasons differ from each other in kind; so, therefore, do the corresponding forms of love and

friendship. There are therefore three kinds of friendship, equal in number to the things that are lovable; for

with respect to each there is a mutual and recognized love, and those who love each other wish well to each

other in that respect in which they love one another. Now those who love each other for their utility do not

love each other for themselves but in virtue of some good which they get from each other. So too with those

who love for the sake of pleasure; it is not for their character that men love readywitted people, but because

they find them pleasant. Therefore those who love for the sake of utility love for the sake of what is good for

themselves, and those who love for the sake of pleasure do so for the sake of what is pleasant to themselves,

and not in so far as the other is the person loved but in so far as he is useful or pleasant. And thus these

friendships are only incidental; for it is not as being the man he is that the loved person is loved, but as

providing some good or pleasure. Such friendships, then, are easily dissolved, if the parties do not remain like

themselves; for if the one party is no longer pleasant or useful the other ceases to love him.

Now the useful is not permanent but is always changing. Thus when the motive of the friendship is done

away, the friendship is dissolved, inasmuch as it existed only for the ends in question. This kind of friendship

seems to exist chiefly between old people (for at that age people pursue not the pleasant but the useful) and,

of those who are in their prime or young, between those who pursue utility. And such people do not live

much with each other either; for sometimes they do not even find each other pleasant; therefore they do not

need such companionship unless they are useful to each other; for they are pleasant to each other only in so

far as they rouse in each other hopes of something good to come. Among such friendships people also class

the friendship of a host and guest. On the other hand the friendship of young people seems to aim at pleasure;

for they live under the guidance of emotion, and pursue above all what is pleasant to themselves and what is

immediately before them; but with increasing age their pleasures become different. This is why they quickly

become friends and quickly cease to be so; their friendship changes with the object that is found pleasant, and

such pleasure alters quickly. Young people are amorous too; for the greater part of the friendship of love

depends on emotion and aims at pleasure; this is why they fall in love and quickly fall out of love, changing

often within a single day. But these people do wish to spend their days and lives together; for it is thus that

Perfect friendship is the friendship of men who are good, and alike in virtue; for these wish well alike to each

other qua good, and they are good themselves. Now those who wish well to their friends for their sake are

most truly friends; for they do this by reason of own nature and not incidentally; therefore their friendship

lasts as long as they are goodand goodness is an enduring thing. And each is good without qualification and

to his friend, for the good are both good without qualification and useful to each other. So too they are

pleasant; for the good are pleasant both without qualification and to each other, since to each his own

activities and others like them are pleasurable, and the actions of the good are the same or like. And such a

friendship is as might be expected permanent, since there meet in it all the qualities that friends should have.

For all friendship is for the sake of good or of pleasuregood or pleasure either in the abstract or such as will

be enjoyed by him who has the friendly feelingand is based on a certain resemblance; and to a friendship of

good men all the qualities we have named belong in virtue of the nature of the friends themselves; for in the

case of this kind of friendship the other qualities also are alike in both friends, and that which is good without

qualification is also without qualification pleasant, and these are the most lovable qualities. Love and

But it is natural that such friendships should be infrequent; for such men are rare. Further, such friendship

requires time and familiarity; as the proverb says, men cannot know each other till they have 'eaten salt

together'; nor can they admit each other to friendship or be friends till each has been found lovable and been

trusted by each. Those who quickly show the marks of friendship to each other wish to be friends, but are not

friends unless they both are lovable and know the fact; for a wish for friendship may arise quickly, but

This kind of friendship, then, is perfect both in respect of duration and in all other respects, and in it each gets

from each in all respects the same as, or something like what, he gives; which is what ought to happen

between friends. Friendship for the sake of pleasure bears a resemblance to this kind; for good people too are

pleasant to each other. So too does friendship for the sake of utility; for the good are also useful to each other.

Among men of these inferior sorts too, friendships are most permanent when the friends get the same thing

from each other (e.g. pleasure), and not only that but also from the same source, as happens between

readywitted people, not as happens between lover and beloved. For these do not take pleasure in the same

things, but the one in seeing the beloved and the other in receiving attentions from his lover; and when the

bloom of youth is passing the friendship sometimes passes too (for the one finds no pleasure in the sight of

the other, and the other gets no attentions from the first); but many lovers on the other hand are constant, if

familiarity has led them to love each other's characters, these being alike. But those who exchange not

pleasure but utility in their amour are both less truly friends and less constant. Those who are friends for the

sake of utility part when the advantage is at an end; for they were lovers not of each other but of profit.

For the sake of pleasure or utility, then, even bad men may be friends of each other, or good men of bad, or

one who is neither good nor bad may be a friend to any sort of person, but for their own sake clearly only

good men can be friends; for bad men do not delight in each other unless some advantage come of the

The friendship of the good too and this alone is proof against slander; for it is not easy to trust any one talk

about a man who has long been tested by oneself; and it is among good men that trust and the feeling that 'he

would never wrong me' and all the other things that are demanded in true friendship are found. In the other

kinds of friendship, however, there is nothing to prevent these evils arising. For men apply the name of

friends even to those whose motive is utility, in which sense states are said to be friendly (for the alliances of

states seem to aim at advantage), and to those who love each other for the sake of pleasure, in which sense

children are called friends. Therefore we too ought perhaps to call such people friends, and say that there are

several kinds of friendshipfirstly and in the proper sense that of good men qua good, and by analogy the

other kinds; for it is in virtue of something good and something akin to what is found in true friendship that

they are friends, since even the pleasant is good for the lovers of pleasure. But these two kinds of friendship

are not often united, nor do the same people become friends for the sake of utility and of pleasure; for things

Friendship being divided into these kinds, bad men will be friends for the sake of pleasure or of utility, being

in this respect like each other, but good men will be friends for their own sake, i.e. in virtue of their goodness.

These, then, are friends without qualification; the others are friends incidentally and through a resemblance to

As in regard to the virtues some men are called good in respect of a state of character, others in respect of an

activity, so too in the case of friendship; for those who live together delight in each other and confer benefits

on each other, but those who are asleep or locally separated are not performing, but are disposed to perform,

the activities of friendship; distance does not break off the friendship absolutely, but only the activity of it.

But if the absence is lasting, it seems actually to make men forget their friendship; hence the saying 'out of

sight, out of mind'. Neither old people nor sour people seem to make friends easily; for there is little that is

pleasant in them, and no one can spend his days with one whose company is painful, or not pleasant, since

nature seems above all to avoid the painful and to aim at the pleasant. Those, however, who approve of each

other but do not live together seem to be welldisposed rather than actual friends. For there is nothing so

characteristic of friends as living together (since while it people who are in need that desire benefits, even

those who are supremely happy desire to spend their days together; for solitude suits such people least of all);

but people cannot live together if they are not pleasant and do not enjoy the same things, as friends who are

The truest friendship, then, is that of the good, as we have frequently said; for that which is without

qualification good or pleasant seems to be lovable and desirable, and for each person that which is good or

pleasant to him; and the good man is lovable and desirable to the good man for both these reasons. Now it

looks as if love were a feeling, friendship a state of character; for love may be felt just as much towards

lifeless things, but mutual love involves choice and choice springs from a state of character; and men wish

well to those whom they love, for their sake, not as a result of feeling but as a result of a state of character.

And in loving a friend men love what is good for themselves; for the good man in becoming a friend becomes

a good to his friend. Each, then, both loves what is good for himself, and makes an equal return in goodwill

and in pleasantness; for friendship is said to be equality, and both of these are found most in the friendship of

Between sour and elderly people friendship arises less readily, inasmuch as they are less goodtempered and

enjoy companionship less; for these are thou to be the greatest marks of friendship productive of it. This is

why, while men become friends quickly, old men do not; it is because men do not become friends with those

in whom they do not delight; and similarly sour people do not quickly make friends either. But such men may

bear goodwill to each other; for they wish one another well and aid one another in need; but they are hardly

friends because they do not spend their days together nor delight in each other, and these are thought the

One cannot be a friend to many people in the sense of having friendship of the perfect type with them, just as

one cannot be in love with many people at once (for love is a sort of excess of feeling, and it is the nature of

such only to be felt towards one person); and it is not easy for many people at the same time to please the

same person very greatly, or perhaps even to be good in his eyes. One must, too, acquire some experience of

the other person and become familiar with him, and that is very hard. But with a view to utility or pleasure it

is possible that many people should please one; for many people are useful or pleasant, and these services

Of these two kinds that which is for the sake of pleasure is the more like friendship, when both parties get the

same things from each other and delight in each other or in the things, as in the friendships of the young; for

generosity is more found in such friendships. Friendship based on utility is for the commercially minded.

People who are supremely happy, too, have no need of useful friends, but do need pleasant friends; for they

wish to live with some one and, though they can endure for a short time what is painful, no one could put up

with it continuously, nor even with the Good itself if it were painful to him; this is why they look out for

friends who are pleasant. Perhaps they should look out for friends who, being pleasant, are also good, and

good for them too; for so they will have all the characteristics that friends should have.

People in positions of authority seem to have friends who fall into distinct classes; some people are useful to

them and others are pleasant, but the same people are rarely both; for they seek neither those whose

pleasantness is accompanied by virtue nor those whose utility is with a view to noble objects, but in their

desire for pleasure they seek for readywitted people, and their other friends they choose as being clever at

doing what they are told, and these characteristics are rarely combined. Now we have said that the good man

is at the same time pleasant and useful; but such a man does not become the friend of one who surpasses him

in station, unless he is surpassed also in virtue; if this is not so, he does not establish equality by being

proportionally exceeded in both respects. But people who surpass him in both respects are not so easy to find.

However that may be, the aforesaid friendships involve equality; for the friends get the same things from one

another and wish the same things for one another, or exchange one thing for another, e.g. pleasure for utility;

we have said, however, that they are both less truly friendships and less permanent.

But it is from their likeness and their unlikeness to the same thing that they are thought both to be and not to

be friendships. It is by their likeness to the friendship of virtue that they seem to be friendships (for one of

them involves pleasure and the other utility, and these characteristics belong to the friendship of virtue as

well); while it is because the friendship of virtue is proof against slander and permanent, while these quickly

change (besides differing from the former in many other respects), that they appear not to be friendships; i.e.

But there is another kind of friendship, viz. that which involves an inequality between the parties, e.g. that of

father to son and in general of elder to younger, that of man to wife and in general that of ruler to subject.

And these friendships differ also from each other; for it is not the same that exists between parents and

children and between rulers and subjects, nor is even that of father to son the same as that of son to father, nor

that of husband to wife the same as that of wife to husband. For the virtue and the function of each of these is

different, and so are the reasons for which they love; the love and the friendship are therefore different also.

Each party, then, neither gets the same from the other, nor ought to seek it; but when children render to

parents what they ought to render to those who brought them into the world, and parents render what they

should to their children, the friendship of such persons will be abiding and excellent. In all friendships

implying inequality the love also should be proportional, i.e. the better should be more loved than he loves,

and so should the more useful, and similarly in each of the other cases; for when the love is in proportion to

the merit of the parties, then in a sense arises equality, which is certainly held to be characteristic of

But equality does not seem to take the same form in acts of justice and in friendship; for in acts of justice

what is equal in the primary sense is that which is in proportion to merit, while quantitative equality is

secondary, but in friendship quantitative equality is primary and proportion to merit secondary. This becomes

clear if there is a great interval in respect of virtue or vice or wealth or anything else between the parties; for

then they are no longer friends, and do not even expect to be so. And this is most manifest in the case of the

gods; for they surpass us most decisively in all good things. But it is clear also in the case of kings; for with

them, too, men who are much their inferiors do not expect to be friends; nor do men of no account expect to

be friends with the best or wisest men. In such cases it is not possible to define exactly up to what point

friends can remain friends; for much can be taken away and friendship remain, but when one party is

removed to a great distance, as God is, the possibility of friendship ceases. This is in fact the origin of the

question whether friends really wish for their friends the greatest goods, e.g. that of being gods; since in that

case their friends will no longer be friends to them, and therefore will not be good things for them (for friends

are good things). The answer is that if we were right in saying that friend wishes good to friend for his sake,

his friend must remain the sort of being he is, whatever that may be; therefore it is for him oily so long as he

remains a man that he will wish the greatest goods. But perhaps not all the greatest goods; for it is for himself

Most people seem, owing to ambition, to wish to be loved rather than to love; which is why most men love

flattery; for the flatterer is a friend in an inferior position, or pretends to be such and to love more than he is

loved; and being loved seems to be akin to being honoured, and this is what most people aim at. But it seems

to be not for its own sake that people choose honour, but incidentally. For most people enjoy being honoured

by those in positions of authority because of their hopes (for they think that if they want anything they will

get it from them; and therefore they delight in honour as a token of favour to come); while those who desire

honour from good men, and men who know, are aiming at confirming their own opinion of themselves; they

delight in honour, therefore, because they believe in their own goodness on the strength of the judgement of

those who speak about them. In being loved, on the other hand, people delight for its own sake; whence it

would seem to be better than being honoured, and friendship to be desirable in itself. But it seems to lie in

loving rather than in being loved, as is indicated by the delight mothers take in loving; for some mothers hand

over their children to be brought up, and so long as they know their fate they love them and do not seek to be

loved in return (if they cannot have both), but seem to be satisfied if they see them prospering; and they

themselves love their children even if these owing to their ignorance give them nothing of a mother's due.

