Book 1

Book 1

37 min

Chapter I.

Chapter 1

Every art, and every science reduced to a teachable form, and in like manner every action and moral choice, aims, it is thought, at some good: for which reason a common and by no means a bad description of the Chief Good is, “that which all things aim at.”

Every art and every science organized for teaching is thought to aim at some good. The same is thought of every action and moral choice. So a common, and not at all bad, description of the Chief Good is “what all things aim at.”

Now there plainly is a difference in the Ends proposed: for in some cases they are acts of working, and in others certain works or tangible results beyond and beside the acts of working: and where there are certain Ends beyond and beside the actions, the works are in their nature better than the acts of working. Again, since actions and arts and sciences are many, the Ends likewise come to be many: of the healing art, for instance, health; of the ship-building art, a vessel; of the military art, victory; and of domestic management, wealth; are respectively the Ends.

There is clearly a difference between the goals we pursue. In some cases, the goal is the activity itself. In others, it is a product or tangible result beyond the activity. Where the goal is a result beyond the action, the result is by nature better than the activity. Again, since there are many actions, arts, and sciences, there are also many goals. For example, the goal of medicine is health, and the goal of shipbuilding is a ship. The goal of military strategy is victory, and the goal of household management is wealth.

And whatever of such actions, arts, or sciences range under some one faculty (as under that of horsemanship the art of making bridles, and all that are connected with the manufacture of horse-furniture in general; this itself again, and every action connected with war, under the military art; and in the same way others under others), in all such, the Ends of the master-arts are more choice-worthy than those ranging under them, because it is with a view to the former that the latter are pursued.

Some actions, arts, or sciences fall under a single broader skill. For example, bridle-making and all the crafts involved in making equipment for horses fall under horsemanship. Horsemanship itself, along with every action connected with war, falls under the military art. Other activities fall under other broader skills in the same way. In all such cases, the goals of the higher arts are more desirable than those of the subordinate arts. This is because the subordinate arts are pursued for the sake of the goals of the higher arts.

(And in this comparison it makes no difference whether the acts of working are themselves the Ends of the actions, or something further beside them, as is the case in the arts and sciences we have been just speaking of.)

(And for this comparison, it makes no difference whether the goals are the activities themselves or something beyond them. The arts and sciences we have just discussed have goals beyond the activities themselves.)

Since then of all things which may be done there is some one End which we desire for its own sake, and with a view to which we desire everything else; and since we do not choose in all instances with a further End in view (for then men would go on without limit, and so the desire would be unsatisfied and fruitless), this plainly must be the Chief Good, i.e. the best thing of all.

Among all the things we can do, there is one goal we desire for its own sake. We desire everything else for the sake of that goal. And we do not always make choices for the sake of some further goal. Otherwise, we would go on endlessly, and our desire would remain unsatisfied and fruitless. So the goal we desire for its own sake must clearly be the Chief Good, that is, the best thing of all.

Surely then, even with reference to actual life and conduct, the knowledge of it must have great weight; and like archers, with a mark in view, we shall be more likely to hit upon what is right: and if so, we ought to try to describe, in outline at least, what it is and of which of the sciences and faculties it is the End.

Surely, then, knowing it must matter greatly, even for everyday life and conduct. Like archers aiming at a target, we will be more likely to hit on what is right. If so, we should try to describe what it is, at least in outline. We should also identify which sciences and skills have it as their goal.

Now one would naturally suppose it to be the End of that which is most commanding and most inclusive: and to this description, πολιτικὴ plainly answers: for this it is that determines which of the sciences should be in the communities, and which kind individuals are to learn, and what degree of proficiency is to be required. Again; we see also ranging under this the most highly esteemed faculties, such as the art military, and that of domestic management, and Rhetoric. Well then, since this uses all the other practical sciences, and moreover lays down rules as to what men are to do, and from what to abstain, the End of this must include the Ends of the rest, and so must be The Good of Man. And grant that this is the same to the individual and to the community, yet surely that of the latter is plainly greater and more perfect to discover and preserve: for to do this even for a single individual were a matter for contentment; but to do it for a whole nation, and for communities generally, were more noble and godlike.