Now since friendship depends more on loving, and it is those who love their friends that are praised, loving

seems to be the characteristic virtue of friends, so that it is only those in whom this is found in due measure

It is in this way more than any other that even unequals can be friends; they can be equalized. Now equality

and likeness are friendship, and especially the likeness of those who are like in virtue; for being steadfast in

themselves they hold fast to each other, and neither ask nor give base services, but (one may say) even

prevent them; for it is characteristic of good men neither to go wrong themselves nor to let their friends do so.

But wicked men have no steadfastness (for they do not remain even like to themselves), but become friends

for a short time because they delight in each other's wickedness. Friends who are useful or pleasant last

longer; i.e. as long as they provide each other with enjoyments or advantages. Friendship for utility's sake

seems to be that which most easily exists between contraries, e.g. between poor and rich, between ignorant

and learned; for what a man actually lacks he aims at, and one gives something else in return. But under this

head, too, might bring lover and beloved, beautiful and ugly. This is why lovers sometimes seem ridiculous,

when they demand to be loved as they love; if they are equally lovable their claim can perhaps be justified,

but when they have nothing lovable about them it is ridiculous. Perhaps, however, contrary does not even aim

at contrary by its own nature, but only incidentally, the desire being for what is intermediate; for that is what

is good, e.g. it is good for the dry not to become wet but to come to the intermediate state, and similarly with

the hot and in all other cases. These subjects we may dismiss; for they are indeed somewhat foreign to our

Friendship and justice seem, as we have said at the outset of our discussion, to be concerned with the same

objects and exhibited between the same persons. For in every community there is thought to be some form of

justice, and friendship too; at least men address as friends their fellowvoyagers and fellowsoldiers, and so

too those associated with them in any other kind of community. And the extent of their association is the

extent of their friendship, as it is the extent to which justice exists between them. And the proverb 'what

friends have is common property' expresses the truth; for friendship depends on community. Now brothers

and comrades have all things in common, but the others to whom we have referred have definite things in

commonsome more things, others fewer; for of friendships, too, some are more and others less truly

friendships. And the claims of justice differ too; the duties of parents to children, and those of brothers to

each other are not the same, nor those of comrades and those of fellowcitizens, and so, too, with the other

kinds of friendship. There is a difference, therefore, also between the acts that are unjust towards each of

these classes of associates, and the injustice increases by being exhibited towards those who are friends in a

fuller sense; e.g. it is a more terrible thing to defraud a comrade than a fellowcitizen, more terrible not to

help a brother than a stranger, and more terrible to wound a father than any one else. And the demands of

justice also seem to increase with the intensity of the friendship, which implies that friendship and justice

Now all forms of community are like parts of the political community; for men journey together with a view

to some particular advantage, and to provide something that they need for the purposes of life; and it is for the

sake of advantage that the political community too seems both to have come together originally and to

endure, for this is what legislators aim at, and they call just that which is to the common advantage. Now the

other communities aim at advantage bit by bit, e.g. sailors at what is advantageous on a voyage with a view to

making money or something of the kind, fellowsoldiers at what is advantageous in war, whether it is wealth

or victory or the taking of a city that they seek, and members of tribes and demes act similarly (Some

communities seem to arise for the sake or pleasure, viz. religious guilds and social clubs; for these exist

respectively for the sake of offering sacrifice and of companionship. But all these seem to fall under the

political community; for it aims not at present advantage but at what is advantageous for life as a whole),

offering sacrifices and arranging gatherings for the purpose, and assigning honours to the gods, and providing

pleasant relaxations for themselves. For the ancient sacrifices and gatherings seem to take place after the

harvest as a sort of firstfruits, because it was at these seasons that people had most leisure. All the

communities, then, seem to be parts of the political community; and the particular kinds friendship will

There are three kinds of constitution, and an equal number of deviationformsperversions, as it were, of

them. The constitutions are monarchy, aristocracy, and thirdly that which is based on a property qualification,

which it seems appropriate to call timocratic, though most people are wont to call it polity. The best of these

is monarchy, the worst timocracy. The deviation from monarchy is tyrany; for both are forms of oneman

rule, but there is the greatest difference between them; the tyrant looks to his own advantage, the king to that

of his subjects. For a man is not a king unless he is sufficient to himself and excels his subjects in all good

things; and such a man needs nothing further; therefore he will not look to his own interests but to those of

his subjects; for a king who is not like that would be a mere titular king. Now tyranny is the very contrary of

this; the tyrant pursues his own good. And it is clearer in the case of tyranny that it is the worst

deviationform; but it is the contrary of the best that is worst. Monarchy passes over into tyranny; for tyranny

is the evil form of oneman rule and the bad king becomes a tyrant. Aristocracy passes over into oligarchy by

the badness of the rulers, who distribute contrary to equity what belongs to the cityall or most of the good

things to themselves, and office always to the same people, paying most regard to wealth; thus the rulers are

few and are bad men instead of the most worthy. Timocracy passes over into democracy; for these are

coterminous, since it is the ideal even of timocracy to be the rule of the majority, and all who have the

property qualification count as equal. Democracy is the least bad of the deviations; for in its case the form of

constitution is but a slight deviation. These then are the changes to which constitutions are most subject; for

One may find resemblances to the constitutions and, as it were, patterns of them even in households. For the

association of a father with his sons bears the form of monarchy, since the father cares for his children; and

this is why Homer calls Zeus 'father'; it is the ideal of monarchy to be paternal rule. But among the Persians

the rule of the father is tyrannical; they use their sons as slaves. Tyrannical too is the rule of a master over

slaves; for it is the advantage of the master that is brought about in it. Now this seems to be a correct form of

government, but the Persian type is perverted; for the modes of rule appropriate to different relations are

diverse. The association of man and wife seems to be aristocratic; for the man rules in accordance with his

worth, and in those matters in which a man should rule, but the matters that befit a woman he hands over to

her. If the man rules in everything the relation passes over into oligarchy; for in doing so he is not acting in

accordance with their respective worth, and not ruling in virtue of his superiority. Sometimes, however,

women rule, because they are heiresses; so their rule is not in virtue of excellence but due to wealth and

power, as in oligarchies. The association of brothers is like timocracy; for they are equal, except in so far as

they differ in age; hence if they differ much in age, the friendship is no longer of the fraternal type.

Democracy is found chiefly in masterless dwellings (for here every one is on an equality), and in those in

Each of the constitutions may be seen to involve friendship just in so far as it involves justice. The friendship

between a king and his subjects depends on an excess of benefits conferred; for he confers benefits on his

subjects if being a good man he cares for them with a view to their wellbeing, as a shepherd does for his

sheep (whence Homer called Agamemnon 'shepherd of the peoples'). Such too is the friendship of a father,

though this exceeds the other in the greatness of the benefits conferred; for he is responsible for the existence

of his children, which is thought the greatest good, and for their nurture and upbringing.

These things are ascribed to ancestors as well. Further, by nature a father tends to rule over his sons,

ancestors over descendants, a king over his subjects. These friendships imply superiority of one party over

the other, which is why ancestors are honoured. The justice therefore that exists between persons so related is

not the same on both sides but is in every case proportioned to merit; for that is true of the friendship as well.

The friendship of man and wife, again, is the same that is found in an aristocracy; for it is in accordance with

virtue the better gets more of what is good, and each gets what befits him; and so, too, with the justice in

these relations. The friendship of brothers is like that of comrades; for they are equal and of like age, and

such persons are for the most part like in their feelings and their character. Like this, too, is the friendship

appropriate to timocratic government; for in such a constitution the ideal is for the citizens to be equal and

fair; therefore rule is taken in turn, and on equal terms; and the friendship appropriate here will correspond.

But in the deviationforms, as justice hardly exists, so too does friendship. It exists least in the worst form; in

tyranny there is little or no friendship. For where there is nothing common to ruler and ruled, there is not

friendship either, since there is not justice; e.g. between craftsman and tool, soul and body, master and slave;

the latter in each case is benefited by that which uses it, but there is no friendship nor justice towards lifeless

things. But neither is there friendship towards a horse or an ox, nor to a slave qua slave. For there is nothing

common to the two parties; the slave is a living tool and the tool a lifeless slave. Qua slave then, one cannot

be friends with him. But qua man one can; for there seems to be some justice between any man and any other

who can share in a system of law or be a party to an agreement; therefore there can also be friendship with

him in so far as he is a man. Therefore while in tyrannies friendship and justice hardly exist, in democracies

they exist more fully; for where the citizens are equal they have much in common.

Every form of friendship, then, involves association, as has been said. One might, however, mark off from the

rest both the friendship of kindred and that of comrades. Those of fellowcitizens, fellowtribesmen,

fellowvoyagers, and the like are more like mere friendships of association; for they seem to rest on a sort of

compact. With them we might class the friendship of host and guest. The friendship of kinsmen itself, while

it seems to be of many kinds, appears to depend in every case on parental friendship; for parents love their

children as being a part of themselves, and children their parents as being something originating from them.

Now (1) arents know their offspring better than there children know that they are their children, and (2) the

originator feels his offspring to be his own more than the offspring do their begetter; for the product belongs

to the producer (e.g. a tooth or hair or anything else to him whose it is), but the producer does not belong to

the product, or belongs in a less degree. And (3) the length of time produces the same result; parents love

their children as soon as these are born, but children love their parents only after time has elapsed and they

have acquired understanding or the power of discrimination by the senses. From these considerations it is also

plain why mothers love more than fathers do. Parents, then, love their children as themselves (for their issue

are by virtue of their separate existence a sort of other selves), while children love their parents as being born

of them, and brothers love each other as being born of the same parents; for their identity with them makes

them identical with each other (which is the reason why people talk of 'the same blood', 'the same stock', and

so on). They are, therefore, in a sense the same thing, though in separate individuals. Two things that

contribute greatly to friendship are a common upbringing and similarity of age; for 'two of an age take to

each other', and people brought up together tend to be comrades; whence the friendship of brothers is akin to

that of comrades. And cousins and other kinsmen are bound up together by derivation from brothers, viz. by

being derived from the same parents. They come to be closer together or farther apart by virtue of the

The friendship of children to parents, and of men to gods, is a relation to them as to something good and

superior; for they have conferred the greatest benefits, since they are the causes of their being and of their

nourishment, and of their education from their birth; and this kind of friendship possesses pleasantness and

utility also, more than that of strangers, inasmuch as their life is lived more in common. The friendship of

brothers has the characteristics found in that of comrades (and especially when these are good), and in

general between people who are like each other, inasmuch as they belong more to each other and start with a

love for each other from their very birth, and inasmuch as those born of the same parents and brought up

together and similarly educated are more akin in character; and the test of time has been applied most fully

Between other kinsmen friendly relations are found in due proportion. Between man and wife friendship

seems to exist by nature; for man is naturally inclined to form coupleseven more than to form cities,

inasmuch as the household is earlier and more necessary than the city, and reproduction is more common to

man with the animals. With the other animals the union extends only to this point, but human beings live

together not only for the sake of reproduction but also for the various purposes of life; for from the start the

functions are divided, and those of man and woman are different; so they help each other by throwing their

peculiar gifts into the common stock. It is for these reasons that both utility and pleasure seem to be found in

this kind of friendship. But this friendship may be based also on virtue, if the parties are good; for each has its

own virtue and they will delight in the fact. And children seem to be a bond of union (which is the reason

why childless people part more easily); for children are a good common to both and what is common holds

How man and wife and in general friend and friend ought mutually to behave seems to be the same question

as how it is just for them to behave; for a man does not seem to have the same duties to a friend, a stranger, a

There are three kinds of friendship, as we said at the outset of our inquiry, and in respect of each some are

friends on an equality and others by virtue of a superiority (for not only can equally good men become friends

but a better man can make friends with a worse, and similarly in friendships of pleasure or utility the friends

may be equal or unequal in the benefits they confer). This being so, equals must effect the required

equalization on a basis of equality in love and in all other respects, while unequals must render what is in

proportion to their superiority or inferiority. Complaints and reproaches arise either only or chiefly in the

friendship of utility, and this is only to be expected. For those who are friends on the ground of virtue are

anxious to do well by each other (since that is a mark of virtue and of friendship), and between men who are

emulating each other in this there cannot be complaints or quarrels; no one is offended by a man who loves

him and does well by himif he is a person of nice feeling he takes his revenge by doing well by the other.

And the man who excels the other in the services he renders will not complain of his friend, since he gets

what he aims at; for each man desires what is good. Nor do complaints arise much even in friendships of

pleasure; for both get at the same time what they desire, if they enjoy spending their time together; and even a

man who complained of another for not affording him pleasure would seem ridiculous, since it is in his power

But the friendship of utility is full of complaints; for as they use each other for their own interests they always

want to get the better of the bargain, and think they have got less than they should, and blame their partners

because they do not get all they 'want and deserve'; and those who do well by others cannot help them as

Now it seems that, as justice is of two kinds, one unwritten and the other legal, one kind of friendship of

utility is moral and the other legal. And so complaints arise most of all when men do not dissolve the relation

in the spirit of the same type of friendship in which they contracted it. The legal type is that which is on fixed

terms; its purely commercial variety is on the basis of immediate payment, while the more liberal variety

allows time but stipulates for a definite quid pro quo. In this variety the debt is clear and not ambiguous, but

in the postponement it contains an element of friendliness; and so some states do not allow suits arising out of

such agreements, but think men who have bargained on a basis of credit ought to accept the consequences.

The moral type is not on fixed terms; it makes a gift, or does whatever it does, as to a friend; but one expects

to receive as much or more, as having not given but lent; and if a man is worse off when the relation is

dissolved than he was when it was contracted he will complain. This happens because all or most men, while

they wish for what is noble, choose what is advantageous; now it is noble to do well by another without a

view to repayment, but it is the receiving of benefits that is advantageous. Therefore if we can we should

return the equivalent of what we have received (for we must not make a man our friend against his will; we

must recognize that we were mistaken at the first and took a benefit from a person we should not have taken

it fromsince it was not from a friend, nor from one who did it just for the sake of acting soand we must

settle up just as if we had been benefited on fixed terms). Indeed, one would agree to repay if one could (if

one could not, even the giver would not have expected one to do so); therefore if it is possible we must repay.

But at the outset we must consider the man by whom we are being benefited and on what terms he is acting,

It is disputable whether we ought to measure a service by its utility to the receiver and make the return with a

view to that, or by the benevolence of the giver. For those who have received say they have received from

their benefactors what meant little to the latter and what they might have got from othersminimizing the

service; while the givers, on the contrary, say it was the biggest thing they had, and what could not have been

got from others, and that it was given in times of danger or similar need. Now if the friendship is one that

aims at utility, surely the advantage to the receiver is the measure. For it is he that asks for the service, and

the other man helps him on the assumption that he will receive the equivalent; so the assistance has been

precisely as great as the advantage to the receiver, and therefore he must return as much as he has received, or

even more (for that would be nobler). In friendships based on virtue on the other hand, complaints do not

arise, but the purpose of the doer is a sort of measure; for in purpose lies the essential element of virtue and

Differences arise also in friendships based on superiority; for each expects to get more out of them, but when

this happens the friendship is dissolved. Not only does the better man think he ought to get more, since more

should be assigned to a good man, but the more useful similarly expects this; they say a useless man should

not get as much as they should, since it becomes an act of public service and not a friendship if the proceeds

of the friendship do not answer to the worth of the benefits conferred. For they think that, as in a commercial

partnership those who put more in get more out, so it should be in friendship. But the man who is in a state of

need and inferiority makes the opposite claim; they think it is the part of a good friend to help those who are

in need; what, they say, is the use of being the friend of a good man or a powerful man, if one is to get

At all events it seems that each party is justified in his claim, and that each should get more out of the

friendship than the othernot more of the same thing, however, but the superior more honour and the inferior

more gain; for honour is the prize of virtue and of beneficence, while gain is the assistance required by

It seems to be so in constitutional arrangements also; the man who contributes nothing good to the common

stock is not honoured; for what belongs to the public is given to the man who benefits the public, and honour

does belong to the public. It is not possible to get wealth from the common stock and at the same time

honour. For no one puts up with the smaller share in all things; therefore to the man who loses in wealth they

assign honour and to the man who is willing to be paid, wealth, since the proportion to merit equalizes the

parties and preserves the friendship, as we have said. This then is also the way in which we should associate

with unequals; the man who is benefited in respect of wealth or virtue must give honour in return, repaying

what he can. For friendship asks a man to do what he can, not what is proportional to the merits of the case;

since that cannot always be done, e.g. in honours paid to the gods or to parents; for no one could ever return

to them the equivalent of what he gets, but the man who serves them to the utmost of his power is thought to

be a good man. This is why it would not seem open to a man to disown his father (though a father may

disown his son); being in debt, he should repay, but there is nothing by doing which a son will have done the

equivalent of what he has received, so that he is always in debt. But creditors can remit a debt; and a father

can therefore do so too. At the same time it is thought that presumably no one would repudiate a son who was

not far gone in wickedness; for apart from the natural friendship of father and son it is human nature not to

reject a son's assistance. But the son, if he is wicked, will naturally avoid aiding his father, or not be zealous

about it; for most people wish to get benefits, but avoid doing them, as a thing unprofitable.So much for

IN all friendships between dissimilars it is, as we have said, proportion that equalizes the parties and

preserves the friendship; e.g. in the political form of friendship the shoemaker gets a return for his shoes in

proportion to his worth, and the weaver and all other craftsmen do the same. Now here a common measure

has been provided in the form of money, and therefore everything is referred to this and measured by this; but

in the friendship of lovers sometimes the lover complains that his excess of love is not met by love in return

though perhaps there is nothing lovable about him), while often the beloved complains that the lover who

formerly promised everything now performs nothing. Such incidents happen when the lover loves the

beloved for the sake of pleasure while the beloved loves the lover for the sake of utility, and they do not both

possess the qualities expected of them. If these be the objects of the friendship it is dissolved when they do

not get the things that formed the motives of their love; for each did not love the other person himself but the

qualities he had, and these were not enduring; that is why the friendships also are transient. But the love of

characters, as has been said, endures because it is selfdependent. Differences arise when what they get is

something different and not what they desire; for it is like getting nothing at all when we do not get what we

aim at; compare the story of the person who made promises to a lyreplayer, promising him the more, the

better he sang, but in the morning, when the other demanded the fulfilment of his promises, said that he had

given pleasure for pleasure. Now if this had been what each wanted, all would have been well; but if the one

wanted enjoyment but the other gain, and the one has what he wants while the other has not, the terms of the

association will not have been properly fulfilled; for what each in fact wants is what he attends to, and it is for

But who is to fix the worth of the service; he who makes the sacrifice or he who has got the advantage? At

any rate the other seems to leave it to him. This is what they say Protagoras used to do; whenever he taught

anything whatsoever, he bade the learner assess the value of the knowledge, and accepted the amount so

fixed. But in such matters some men approve of the saying 'let a man have his fixed reward'. Those who get

the money first and then do none of the things they said they would, owing to the extravagance of their

promises, naturally find themselves the objects of complaint; for they do not fulfil what they agreed to. The

sophists are perhaps compelled to do this because no one would give money for the things they do know.

These people then, if they do not do what they have been paid for, are naturally made the objects of

But where there is no contract of service, those who give up something for the sake of the other party cannot

(as we have said) be complained of (for that is the nature of the friendship of virtue), and the return to them

must be made on the basis of their purpose (for it is purpose that is the characteristic thing in a friend and in

virtue). And so too, it seems, should one make a return to those with whom one has studied philosophy; for

their worth cannot be measured against money, and they can get no honour which will balance their services,

but still it is perhaps enough, as it is with the gods and with one's parents, to give them what one can.

If the gift was not of this sort, but was made with a view to a return, it is no doubt preferable that the return

made should be one that seems fair to both parties, but if this cannot be achieved, it would seem not only

necessary that the person who gets the first service should fix the reward, but also just; for if the other gets in

return the equivalent of the advantage the beneficiary has received, or the price lie would have paid for the

We see this happening too with things put up for sale, and in some places there are laws providing that no

actions shall arise out of voluntary contracts, on the assumption that one should settle with a person to whom

one has given credit, in the spirit in which one bargained with him. The law holds that it is more just that the

person to whom credit was given should fix the terms than that the person who gave credit should do so. For

most things are not assessed at the same value by those who have them and those who want them; each class

values highly what is its own and what it is offering; yet the return is made on the terms fixed by the receiver.

But no doubt the receiver should assess a thing not at what it seems worth when he has it, but at what he

A further problem is set by such questions as, whether one should in all things give the preference to one's

father and obey him, or whether when one is ill one should trust a doctor, and when one has to elect a general

should elect a man of military skill; and similarly whether one should render a service by preference to a

friend or to a good man, and should show gratitude to a benefactor or oblige a friend, if one cannot do both.

All such questions are hard, are they not, to decide with precision? For they admit of many variations of all

sorts in respect both of the magnitude of the service and of its nobility necessity. But that we should not give

the preference in all things to the same person is plain enough; and we must for the most part return benefits

rather than oblige friends, as we must pay back a loan to a creditor rather than make one to a friend. But

perhaps even this is not always true; e.g. should a man who has been ransomed out of the hands of brigands

ransom his ransomer in return, whoever he may be (or pay him if he has not been captured but demands

payment) or should he ransom his father? It would seem that he should ransom his father in preference even

to himself. As we have said, then, generally the debt should be paid, but if the gift is exceedingly noble or

exceedingly necessary, one should defer to these considerations. For sometimes it is not even fair to return

the equivalent of what one has received, when the one man has done a service to one whom he knows to be

good, while the other makes a return to one whom he believes to be bad. For that matter, one should

sometimes not lend in return to one who has lent to oneself; for the one person lent to a good man, expecting

to recover his loan, while the other has no hope of recovering from one who is believed to be bad. Therefore

if the facts really are so, the demand is not fair; and if they are not, but people think they are, they would be

held to be doing nothing strange in refusing. As we have often pointed out, then, discussions about feelings

That we should not make the same return to every one, nor give a father the preference in everything, as one

does not sacrifice everything to Zeus, is plain enough; but since we ought to render different things to

parents, brothers, comrades, and benefactors, we ought to render to each class what is appropriate and

becoming. And this is what people seem in fact to do; to marriages they invite their kinsfolk; for these have a

part in the family and therefore in the doings that affect the family; and at funerals also they think that

kinsfolk, before all others, should meet, for the same reason. And it would be thought that in the matter of

food we should help our parents before all others, since we owe our own nourishment to them, and it is more

honourable to help in this respect the authors of our being even before ourselves; and honour too one should

give to one's parents as one does to the gods, but not any and every honour; for that matter one should not

give the same honour to one's father and one's mother, nor again should one give them the honour due to a

philosopher or to a general, but the honour due to a father, or again to a mother. To all older persons, too, one

should give honour appropriate to their age, by rising to receive them and finding seats for them and so on;

while to comrades and brothers one should allow freedom of speech and common use of all things. To

kinsmen, too, and fellowtribesmen and fellowcitizens and to every other class one should always try to

assign what is appropriate, and to compare the claims of each class with respect to nearness of relation and to

virtue or usefulness. The comparison is easier when the persons belong to the same class, and more laborious

when they are different. Yet we must not on that account shrink from the task, but decide the question as best

Another question that arises is whether friendships should or should not be broken off when the other party

does not remain the same. Perhaps we may say that there is nothing strange in breaking off a friendship based

on utility or pleasure, when our friends no longer have these attributes. For it was of these attributes that we

were the friends; and when these have failed it is reasonable to love no longer. But one might complain of

another if, when he loved us for our usefulness or pleasantness, he pretended to love us for our character. For,

as we said at the outset, most differences arise between friends when they are not friends in the spirit in which

they think they are. So when a man has deceived himself and has thought he was being loved for his

character, when the other person was doing nothing of the kind, he must blame himself; when he has been

deceived by the pretences of the other person, it is just that he should complain against his deceiver; he will

complain with more justice than one does against people who counterfeit the currency, inasmuch as the

But if one accepts another man as good, and he turns out badly and is seen to do so, must one still love him?