We would naturally suppose this to be the goal of the most authoritative and comprehensive discipline. Clearly, πολιτικὴ (political science) fits this description. Political science determines which sciences communities should study, which subjects individuals should learn, and how proficient they must become. We also see that the most highly valued disciplines fall under political science, including military strategy, household management, and rhetoric. Since political science uses all the other practical sciences, it also sets rules about what people should do and avoid. Its goal must therefore include the goals of all the others, and so must be The Good for humanity. Even if this good is the same for an individual and a community, a community’s good is clearly greater. Discovering and preserving that good for a community is also more complete. Achieving this even for one individual would be cause for satisfaction. But achieving it for a whole nation, and for communities generally, would be nobler and more godlike.

Our language has no equivalent for this term as used here, except an awkward paraphrase. The term has three meanings in this treatise. The first, used here, is its strict etymological meaning, “The science of Society,”. This science includes everything that can affect human well-being in social life: “Quicquid agunt homines nostri est farrago libelli.” In this sense, the science rightly ranks as the most authoritative and comprehensive. The second meaning, used just below, is “Moral Philosophy.” Aristotle explains this meaning in the Rhetoric (1 2) [Greek: hae peri ta aethae pragmateia aen dikaion esti prosagoreuen politikaen]. In this treatise, his main concern is the moral training of the individual. This is the branch of the Science of Society that we call Ethics Proper. Ethics Proper relates to the broader science as cutting and squaring stones relates to building the Temple. The relationship is also like that of a recruit’s drill to battlefield manoeuvres. Greek Philosophy viewed people mainly as members of a [Greek: polis]. It considered membership in the polis each person’s true purpose. It also saw the polis as the setting where individuals reached their highest and most complete development. The third meaning is “The detail of Civil Government,”. Aristotle explicitly states (vi. 8) that this was the term’s most common meaning.

Such then are the objects proposed by our treatise, which is of the nature of πολιτικὴ: and I conceive I shall have spoken on them satisfactorily, if they be made as distinctly clear as the nature of the subject-matter will admit: for exactness must not be looked for in all discussions alike, any more than in all works of handicraft. Now the notions of nobleness and justice, with the examination of which πολιτικὴ is concerned, admit of variation and error to such a degree, that they are supposed by some to exist conventionally only, and not in the nature of things: but then, again, the things which are allowed to be goods admit of a similar error, because harm comes to many from them: for before now some have perished through wealth, and others through valour.

These, then, are the aims of our study, which belongs to πολιτικὴ, the study of politics. I believe I will have discussed these subjects satisfactorily if I make them as clear as their nature allows. For we should not expect the same precision in all discussions, any more than in all kinds of craftsmanship. Now, ideas of nobility and justice, which πολιτικὴ examines, are subject to much variation and uncertainty. Some therefore think nobility and justice exist only by convention, not by nature. But things recognized as good are also subject to similar uncertainty, because these goods cause harm to many people. For some people have died because of their wealth, and others because of their courage.

We must be content then, in speaking of such things and from such data, to set forth the truth roughly and in outline; in other words, since we are speaking of general matter and from general data, to draw also conclusions merely general. And in the same spirit should each person receive what we say: for the man of education will seek exactness so far in each subject as the nature of the thing admits, it being plainly much the same absurdity to put up with a mathematician who tries to persuade instead of proving, and to demand strict demonstrative reasoning of a Rhetorician.

When discussing such subjects using such evidence, we must be content to present the truth roughly and in outline. In other words, since our subject and evidence are general, our conclusions must also be general. Everyone should receive what we say in the same spirit. An educated person seeks only as much precision in each subject as its nature allows. Clearly, accepting a mathematician who offers persuasion instead of proof is absurd. Demanding strict logical proof from a public speaker is equally absurd.

Now each man judges well what he knows, and of these things he is a good judge: on each particular matter then he is a good judge who has been instructed in it, and in a general way the man of general mental cultivation.

Each person judges well what they know and is a good judge of those things. So, on any particular subject, a good judge is someone who has been educated in it. In general, a good judge is someone with a broad education.

Matters requiring judgment either fall within a specific art or science, or they do not. In the first case, the best judge is someone with thorough knowledge of that art or science. In the second, the best judge is someone whose abilities have been developed and matured through education. You would show a lame horse to a farmer, not to the best and wisest person you know. But you would turn to that wise person for advice on a difficult question of conduct. Experience is needed for the first kind of judgment, self-control for the second.