Surely it is impossible, since not everything can be loved, but only what is good. What is evil neither can nor

should be loved; for it is not one's duty to be a lover of evil, nor to become like what is bad; and we have said

that like is dear like. Must the friendship, then, be forthwith broken off? Or is this not so in all cases, but only

when one's friends are incurable in their wickedness? If they are capable of being reformed one should rather

come to the assistance of their character or their property, inasmuch as this is better and more characteristic of

friendship. But a man who breaks off such a friendship would seem to be doing nothing strange; for it was

not to a man of this sort that he was a friend; when his friend has changed, therefore, and he is unable to save

But if one friend remained the same while the other became better and far outstripped him in virtue, should

the latter treat the former as a friend? Surely he cannot. When the interval is great this becomes most plain,

e.g. in the case of childish friendships; if one friend remained a child in intellect while the other became a

fully developed man, how could they be friends when they neither approved of the same things nor delighted

in and were pained by the same things? For not even with regard to each other will their tastes agree, and

without this (as we saw) they cannot be friends; for they cannot live together. But we have discussed these

Should he, then, behave no otherwise towards him than he would if he had never been his friend? Surely he

should keep a remembrance of their former intimacy, and as we think we ought to oblige friends rather than

strangers, so to those who have been our friends we ought to make some allowance for our former friendship,

Friendly relations with one's neighbours, and the marks by which friendships are defined, seem to have

proceeded from a man's relations to himself. For (1) we define a friend as one who wishes and does what is

good, or seems so, for the sake of his friend, or (2) as one who wishes his friend to exist and live, for his sake;

which mothers do to their children, and friends do who have come into conflict. And (3) others define him as

one who lives with and (4) has the same tastes as another, or (5) one who grieves and rejoices with his friend;

and this too is found in mothers most of all. It is by some one of these characterstics that friendship too is

Now each of these is true of the good man's relation to himself (and of all other men in so far as they think

themselves good; virtue and the good man seem, as has been said, to be the measure of every class of things).

For his opinions are harmonious, and he desires the same things with all his soul; and therefore he wishes for

himself what is good and what seems so, and does it (for it is characteristic of the good man to work out the

good), and does so for his own sake (for he does it for the sake of the intellectual element in him, which is

thought to be the man himself); and he wishes himself to live and be preserved, and especially the element by

virtue of which he thinks. For existence is good to the virtuous man, and each man wishes himself what is

good, while no one chooses to possess the whole world if he has first to become some one else (for that

matter, even now God possesses the good); he wishes for this only on condition of being whatever he is; and

the element that thinks would seem to be the individual man, or to be so more than any other element in him.

And such a man wishes to live with himself; for he does so with pleasure, since the memories of his past acts

are delightful and his hopes for the future are good, and therefore pleasant. His mind is well stored too with

subjects of contemplation. And he grieves and rejoices, more than any other, with himself; for the same thing

is always painful, and the same thing always pleasant, and not one thing at one time and another at another;

Therefore, since each of these characteristics belongs to the good man in relation to himself, and he is related

to his friend as to himself (for his friend is another self), friendship too is thought to be one of these

attributes, and those who have these attributes to be friends. Whether there is or is not friendship between a

man and himself is a question we may dismiss for the present; there would seem to be friendship in so far as

he is two or more, to judge from the aforementioned attributes of friendship, and from the fact that the

But the attributes named seem to belong even to the majority of men, poor creatures though they may be. Are

we to say then that in so far as they are satisfied with themselves and think they are good, they share in these

attributes? Certainly no one who is thoroughly bad and impious has these attributes, or even seems to do so.

They hardly belong even to inferior people; for they are at variance with themselves, and have appetites for

some things and rational desires for others. This is true, for instance, of incontinent people; for they choose,

instead of the things they themselves think good, things that are pleasant but hurtful; while others again,

through cowardice and laziness, shrink from doing what they think best for themselves. And those who have

done many terrible deeds and are hated for their wickedness even shrink from life and destroy themselves.

And wicked men seek for people with whom to spend their days, and shun themselves; for they remember

many a grevious deed, and anticipate others like them, when they are by themselves, but when they are with

others they forget. And having nothing lovable in them they have no feeling of love to themselves. Therefore

also such men do not rejoice or grieve with themselves; for their soul is rent by faction, and one element in it

by reason of its wickedness grieves when it abstains from certain acts, while the other part is pleased, and one

draws them this way and the other that, as if they were pulling them in pieces. If a man cannot at the same

time be pained and pleased, at all events after a short time he is pained because he was pleased, and he could

have wished that these things had not been pleasant to him; for bad men are laden with repentance.

Therefore the bad man does not seem to be amicably disposed even to himself, because there is nothing in

him to love; so that if to be thus is the height of wretchedness, we should strain every nerve to avoid

wickedness and should endeavour to be good; for so and only so can one be either friendly to oneself or a

Goodwill is a friendly sort of relation, but is not identical with friendship; for one may have goodwill both

towards people whom one does not know, and without their knowing it, but not friendship. This has indeed

been said already.' But goodwill is not even friendly feeling. For it does not involve intensity or desire,

whereas these accompany friendly feeling; and friendly feeling implies intimacy while goodwill may arise of

a sudden, as it does towards competitors in a contest; we come to feel goodwill for them and to share in their

wishes, but we would not do anything with them; for, as we said, we feel goodwill suddenly and love them

Goodwill seems, then, to be a beginning of friendship, as the pleasure of the eye is the beginning of love. For

no one loves if he has not first been delighted by the form of the beloved, but he who delights in the form of

another does not, for all that, love him, but only does so when he also longs for him when absent and craves

for his presence; so too it is not possible for people to be friends if they have not come to feel goodwill for

each other, but those who feel goodwill are not for all that friends; for they only wish well to those for whom

they feel goodwill, and would not do anything with them nor take trouble for them. And so one might by an

extension of the term friendship say that goodwill is inactive friendship, though when it is prolonged and

reaches the point of intimacy it becomes friendshipnot the friendship based on utility nor that based on

pleasure; for goodwill too does not arise on those terms. The man who has received a benefit bestows

goodwill in return for what has been done to him, but in doing so is only doing what is just; while he who

wishes some one to prosper because he hopes for enrichment through him seems to have goodwill not to him

but rather to himself, just as a man is not a friend to another if he cherishes him for the sake of some use to be

made of him. In general, goodwill arises on account of some excellence and worth, when one man seems to

another beautiful or brave or something of the sort, as we pointed out in the case of competitors in a contest.

Unanimity also seems to be a friendly relation. For this reason it is not identity of opinion; for that might

occur even with people who do not know each other; nor do we say that people who have the same views on

any and every subject are unanimous, e.g. those who agree about the heavenly bodies (for unanimity about

these is not a friendly relation), but we do say that a city is unanimous when men have the same opinion

about what is to their interest, and choose the same actions, and do what they have resolved in common. It is

about things to be done, therefore, that people are said to be unanimous, and, among these, about matters of

consequence and in which it is possible for both or all parties to get what they want; e.g. a city is unanimous

when all its citizens think that the offices in it should be elective, or that they should form an alliance with

Sparta, or that Pittacus should be their rulerat a time when he himself was also willing to rule. But when

each of two people wishes himself to have the thing in question, like the captains in the Phoenissae, they are

in a state of faction; for it is not unanimity when each of two parties thinks of the same thing, whatever that

may be, but only when they think of the same thing in the same hands, e.g. when both the common people

and those of the better class wish the best men to rule; for thus and thus alone do all get what they aim at.

Unanimity seems, then, to be political friendship, as indeed it is commonly said to be; for it is concerned with

Now such unanimity is found among good men; for they are unanimous both in themselves and with one

another, being, so to say, of one mind (for the wishes of such men are constant and not at the mercy of

opposing currents like a strait of the sea), and they wish for what is just and what is advantageous, and these

are the objects of their common endeavour as well. But bad men cannot be unanimous except to a small

extent, any more than they can be friends, since they aim at getting more than their share of advantages, while

in labour and public service they fall short of their share; and each man wishing for advantage to himself

criticizes his neighbour and stands in his way; for if people do not watch it carefully the common weal is

soon destroyed. The result is that they are in a state of faction, putting compulsion on each other but

Benefactors are thought to love those they have benefited, more than those who have been well treated love

those that have treated them well, and this is discussed as though it were paradoxical. Most people think it is

because the latter are in the position of debtors and the former of creditors; and therefore as, in the case of

loans, debtors wish their creditors did not exist, while creditors actually take care of the safety of their

debtors, so it is thought that benefactors wish the objects of their action to exist since they will then get their

gratitude, while the beneficiaries take no interest in making this return. Epicharmus would perhaps declare

that they say this because they 'look at things on their bad side', but it is quite like human nature; for most

people are forgetful, and are more anxious to be well treated than to treat others well. But the cause would

seem to be more deeply rooted in the nature of things; the case of those who have lent money is not even

analogous. For they have no friendly feeling to their debtors, but only a wish that they may kept safe with a

view to what is to be got from them; while those who have done a service to others feel friendship and love

for those they have served even if these are not of any use to them and never will be. This is what happens

with craftsmen too; every man loves his own handiwork better than he would be loved by it if it came alive;

and this happens perhaps most of all with poets; for they have an excessive love for their own poems, doting

on them as if they were their children. This is what the position of benefactors is like; for that which they

have treated well is their handiwork, and therefore they love this more than the handiwork does its maker.

The cause of this is that existence is to all men a thing to be chosen and loved, and that we exist by virtue of

activity (i.e. by living and acting), and that the handiwork is in a sense, the producer in activity; he loves his

handiwork, therefore, because he loves existence. And this is rooted in the nature of things; for what he is in

At the same time to the benefactor that is noble which depends on his action, so that he delights in the object

of his action, whereas to the patient there is nothing noble in the agent, but at most something advantageous,

and this is less pleasant and lovable. What is pleasant is the activity of the present, the hope of the future, the

memory of the past; but most pleasant is that which depends on activity, and similarly this is most lovable.

Now for a man who has made something his work remains (for the noble is lasting), but for the person acted

on the utility passes away. And the memory of noble things is pleasant, but that of useful things is not likely

Further, love is like activity, being loved like passivity; and loving and its concomitants are attributes of those

Again, all men love more what they have won by labour; e.g. those who have made their money love it more

than those who have inherited it; and to be well treated seems to involve no labour, while to treat others well

is a laborious task. These are the reasons, too, why mothers are fonder of their children than fathers; bringing

them into the world costs them more pains, and they know better that the children are their own. This last

The question is also debated, whether a man should love himself most, or some one else. People criticize

those who love themselves most, and call them selflovers, using this as an epithet of disgrace, and a bad

man seems to do everything for his own sake, and the more so the more wicked he isand so men reproach

him, for instance, with doing nothing of his own accordwhile the good man acts for honour's sake, and the

more so the better he is, and acts for his friend's sake, and sacrifices his own interest.

But the facts clash with these arguments, and this is not surprising. For men say that one ought to love best

one's best friend, and man's best friend is one who wishes well to the object of his wish for his sake, even if

no one is to know of it; and these attributes are found most of all in a man's attitude towards himself, and so

are all the other attributes by which a friend is defined; for, as we have said, it is from this relation that all the

characteristics of friendship have extended to our neighbours. All the proverbs, too, agree with this, e.g. 'a

single soul', and 'what friends have is common property', and 'friendship is equality', and 'charity begins at

home'; for all these marks will be found most in a man's relation to himself; he is his own best friend and

therefore ought to love himself best. It is therefore a reasonable question, which of the two views we should

Perhaps we ought to mark off such arguments from each other and determine how far and in what respects

each view is right. Now if we grasp the sense in which each school uses the phrase 'lover of self', the truth

may become evident. Those who use the term as one of reproach ascribe selflove to people who assign to

themselves the greater share of wealth, honours, and bodily pleasures; for these are what most people desire,

and busy themselves about as though they were the best of all things, which is the reason, too, why they

become objects of competition. So those who are grasping with regard to these things gratify their appetites

and in general their feelings and the irrational element of the soul; and most men are of this nature (which is

the reason why the epithet has come to be used as it isit takes its meaning from the prevailing type of

selflove, which is a bad one); it is just, therefore, that men who are lovers of self in this way are reproached

for being so. That it is those who give themselves the preference in regard to objects of this sort that most

people usually call lovers of self is plain; for if a man were always anxious that he himself, above all things,

should act justly, temperately, or in accordance with any other of the virtues, and in general were always to

try to secure for himself the honourable course, no one will call such a man a lover of self or blame him.

But such a man would seem more than the other a lover of self; at all events he assigns to himself the things

that are noblest and best, and gratifies the most authoritative element in and in all things obeys this; and just

as a city or any other systematic whole is most properly identified with the most authoritative element in it, so

is a man; and therefore the man who loves this and gratifies it is most of all a lover of self. Besides, a man is

said to have or not to have selfcontrol according as his reason has or has not the control, on the assumption

that this is the man himself; and the things men have done on a rational principle are thought most properly

their own acts and voluntary acts. That this is the man himself, then, or is so more than anything else, is plain,

and also that the good man loves most this part of him. Whence it follows that he is most truly a lover of self,

of another type than that which is a matter of reproach, and as different from that as living according to a

rational principle is from living as passion dictates, and desiring what is noble from desiring what seems

advantageous. Those, then, who busy themselves in an exceptional degree with noble actions all men approve

and praise; and if all were to strive towards what is noble and strain every nerve to do the noblest deeds,

everything would be as it should be for the common weal, and every one would secure for himself the goods

Therefore the good man should be a lover of self (for he will both himself profit by doing noble acts, and will

benefit his fellows), but the wicked man should not; for he will hurt both himself and his neighbours,

following as he does evil passions. For the wicked man, what he does clashes with what he ought to do, but

what the good man ought to do he does; for reason in each of its possessors chooses what is best for itself,

and the good man obeys his reason. It is true of the good man too that he does many acts for the sake of his

friends and his country, and if necessary dies for them; for he will throw away both wealth and honours and

in general the goods that are objects of competition, gaining for himself nobility; since he would prefer a

short period of intense pleasure to a long one of mild enjoyment, a twelvemonth of noble life to many years

of humdrum existence, and one great and noble action to many trivial ones. Now those who die for others

doubtless attain this result; it is therefore a great prize that they choose for themselves. They will throw away

wealth too on condition that their friends will gain more; for while a man's friend gains wealth he himself

achieves nobility; he is therefore assigning the greater good to himself. The same too is true of honour and

office; all these things he will sacrifice to his friend; for this is noble and laudable for himself. Rightly then is

he thought to be good, since he chooses nobility before all else. But he may even give up actions to his

friend; it may be nobler to become the cause of his friend's acting than to act himself. In all the actions,

therefore, that men are praised for, the good man is seen to assign to himself the greater share in what is

noble. In this sense, then, as has been said, a man should be a lover of self; but in the sense in which most

It is also disputed whether the happy man will need friends or not. It is said that those who are supremely

happy and selfsufficient have no need of friends; for they have the things that are good, and therefore being

selfsufficient they need nothing further, while a friend, being another self, furnishes what a man cannot

provide by his own effort; whence the saying 'when fortune is kind, what need of friends?' But it seems

strange, when one assigns all good things to the happy man, not to assign friends, who are thought the

greatest of external goods. And if it is more characteristic of a friend to do well by another than to be well

done by, and to confer benefits is characteristic of the good man and of virtue, and it is nobler to do well by

friends than by strangers, the good man will need people to do well by. This is why the question is asked

whether we need friends more in prosperity or in adversity, on the assumption that not only does a man in

adversity need people to confer benefits on him, but also those who are prospering need people to do well by.

Surely it is strange, too, to make the supremely happy man a solitary; for no one would choose the whole

world on condition of being alone, since man is a political creature and one whose nature is to live with

others. Therefore even the happy man lives with others; for he has the things that are by nature good. And

plainly it is better to spend his days with friends and good men than with strangers or any chance persons.

What then is it that the first school means, and in what respect is it right? Is it that most identify friends with

useful people? Of such friends indeed the supremely happy man will have no need, since he already has the

things that are good; nor will he need those whom one makes one's friends because of their pleasantness, or

he will need them only to a small extent (for his life, being pleasant, has no need of adventitious pleasure);

But that is surely not true. For we have said at the outset that happiness is an activity; and activity plainly

comes into being and is not present at the start like a piece of property. If (1) happiness lies in living and

being active, and the good man's activity is virtuous and pleasant in itself, as we have said at the outset, and

(2) a thing's being one's own is one of the attributes that make it pleasant, and (3) we can contemplate our

neighbours better than ourselves and their actions better than our own, and if the actions of virtuous men who

are their friends are pleasant to good men (since these have both the attributes that are naturally pleasant),if

this be so, the supremely happy man will need friends of this sort, since his purpose is to contemplate worthy

actions and actions that are his own, and the actions of a good man who is his friend have both these qualities.

Further, men think that the happy man ought to live pleasantly. Now if he were a solitary, life would be hard

for him; for by oneself it is not easy to be continuously active; but with others and towards others it is easier.

With others therefore his activity will be more continuous, and it is in itself pleasant, as it ought to be for the

man who is supremely happy; for a good man qua good delights in virtuous actions and is vexed at vicious

ones, as a musical man enjoys beautiful tunes but is pained at bad ones. A certain training in virtue arises also

If we look deeper into the nature of things, a virtuous friend seems to be naturally desirable for a virtuous

man. For that which is good by nature, we have said, is for the virtuous man good and pleasant in itself. Now

life is defined in the case of animals by the power of perception in that of man by the power of perception or

thought; and a power is defined by reference to the corresponding activity, which is the essential thing;

therefore life seems to be essentially the act of perceiving or thinking. And life is among the things that are

good and pleasant in themselves, since it is determinate and the determinate is of the nature of the good; and

that which is good by nature is also good for the virtuous man (which is the reason why life seems pleasant to

all men); but we must not apply this to a wicked and corrupt life nor to a life spent in pain; for such a life is

indeterminate, as are its attributes. The nature of pain will become plainer in what follows. But if life itself is

good and pleasant (which it seems to be, from the very fact that all men desire it, and particularly those who

are good and supremely happy; for to such men life is most desirable, and their existence is the most

supremely happy) and if he who sees perceives that he sees, and he who hears, that he hears, and he who

walks, that he walks, and in the case of all other activities similarly there is something which perceives that

we are active, so that if we perceive, we perceive that we perceive, and if we think, that we think; and if to

perceive that we perceive or think is to perceive that we exist (for existence was defined as perceiving or

thinking); and if perceiving that one lives is in itself one of the things that are pleasant (for life is by nature

good, and to perceive what is good present in oneself is pleasant); and if life is desirable, and particularly so

for good men, because to them existence is good and pleasant for they are pleased at the consciousness of the

presence in them of what is in itself good); and if as the virtuous man is to himself, he is to his friend also (for

his friend is another self):if all this be true, as his own being is desirable for each man, so, or almost so, is

that of his friend. Now his being was seen to be desirable because he perceived his own goodness, and such

perception is pleasant in itself. He needs, therefore, to be conscious of the existence of his friend as well, and

this will be realized in their living together and sharing in discussion and thought; for this is what living

together would seem to mean in the case of man, and not, as in the case of cattle, feeding in the same place.

If, then, being is in itself desirable for the supremely happy man (since it is by its nature good and pleasant),

and that of his friend is very much the same, a friend will be one of the things that are desirable. Now that

which is desirable for him he must have, or he will be deficient in this respect. The man who is to be happy

Should we, then, make as many friends as possible, oras in the case of hospitality it is thought to be suitable

advice, that one should be 'neither a man of many guests nor a man with none'will that apply to friendship as

well; should a man neither be friendless nor have an excessive number of friends?

To friends made with a view to utility this saying would seem thoroughly applicable; for to do services to

many people in return is a laborious task and life is not long enough for its performance. Therefore friends in

excess of those who are sufficient for our own life are superfluous, and hindrances to the noble life; so that

we have no need of them. Of friends made with a view to pleasure, also, few are enough, as a little seasoning

But as regards good friends, should we have as many as possible, or is there a limit to the number of one's

friends, as there is to the size of a city? You cannot make a city of ten men, and if there are a hundred

thousand it is a city no longer. But the proper number is presumably not a single number, but anything that

falls between certain fixed points. So for friends too there is a fixed number perhaps the largest number with

whom one can live together (for that, we found, thought to be very characteristic of friendship); and that one

cannot live with many people and divide oneself up among them is plain. Further, they too must be friends of

one another, if they are all to spend their days together; and it is a hard business for this condition to be

fulfilled with a large number. It is found difficult, too, to rejoice and to grieve in an intimate way with many

people, for it may likely happen that one has at once to be happy with one friend and to mourn with another.

Presumably, then, it is well not to seek to have as many friends as possible, but as many as are enough for the

purpose of living together; for it would seem actually impossible to be a great friend to many people. This is

why one cannot love several people; love is ideally a sort of excess of friendship, and that can only be felt

towards one person; therefore great friendship too can only be felt towards a few people. This seems to be

confirmed in practice; for we do not find many people who are friends in the comradely way of friendship,

and the famous friendships of this sort are always between two people. Those who have many friends and

mix intimately with them all are thought to be no one's friend, except in the way proper to fellowcitizens,

and such people are also called obsequious. In the way proper to fellowcitizens, indeed, it is possible to be

the friend of many and yet not be obsequious but a genuinely good man; but one cannot have with many

people the friendship based on virtue and on the character of our friends themselves, and we must be content

Do we need friends more in good fortune or in bad? They are sought after in both; for while men in adversity

need help, in prosperity they need people to live with and to make the objects of their beneficence; for they

wish to do well by others. Friendship, then, is more necessary in bad fortune, and so it is useful friends that

one wants in this case; but it is more noble in good fortune, and so we also seek for good men as our friends,

since it is more desirable to confer benefits on these and to live with these. For the very presence of friends is

pleasant both in good fortune and also in bad, since grief is lightened when friends sorrow with us. Hence one

might ask whether they share as it were our burden, orwithout that happeningtheir presence by its

pleasantness, and the thought of their grieving with us, make our pain less. Whether it is for these reasons or

for some other that our grief is lightened, is a question that may be dismissed; at all events what we have

But their presence seems to contain a mixture of various factors. The very seeing of one's friends is pleasant,

especially if one is in adversity, and becomes a safeguard against grief (for a friend tends to comfort us both

by the sight of him and by his words, if he is tactful, since he knows our character and the things that please

or pain us); but to see him pained at our misfortunes is painful; for every one shuns being a cause of pain to

his friends. For this reason people of a manly nature guard against making their friends grieve with them, and,

unless he be exceptionally insensible to pain, such a man cannot stand the pain that ensues for his friends, and

in general does not admit fellowmourners because he is not himself given to mourning; but women and

womanly men enjoy sympathisers in their grief, and love them as friends and companions in sorrow. But in

On the other hand, the presence of friends in our prosperity implies both a pleasant passing of our time and

the pleasant thought of their pleasure at our own good fortune. For this cause it would seem that we ought to

summon our friends readily to share our good fortunes (for the beneficent character is a noble one), but

summon them to our bad fortunes with hesitation; for we ought to give them as little a share as possible in

our evils whence the saying 'enough is my misfortune'. We should summon friends to us most of all when

Conversely, it is fitting to go unasked and readily to the aid of those in adversity (for it is characteristic of a

friend to render services, and especially to those who are in need and have not demanded them; such action is

nobler and pleasanter for both persons); but when our friends are prosperous we should join readily in their

activities (for they need friends for these too), but be tardy in coming forward to be the objects of their

kindness; for it is not noble to be keen to receive benefits. Still, we must no doubt avoid getting the reputation

Does it not follow, then, that, as for lovers the sight of the beloved is the thing they love most, and they prefer

this sense to the others because on it love depends most for its being and for its origin, so for friends the most

desirable thing is living together? For friendship is a partnership, and as a man is to himself, so is he to his

friend; now in his own case the consciousness of his being is desirable, and so therefore is the consciousness

of his friend's being, and the activity of this consciousness is produced when they live together, so that it is

natural that they aim at this. And whatever existence means for each class of men, whatever it is for whose

sake they value life, in that they wish to occupy themselves with their friends; and so some drink together,

others dice together, others join in athletic exercises and hunting, or in the study of philosophy, each class

spending their days together in whatever they love most in life; for since they wish to live with their friends,

they do and share in those things which give them the sense of living together. Thus the friendship of bad

men turns out an evil thing (for because of their instability they unite in bad pursuits, and besides they

become evil by becoming like each other), while the friendship of good men is good, being augmented by

their companionship; and they are thought to become better too by their activities and by improving each

other; for from each other they take the mould of the characteristics they approvewhence the saying 'noble

deeds from noble men'.So much, then, for friendship; our next task must be to discuss pleasure.

AFTER these matters we ought perhaps next to discuss pleasure. For it is thought to be most intimately

connected with our human nature, which is the reason why in educating the young we steer them by the

rudders of pleasure and pain; it is thought, too, that to enjoy the things we ought and to hate the things we

ought has the greatest bearing on virtue of character. For these things extend right through life, with a weight

and power of their own in respect both to virtue and to the happy life, since men choose what is pleasant and

avoid what is painful; and such things, it will be thought, we should least of all omit to discuss, especially

since they admit of much dispute. For some say pleasure is the good, while others, on the contrary, say it is

thoroughly badsome no doubt being persuaded that the facts are so, and others thinking it has a better effect

on our life to exhibit pleasure as a bad thing even if it is not; for most people (they think) incline towards it

and are the slaves of their pleasures, for which reason they ought to lead them in the opposite direction, since

thus they will reach the middle state. But surely this is not correct. For arguments about matters concerned

with feelings and actions are less reliable than facts: and so when they clash with the facts of perception they

are despised, and discredit the truth as well; if a man who runs down pleasure is once seen to be alming at it,

his inclining towards it is thought to imply that it is all worthy of being aimed at; for most people are not

good at drawing distinctions. True arguments seem, then, most useful, not only with a view to knowledge, but

with a view to life also; for since they harmonize with the facts they are believed, and so they stimulate those

who understand them to live according to them.Enough of such questions; let us proceed to review the

Eudoxus thought pleasure was the good because he saw all things, both rational and irrational, aiming at it,

and because in all things that which is the object of choice is what is excellent, and that which is most the

object of choice the greatest good; thus the fact that all things moved towards the same object indicated that

this was for all things the chief good (for each thing, he argued, finds its own good, as it finds its own

nourishment); and that which is good for all things and at which all aim was the good. His arguments were

credited more because of the excellence of his character than for their own sake; he was thought to be

remarkably selfcontrolled, and therefore it was thought that he was not saying what he did say as a friend of

pleasure, but that the facts really were so. He believed that the same conclusion followed no less plainly from

a study of the contrary of pleasure; pain was in itself an object of aversion to all things, and therefore its

contrary must be similarly an object of choice. And again that is most an object of choice which we choose

not because or for the sake of something else, and pleasure is admittedly of this nature; for no one asks to

what end he is pleased, thus implying that pleasure is in itself an object of choice. Further, he argued that

pleasure when added to any good, e.g. to just or temperate action, makes it more worthy of choice, and that it

This argument seems to show it to be one of the goods, and no more a good than any other; for every good is

more worthy of choice along with another good than taken alone. And so it is by an argument of this kind that

Plato proves the good not to be pleasure; he argues that the pleasant life is more desirable with wisdom than

without, and that if the mixture is better, pleasure is not the good; for the good cannot become more desirable

by the addition of anything to it. Now it is clear that nothing else, any more than pleasure, can be the good if

it is made more desirable by the addition of any of the things that are good in themselves. What, then, is there

that satisfies this criterion, which at the same time we can participate in? It is something of this sort that we

are looking for. Those who object that that at which all things aim is not necessarily good are, we may

surmise, talking nonsense. For we say that that which every one thinks really is so; and the man who attacks

this belief will hardly have anything more credible to maintain instead. If it is senseless creatures that desire

the things in question, there might be something in what they say; but if intelligent creatures do so as well,

what sense can there be in this view? But perhaps even in inferior creatures there is some natural good

Nor does the argument about the contrary of pleasure seem to be correct. They say that if pain is an evil it

does not follow that pleasure is a good; for evil is opposed to evil and at the same time both are opposed to

the neutral statewhich is correct enough but does not apply to the things in question. For if both pleasure and

pain belonged to the class of evils they ought both to be objects of aversion, while if they belonged to the

class of neutrals neither should be an object of aversion or they should both be equally so; but in fact people

evidently avoid the one as evil and choose the other as good; that then must be the nature of the opposition

Nor again, if pleasure is not a quality, does it follow that it is not a good; for the activities of virtue are not

qualities either, nor is happiness. They say, however, that the good is determinate, while pleasure is

indeterminate, because it admits of degrees. Now if it is from the feeling of pleasure that they judge thus, the

same will be true of justice and the other virtues, in respect of which we plainly say that people of a certain

character are so more or less, and act more or less in accordance with these virtues; for people may be more

just or brave, and it is possible also to act justly or temperately more or less. But if their judgement is based

on the various pleasures, surely they are not stating the real cause, if in fact some pleasures are unmixed and

others mixed. Again, just as health admits of degrees without being indeterminate, why should not pleasure?

The same proportion is not found in all things, nor a single proportion always in the same thing, but it may be

relaxed and yet persist up to a point, and it may differ in degree. The case of pleasure also may therefore be

Again, they assume that the good is perfect while movements and comings into being are imperfect, and try

to exhibit pleasure as being a movement and a coming into being. But they do not seem to be right even in

saying that it is a movement. For speed and slowness are thought to be proper to every movement, and if a

movement, e.g. that of the heavens, has not speed or slowness in itself, it has it in relation to something else;

but of pleasure neither of these things is true. For while we may become pleased quickly as we may become

angry quickly, we cannot be pleased quickly, not even in relation to some one else, while we can walk, or

grow, or the like, quickly. While, then, we can change quickly or slowly into a state of pleasure, we cannot

quickly exhibit the activity of pleasure, i.e. be pleased. Again, how can it be a coming into being? It is not

thought that any chance thing can come out of any chance thing, but that a thing is dissolved into that out of

which it comes into being; and pain would be the destruction of that of which pleasure is the coming into

They say, too, that pain is the lack of that which is according to nature, and pleasure is replenishment. But

these experiences are bodily. If then pleasure is replenishment with that which is according to nature, that

which feels pleasure will be that in which the replenishment takes place, i.e. the body; but that is not thought

to be the case; therefore the replenishment is not pleasure, though one would be pleased when replenishment

was taking place, just as one would be pained if one was being operated on. This opinion seems to be based

on the pains and pleasures connected with nutrition; on the fact that when people have been short of food and

have felt pain beforehand they are pleased by the replenishment. But this does not happen with all pleasures;

for the pleasures of learning and, among the sensuous pleasures, those of smell, and also many sounds and

sights, and memories and hopes, do not presuppose pain. Of what then will these be the coming into being?

In reply to those who bring forward the disgraceful pleasures one may say that these are not pleasant; if

things are pleasant to people of vicious constitution, we must not suppose that they are also pleasant to others

than these, just as we do not reason so about the things that are wholesome or sweet or bitter to sick people,

or ascribe whiteness to the things that seem white to those suffering from a disease of the eye. Or one might

answer thusthat the pleasures are desirable, but not from these sources, as wealth is desirable, but not as the

reward of betrayal, and health, but not at the cost of eating anything and everything. Or perhaps pleasures

differ in kind; for those derived from noble sources are different from those derived from base sources, and

one cannot the pleasure of the just man without being just, nor that of the musical man without being musical,

The fact, too, that a friend is different from a flatterer seems to make it plain that pleasure is not a good or

that pleasures are different in kind; for the one is thought to consort with us with a view to the good, the other

with a view to our pleasure, and the one is reproached for his conduct while the other is praised on the ground

that he consorts with us for different ends. And no one would choose to live with the intellect of a child

throughout his life, however much he were to be pleased at the things that children are pleased at, nor to get

enjoyment by doing some most disgraceful deed, though he were never to feel any pain in consequence. And

there are many things we should be keen about even if they brought no pleasure, e.g. seeing, remembering,

knowing, possessing the virtues. If pleasures necessarily do accompany these, that makes no odds; we should

choose these even if no pleasure resulted. It seems to be clear, then, that neither is pleasure the good nor is all

pleasure desirable, and that some pleasures are desirable in themselves, differing in kind or in their sources

What pleasure is, or what kind of thing it is, will become plainer if we take up the question aga from the

beginning. Seeing seems to be at any moment complete, for it does not lack anything which coming into

being later will complete its form; and pleasure also seems to be of this nature. For it is a whole, and at no

time can one find a pleasure whose form will be completed if the pleasure lasts longer. For this reason, too, it

is not a movement. For every movement (e.g. that of building) takes time and is for the sake of an end, and is

complete when it has made what it aims at. It is complete, therefore, only in the whole time or at that final

moment. In their parts and during the time they occupy, all movements are incomplete, and are different in

kind from the whole movement and from each other. For the fitting together of the stones is different from

the fluting of the column, and these are both different from the making of the temple; and the making of the

temple is complete (for it lacks nothing with a view to the end proposed), but the making of the base or of the

triglyph is incomplete; for each is the making of only a part. They differ in kind, then, and it is not possible to

find at any and every time a movement complete in form, but if at all, only in the whole time. So, too, in the

case of walking and all other movements. For if locomotion is a movement from to there, it, too, has

differences in kindflying, walking, leaping, and so on. And not only so, but in walking itself there are such

differences; for the whence and whither are not the same in the whole racecourse and in a part of it, nor in

one part and in another, nor is it the same thing to traverse this line and that; for one traverses not only a line

but one which is in a place, and this one is in a different place from that. We have discussed movement with

precision in another work, but it seems that it is not complete at any and every time, but that the many

movements are incomplete and different in kind, since the whence and whither give them their form. But of

pleasure the form is complete at any and every time. Plainly, then, pleasure and movement must be different

from each other, and pleasure must be one of the things that are whole and complete. This would seem to be

the case, too, from the fact that it is not possible to move otherwise than in time, but it is possible to be

From these considerations it is clear, too, that these thinkers are not right in saying there is a movement or a

coming into being of pleasure. For these cannot be ascribed to all things, but only to those that are divisible

and not wholes; there is no coming into being of seeing nor of a point nor of a unit, nor is any of these a

movement or coming into being; therefore there is no movement or coming into being of pleasure either; for

Since every sense is active in relation to its object, and a sense which is in good condition acts perfectly in

relation to the most beautiful of its objects (for perfect activity seems to be ideally of this nature; whether we

say that it is active, or the organ in which it resides, may be assumed to be immaterial), it follows that in the

case of each sense the best activity is that of the bestconditioned organ in relation to the finest of its objects.

And this activity will be the most complete and pleasant. For, while there is pleasure in respect of any sense,

and in respect of thought and contemplation no less, the most complete is pleasantest, and that of a

wellconditioned organ in relation to the worthiest of its objects is the most complete; and the pleasure

completes the activity. But the pleasure does not complete it in the same way as the combination of object

and sense, both good, just as health and the doctor are not in the same way the cause of a man's being healthy.

(That pleasure is produced in respect to each sense is plain; for we speak of sights and sounds as pleasant. It

is also plain that it arises most of all when both the sense is at its best and it is active in reference to an object

which corresponds; when both object and perceiver are of the best there will always be pleasure, since the

requisite agent and patient are both present.) Pleasure completes the activity not as the corresponding

permanent state does, by its immanence, but as an end which supervenes as the bloom of youth does on those

in the flower of their age. So long, then, as both the intelligible or sensible object and the discriminating or

contemplative faculty are as they should be, the pleasure will be involved in the activity; for when both the

passive and the active factor are unchanged and are related to each other in the same way, the same result

How, then, is it that no one is continuously pleased? Is it that we grow weary? Certainly all human beings are

incapable of continuous activity. Therefore pleasure also is not continuous; for it accompanies activity. Some

things delight us when they are new, but later do so less, for the same reason; for at first the mind is in a state

of stimulation and intensely active about them, as people are with respect to their vision when they look hard

at a thing, but afterwards our activity is not of this kind, but has grown relaxed; for which reason the pleasure

One might think that all men desire pleasure because they all aim at life; life is an activity, and each man is

active about those things and with those faculties that he loves most; e.g. the musician is active with his

hearing in reference to tunes, the student with his mind in reference to theoretical questions, and so on in each

case; now pleasure completes the activities, and therefore life, which they desire. It is with good reason, then,

that they aim at pleasure too, since for every one it completes life, which is desirable. But whether we choose

life for the sake of pleasure or pleasure for the sake of life is a question we may dismiss for the present. For

they seem to be bound up together and not to admit of separation, since without activity pleasure does not

For this reason pleasures seem, too, to differ in kind. For things different in kind are, we think, completed by

different things (we see this to be true both of natural objects and of things produced by art, e.g. animals,

trees, a painting, a sculpture, a house, an implement); and, similarly, we think that activities differing in kind

are completed by things differing in kind. Now the activities of thought differ from those of the senses, and

both differ among themselves, in kind; so, therefore, do the pleasures that complete them.

This may be seen, too, from the fact that each of the pleasures is bound up with the activity it completes. For

an activity is intensified by its proper pleasure, since each class of things is better judged of and brought to

precision by those who engage in the activity with pleasure; e.g. it is those who enjoy geometrical thinking

that become geometers and grasp the various propositions better, and, similarly, those who are fond of music

or of building, and so on, make progress in their proper function by enjoying it; so the pleasures intensify the

activities, and what intensifies a thing is proper to it, but things different in kind have properties different in

This will be even more apparent from the fact that activities are hindered by pleasures arising from other

sources. For people who are fond of playing the flute are incapable of attending to arguments if they overhear

some one playing the flute, since they enjoy fluteplaying more than the activity in hand; so the pleasure

connected with fluteplaying destroys the activity concerned with argument. This happens, similarly, in all

other cases, when one is active about two things at once; the more pleasant activity drives out the other, and if

it is much more pleasant does so all the more, so that one even ceases from the other. This is why when we

enjoy anything very much we do not throw ourselves into anything else, and do one thing only when we are

not much pleased by another; e.g. in the theatre the people who eat sweets do so most when the actors are

poor. Now since activities are made precise and more enduring and better by their proper pleasure, and

injured by alien pleasures, evidently the two kinds of pleasure are far apart. For alien pleasures do pretty

much what proper pains do, since activities are destroyed by their proper pains; e.g. if a man finds writing or

doing sums unpleasant and painful, he does not write, or does not do sums, because the activity is painful. So

an activity suffers contrary effects from its proper pleasures and pains, i.e. from those that supervene on it in

virtue of its own nature. And alien pleasures have been stated to do much the same as pain; they destroy the

Now since activities differ in respect of goodness and badness, and some are worthy to be chosen, others to

be avoided, and others neutral, so, too, are the pleasures; for to each activity there is a proper pleasure. The

pleasure proper to a worthy activity is good and that proper to an unworthy activity bad; just as the appetites

for noble objects are laudable, those for base objects culpable. But the pleasures involved in activities are

more proper to them than the desires; for the latter are separated both in time and in nature, while the former

are close to the activities, and so hard to distinguish from them that it admits of dispute whether the activity is

not the same as the pleasure. (Still, pleasure does not seem to be thought or perceptionthat would be strange;

but because they are not found apart they appear to some people the same.) As activities are different, then,

so are the corresponding pleasures. Now sight is superior to touch in purity, and hearing and smell to taste;

the pleasures, therefore, are similarly superior, and those of thought superior to these, and within each of the

Each animal is thought to have a proper pleasure, as it has a proper function; viz. that which corresponds to

its activity. If we survey them species by species, too, this will be evident; horse, dog, and man have different

pleasures, as Heraclitus says 'asses would prefer sweepings to gold'; for food is pleasanter than gold to asses.

So the pleasures of creatures different in kind differ in kind, and it is plausible to suppose that those of a

single species do not differ. But they vary to no small extent, in the case of men at least; the same things

delight some people and pain others, and are painful and odious to some, and pleasant to and liked by others.

This happens, too, in the case of sweet things; the same things do not seem sweet to a man in a fever and a

healthy mannor hot to a weak man and one in good condition. The same happens in other cases. But in all

such matters that which appears to the good man is thought to be really so. If this is correct, as it seems to be,

and virtue and the good man as such are the measure of each thing, those also will be pleasures which appear

so to him, and those things pleasant which he enjoys. If the things he finds tiresome seem pleasant to some

one, that is nothing surprising; for men may be ruined and spoilt in many ways; but the things are not

pleasant, but only pleasant to these people and to people in this condition. Those which are admittedly

disgraceful plainly should not be said to be pleasures, except to a perverted taste; but of those that are thought

to be good what kind of pleasure or what pleasure should be said to be that proper to man? Is it not plain from

the corresponding activities? The pleasures follow these. Whether, then, the perfect and supremely happy

man has one or more activities, the pleasures that perfect these will be said in the strict sense to be pleasures

proper to man, and the rest will be so in a secondary and fractional way, as are the activities.

Now that we have spoken of the virtues, the forms of friendship, and the varieties of pleasure, what remains

is to discuss in outline the nature of happiness, since this is what we state the end of human nature to be. Our

discussion will be the more concise if we first sum up what we have said already. We said, then, that it is not

a disposition; for if it were it might belong to some one who was asleep throughout his life, living the life of a

plant, or, again, to some one who was suffering the greatest misfortunes. If these implications are

unacceptable, and we must rather class happiness as an activity, as we have said before, and if some activities

are necessary, and desirable for the sake of something else, while others are so in themselves, evidently

happiness must be placed among those desirable in themselves, not among those desirable for the sake of

something else; for happiness does not lack anything, but is selfsufficient. Now those activities are desirable

in themselves from which nothing is sought beyond the activity. And of this nature virtuous actions are

thought to be; for to do noble and good deeds is a thing desirable for its own sake.

Pleasant amusements also are thought to be of this nature; we choose them not for the sake of other things;

for we are injured rather than benefited by them, since we are led to neglect our bodies and our property. But

most of the people who are deemed happy take refuge in such pastimes, which is the reason why those who

are readywitted at them are highly esteemed at the courts of tyrants; they make themselves pleasant

companions in the tyrants' favourite pursuits, and that is the sort of man they want. Now these things are

thought to be of the nature of happiness because people in despotic positions spend their leisure in them, but

perhaps such people prove nothing; for virtue and reason, from which good activities flow, do not depend on

despotic position; nor, if these people, who have never tasted pure and generous pleasure, take refuge in the

bodily pleasures, should these for that reason be thought more desirable; for boys, too, think the things that

are valued among themselves are the best. It is to be expected, then, that, as different things seem valuable to

boys and to men, so they should to bad men and to good. Now, as we have often maintained, those things are

both valuable and pleasant which are such to the good man; and to each man the activity in accordance with

his own disposition is most desirable, and, therefore, to the good man that which is in accordance with virtue.

Happiness, therefore, does not lie in amusement; it would, indeed, be strange if the end were amusement, and

one were to take trouble and suffer hardship all one's life in order to amuse oneself. For, in a word,

everything that we choose we choose for the sake of something elseexcept happiness, which is an end. Now

to exert oneself and work for the sake of amusement seems silly and utterly childish. But to amuse oneself in

order that one may exert oneself, as Anacharsis puts it, seems right; for amusement is a sort of relaxation, and

we need relaxation because we cannot work continuously. Relaxation, then, is not an end; for it is taken for

The happy life is thought to be virtuous; now a virtuous life requires exertion, and does not consist in

amusement. And we say that serious things are better than laughable things and those connected with

amusement, and that the activity of the better of any two thingswhether it be two elements of our being or

two menis the more serious; but the activity of the better is ipso facto superior and more of the nature of

happiness. And any chance personeven a slavecan enjoy the bodily pleasures no less than the best man; but

no one assigns to a slave a share in happinessunless he assigns to him also a share in human life. For

happiness does not lie in such occupations, but, as we have said before, in virtuous activities.

If happiness is activity in accordance with virtue, it is reasonable that it should be in accordance with the

highest virtue; and this will be that of the best thing in us. Whether it be reason or something else that is this

element which is thought to be our natural ruler and guide and to take thought of things noble and divine,

whether it be itself also divine or only the most divine element in us, the activity of this in accordance with its

proper virtue will be perfect happiness. That this activity is contemplative we have already said.

Now this would seem to be in agreement both with what we said before and with the truth. For, firstly, this

activity is the best (since not only is reason the best thing in us, but the objects of reason are the best of

knowable objects); and secondly, it is the most continuous, since we can contemplate truth more continuously

than we can do anything. And we think happiness has pleasure mingled with it, but the activity of philosophic

wisdom is admittedly the pleasantest of virtuous activities; at all events the pursuit of it is thought to offer

pleasures marvellous for their purity and their enduringness, and it is to be expected that those who know will

pass their time more pleasantly than those who inquire. And the selfsufficiency that is spoken of must

belong most to the contemplative activity. For while a philosopher, as well as a just man or one possessing

any other virtue, needs the necessaries of life, when they are sufficiently equipped with things of that sort the

just man needs people towards whom and with whom he shall act justly, and the temperate man, the brave

man, and each of the others is in the same case, but the philosopher, even when by himself, can contemplate

truth, and the better the wiser he is; he can perhaps do so better if he has fellowworkers, but still he is the

most selfsufficient. And this activity alone would seem to be loved for its own sake; for nothing arises from

it apart from the contemplating, while from practical activities we gain more or less apart from the action.

And happiness is thought to depend on leisure; for we are busy that we may have leisure, and make war that

we may live in peace. Now the activity of the practical virtues is exhibited in political or military affairs, but

the actions concerned with these seem to be unleisurely. Warlike actions are completely so (for no one

chooses to be at war, or provokes war, for the sake of being at war; any one would seem absolutely

murderous if he were to make enemies of his friends in order to bring about battle and slaughter); but the

action of the statesman is also unleisurely, andapart from the political action itselfaims at despotic power

and honours, or at all events happiness, for him and his fellow citizensa happiness different from political

action, and evidently sought as being different. So if among virtuous actions political and military actions are

distinguished by nobility and greatness, and these are unleisurely and aim at an end and are not desirable for

their own sake, but the activity of reason, which is contemplative, seems both to be superior in serious worth

and to aim at no end beyond itself, and to have its pleasure proper to itself (and this augments the activity),

and the selfsufficiency, leisureliness, unweariedness (so far as this is possible for man), and all the other

attributes ascribed to the supremely happy man are evidently those connected with this activity, it follows

that this will be the complete happiness of man, if it be allowed a complete term of life (for none of the

But such a life would be too high for man; for it is not in so far as he is man that he will live so, but in so far

as something divine is present in him; and by so much as this is superior to our composite nature is its

activity superior to that which is the exercise of the other kind of virtue. If reason is divine, then, in

comparison with man, the life according to it is divine in comparison with human life. But we must not

follow those who advise us, being men, to think of human things, and, being mortal, of mortal things, but

must, so far as we can, make ourselves immortal, and strain every nerve to live in accordance with the best

thing in us; for even if it be small in bulk, much more does it in power and worth surpass everything. This

would seem, too, to be each man himself, since it is the authoritative and better part of him. It would be

strange, then, if he were to choose not the life of his self but that of something else. And what we said before'

will apply now; that which is proper to each thing is by nature best and most pleasant for each thing; for man,

therefore, the life according to reason is best and pleasantest, since reason more than anything else is man.

But in a secondary degree the life in accordance with the other kind of virtue is happy; for the activities in

accordance with this befit our human estate. Just and brave acts, and other virtuous acts, we do in relation to

each other, observing our respective duties with regard to contracts and services and all manner of actions

and with regard to passions; and all of these seem to be typically human. Some of them seem even to arise

from the body, and virtue of character to be in many ways bound up with the passions. Practical wisdom, too,

is linked to virtue of character, and this to practical wisdom, since the principles of practical wisdom are in

accordance with the moral virtues and rightness in morals is in accordance with practical wisdom. Being

connected with the passions also, the moral virtues must belong to our composite nature; and the virtues of

our composite nature are human; so, therefore, are the life and the happiness which correspond to these. The

excellence of the reason is a thing apart; we must be content to say this much about it, for to describe it

precisely is a task greater than our purpose requires. It would seem, however, also to need external equipment

but little, or less than moral virtue does. Grant that both need the necessaries, and do so equally, even if the

statesman's work is the more concerned with the body and things of that sort; for there will be little difference

there; but in what they need for the exercise of their activities there will be much difference. The liberal man

will need money for the doing of his liberal deeds, and the just man too will need it for the returning of

services (for wishes are hard to discern, and even people who are not just pretend to wish to act justly); and

the brave man will need power if he is to accomplish any of the acts that correspond to his virtue, and the

temperate man will need opportunity; for how else is either he or any of the others to be recognized? It is

debated, too, whether the will or the deed is more essential to virtue, which is assumed to involve both; it is

surely clear that its perfection involves both; but for deeds many things are needed, and more, the greater and

nobler the deeds are. But the man who is contemplating the truth needs no such thing, at least with a view to

the exercise of his activity; indeed they are, one may say, even hindrances, at all events to his contemplation;

but in so far as he is a man and lives with a number of people, he chooses to do virtuous acts; he will

But that perfect happiness is a contemplative activity will appear from the following consideration as well.

We assume the gods to be above all other beings blessed and happy; but what sort of actions must we assign

to them? Acts of justice? Will not the gods seem absurd if they make contracts and return deposits, and so

on? Acts of a brave man, then, confronting dangers and running risks because it is noble to do so? Or liberal

acts? To whom will they give? It will be strange if they are really to have money or anything of the kind. And

what would their temperate acts be? Is not such praise tasteless, since they have no bad appetites? If we were

to run through them all, the circumstances of action would be found trivial and unworthy of gods. Still, every

one supposes that they live and therefore that they are active; we cannot suppose them to sleep like

Endymion. Now if you take away from a living being action, and still more production, what is left but

contemplation? Therefore the activity of God, which surpasses all others in blessedness, must be

contemplative; and of human activities, therefore, that which is most akin to this must be most of the nature

This is indicated, too, by the fact that the other animals have no share in happiness, being completely

deprived of such activity. For while the whole life of the gods is blessed, and that of men too in so far as

some likeness of such activity belongs to them, none of the other animals is happy, since they in no way share

in contemplation. Happiness extends, then, just so far as contemplation does, and those to whom

contemplation more fully belongs are more truly happy, not as a mere concomitant but in virtue of the

contemplation; for this is in itself precious. Happiness, therefore, must be some form of contemplation.

But, being a man, one will also need external prosperity; for our nature is not selfsufficient for the purpose

of contemplation, but our body also must be healthy and must have food and other attention. Still, we must

not think that the man who is to be happy will need many things or great things, merely because he cannot be

supremely happy without external goods; for selfsufficiency and action do not involve excess, and we can

do noble acts without ruling earth and sea; for even with moderate advantages one can act virtuously (this is

manifest enough; for private persons are thought to do worthy acts no less than despotsindeed even more);

and it is enough that we should have so much as that; for the life of the man who is active in accordance with

virtue will be happy. Solon, too, was perhaps sketching well the happy man when he described him as

moderately furnished with externals but as having done (as Solon thought) the noblest acts, and lived

temperately; for one can with but moderate possessions do what one ought. Anaxagoras also seems to have

supposed the happy man not to be rich nor a despot, when he said that he would not be surprised if the happy

man were to seem to most people a strange person; for they judge by externals, since these are all they

perceive. The opinions of the wise seem, then, to harmonize with our arguments. But while even such things

carry some conviction, the truth in practical matters is discerned from the facts of life; for these are the

decisive factor. We must therefore survey what we have already said, bringing it to the test of the facts of life,

and if it harmonizes with the facts we must accept it, but if it clashes with them we must suppose it to be

mere theory. Now he who exercises his reason and cultivates it seems to be both in the best state of mind and

most dear to the gods. For if the gods have any care for human affairs, as they are thought to have, it would

be reasonable both that they should delight in that which was best and most akin to them (i.e. reason) and that

they should reward those who love and honour this most, as caring for the things that are dear to them and

acting both rightly and nobly. And that all these attributes belong most of all to the philosopher is manifest.

He, therefore, is the dearest to the gods. And he who is that will presumably be also the happiest; so that in

If these matters and the virtues, and also friendship and pleasure, have been dealt with sufficiently in outline,

are we to suppose that our programme has reached its end? Surely, as the saying goes, where there are things

to be done the end is not to survey and recognize the various things, but rather to do them; with regard to

virtue, then, it is not enough to know, but we must try to have and use it, or try any other way there may be of

becoming good. Now if arguments were in themselves enough to make men good, they would justly, as

Theognis says, have won very great rewards, and such rewards should have been provided; but as things are,

while they seem to have power to encourage and stimulate the generousminded among our youth, and to

make a character which is gently born, and a true lover of what is noble, ready to be possessed by virtue, they

are not able to encourage the many to nobility and goodness. For these do not by nature obey the sense of

shame, but only fear, and do not abstain from bad acts because of their baseness but through fear of

punishment; living by passion they pursue their own pleasures and the means to them, and and the opposite

pains, and have not even a conception of what is noble and truly pleasant, since they have never tasted it.

What argument would remould such people? It is hard, if not impossible, to remove by argument the traits

that have long since been incorporated in the character; and perhaps we must be content if, when all the

influences by which we are thought to become good are present, we get some tincture of virtue.

Now some think that we are made good by nature, others by habituation, others by teaching. Nature's part

evidently does not depend on us, but as a result of some divine causes is present in those who are truly

fortunate; while argument and teaching, we may suspect, are not powerful with all men, but the soul of the

student must first have been cultivated by means of habits for noble joy and noble hatred, like earth which is

to nourish the seed. For he who lives as passion directs will not hear argument that dissuades him, nor

understand it if he does; and how can we persuade one in such a state to change his ways? And in general

passion seems to yield not to argument but to force. The character, then, must somehow be there already with

But it is difficult to get from youth up a right training for virtue if one has not been brought up under right

laws; for to live temperately and hardily is not pleasant to most people, especially when they are young. For

this reason their nurture and occupations should be fixed by law; for they will not be painful when they have

become customary. But it is surely not enough that when they are young they should get the right nurture and

attention; since they must, even when they are grown up, practise and be habituated to them, we shall need

laws for this as well, and generally speaking to cover the whole of life; for most people obey necessity rather

This is why some think that legislators ought to stimulate men to virtue and urge them forward by the motive

of the noble, on the assumption that those who have been well advanced by the formation of habits will

attend to such influences; and that punishments and penalties should be imposed on those who disobey and

are of inferior nature, while the incurably bad should be completely banished. A good man (they think), since

he lives with his mind fixed on what is noble, will submit to argument, while a bad man, whose desire is for

pleasure, is corrected by pain like a beast of burden. This is, too, why they say the pains inflicted should be

However that may be, if (as we have said) the man who is to be good must be well trained and habituated,

and go on to spend his time in worthy occupations and neither willingly nor unwillingly do bad actions, and if

this can be brought about if men live in accordance with a sort of reason and right order, provided this has

force,if this be so, the paternal command indeed has not the required force or compulsive power (nor in

general has the command of one man, unless he be a king or something similar), but the law has compulsive

power, while it is at the same time a rule proceeding from a sort of practical wisdom and reason. And while

people hate men who oppose their impulses, even if they oppose them rightly, the law in its ordaining of what

In the Spartan state alone, or almost alone, the legislator seems to have paid attention to questions of nurture

and occupations; in most states such matters have been neglected, and each man lives as he pleases,

Cyclopsfashion, 'to his own wife and children dealing law'. Now it is best that there should be a public and

proper care for such matters; but if they are neglected by the community it would seem right for each man to

help his children and friends towards virtue, and that they should have the power, or at least the will, to do

It would seem from what has been said that he can do this better if he makes himself capable of legislating.

For public control is plainly effected by laws, and good control by good laws; whether written or unwritten

would seem to make no difference, nor whether they are laws providing for the education of individuals or of

groupsany more than it does in the case of music or gymnastics and other such pursuits. For as in cities laws

and prevailing types of character have force, so in households do the injunctions and the habits of the father,

and these have even more because of the tie of blood and the benefits he confers; for the children start with a

natural affection and disposition to obey. Further, private education has an advantage over public, as private

medical treatment has; for while in general rest and abstinence from food are good for a man in a fever, for a

particular man they may not be; and a boxer presumably does not prescribe the same style of fighting to all

his pupils. It would seem, then, that the detail is worked out with more precision if the control is private; for

But the details can be best looked after, one by one, by a doctor or gymnastic instructor or any one else who

has the general knowledge of what is good for every one or for people of a certain kind (for the sciences both

are said to be, and are, concerned with what is universal); not but what some particular detail may perhaps be

well looked after by an unscientific person, if he has studied accurately in the light of experience what

happens in each case, just as some people seem to be their own best doctors, though they could give no help

to any one else. None the less, it will perhaps be agreed that if a man does wish to become master of an art or

science he must go to the universal, and come to know it as well as possible; for, as we have said, it is with

And surely he who wants to make men, whether many or few, better by his care must try to become capable

of legislating, if it is through laws that we can become good. For to get any one whateverany one who is put

before usinto the right condition is not for the first chance comer; if any one can do it, it is the man who

knows, just as in medicine and all other matters which give scope for care and prudence.

Must we not, then, next examine whence or how one can learn how to legislate? Is it, as in all other cases,

from statesmen? Certainly it was thought to be a part of statesmanship. Or is a difference apparent between

statesmanship and the other sciences and arts? In the others the same people are found offering to teach the

arts and practising them, e.g. doctors or painters; but while the sophists profess to teach politics, it is practised

not by any of them but by the politicians, who would seem to do so by dint of a certain skill and experience

rather than of thought; for they are not found either writing or speaking about such matters (though it were a

nobler occupation perhaps than composing speeches for the lawcourts and the assembly), nor again are they

found to have made statesmen of their own sons or any other of their friends. But it was to be expected that

they should if they could; for there is nothing better than such a skill that they could have left to their cities,

or could prefer to have for themselves, or, therefore, for those dearest to them. Still, experience seems to

contribute not a little; else they could not have become politicians by familiarity with politics; and so it seems

that those who aim at knowing about the art of politics need experience as well.

But those of the sophists who profess the art seem to be very far from teaching it. For, to put the matter

generally, they do not even know what kind of thing it is nor what kinds of things it is about; otherwise they

would not have classed it as identical with rhetoric or even inferior to it, nor have thought it easy to legislate

by collecting the laws that are thought well of; they say it is possible to select the best laws, as though even

the selection did not demand intelligence and as though right judgement were not the greatest thing, as in

matters of music. For while people experienced in any department judge rightly the works produced in it, and

understand by what means or how they are achieved, and what harmonizes with what, the inexperienced must

be content if they do not fail to see whether the work has been well or ill madeas in the case of painting.

Now laws are as it were the' works' of the political art; how then can one learn from them to be a legislator, or

judge which are best? Even medical men do not seem to be made by a study of textbooks. Yet people try, at

any rate, to state not only the treatments, but also how particular classes of people can be cured and should be

treateddistinguishing the various habits of body; but while this seems useful to experienced people, to the

inexperienced it is valueless. Surely, then, while collections of laws, and of constitutions also, may be

serviceable to those who can study them and judge what is good or bad and what enactments suit what

circumstances, those who go through such collections without a practised faculty will not have right

judgement (unless it be as a spontaneous gift of nature), though they may perhaps become more intelligent in

Now our predecessors have left the subject of legislation to us unexamined; it is perhaps best, therefore, that

we should ourselves study it, and in general study the question of the constitution, in order to complete to the

best of our ability our philosophy of human nature. First, then, if anything has been said well in detail by

earlier thinkers, let us try to review it; then in the light of the constitutions we have collected let us study what

sorts of influence preserve and destroy states, and what sorts preserve or destroy the particular kinds of

constitution, and to what causes it is due that some are well and others ill administered. When these have

been studied we shall perhaps be more likely to see with a comprehensive view, which constitution is best,

and how each must be ordered, and what laws and customs it must use, if it is to be at its best. Let us make a