Hence the young man is not a fit student of Moral Philosophy, for he has no experience in the actions of life, while all that is said presupposes and is concerned with these: and in the next place, since he is apt to follow the impulses of his passions, he will hear as though he heard not, and to no profit, the end in view being practice and not mere knowledge.

So a young man is not a suitable student of moral philosophy, because he lacks experience in everyday actions. Everything taught in moral philosophy assumes such experience and concerns those actions. Moreover, because he tends to follow his emotional impulses, he will listen as if he had heard nothing. He will gain no benefit, because the goal is action, not mere knowledge.

And I draw no distinction between young in years, and youthful in temper and disposition: the defect to which I allude being no direct result of the time, but of living at the beck and call of passion, and following each object as it rises. For to them that are such the knowledge comes to be unprofitable, as to those of imperfect self-control: but, to those who form their desires and act in accordance with reason, to have knowledge on these points must be very profitable.

And I make no distinction between being young in years and being youthful in temperament and character. The flaw I mean does not come directly from age. Rather, it comes from living at the mercy of passion and pursuing each new desire as it arises. For people who live this way, knowledge is useless, just as it is for people who lack self-control. But for those who shape their desires and act according to reason, knowledge of these matters must be very useful.

The last chapter of Book Three of this treatise says the fool’s desire for pleasure is not only insatiable. He also seeks pleasure indiscriminately, πανταχόθεν.

Let thus much suffice by way of preface on these three points, the student, the spirit in which our observations should be received, and the object which we propose.

That is enough introduction to these three points: the student, how our observations should be received, and our intended aim.

Chapter II.

Chapter 2

And now, resuming the statement with which we commenced, since all knowledge and moral choice grasps at good of some kind or another, what good is that which we say πολιτικὴ aims at? or, in other words, what is the highest of all the goods which are the objects of action?

Let us now return to our starting point. All knowledge and moral choice aim at some kind of good. So what good do we say political science aims at? In other words, what is the highest of all the goods we can pursue through action?

So far as name goes, there is a pretty general agreement: for HAPPINESS both the multitude and the refined few call it, and “living well” and “doing well” they conceive to be the same with “being happy;” but about the Nature of this Happiness, men dispute, and the multitude do not in their account of it agree with the wise. For some say it is some one of those things which are palpable and apparent, as pleasure or wealth or honour; in fact, some one thing, some another; nay, oftentimes the same man gives a different account of it; for when ill, he calls it health; when poor, wealth: and conscious of their own ignorance, men admire those who talk grandly and above their comprehension. Some again held it to be something by itself, other than and beside these many good things, which is in fact to all these the cause of their being good.

There is fairly broad agreement about the name: both ordinary people and the educated few call it HAPPINESS. They see “living well” and “doing well” as the same as “being happy.” But people disagree about what happiness is, and ordinary people do not explain it as the wise do. For some say happiness is something obvious and tangible, such as pleasure, wealth, or honour. Different people name different things. In fact, the same person often gives different answers. When sick, he calls happiness health. When poor, he calls it wealth. And people who recognize their own ignorance admire those who speak grandly about things beyond their understanding. Some, however, have held that happiness is something in its own right, separate from and beyond these many good things. In their view, happiness is what makes all these things good.

Now to sift all the opinions would be perhaps rather a fruitless task; so it shall suffice to sift those which are most generally current, or are thought to have some reason in them.

Now, examining all the opinions would perhaps be rather pointless. So we need only examine the most widely held opinions, or those thought to have some reasonable basis.

And here we must not forget the difference between reasoning from principles, and reasoning to principles: for with good cause did Plato too doubt about this, and enquire whether the right road is from principles or to principles, just as in the racecourse from the judges to the further end, or vice versâ.

Here we must remember the difference between reasoning from principles and reasoning toward principles: Plato too had good reason to question which direction was right. He asked whether the right path leads from principles or toward them. It is like asking whether to run from the judges to the far end of the racecourse, or the reverse.

Ἀρχὴ has several meanings in this treatise. Its primary meaning is “beginning or first cause,” and this sense runs through all its uses. The term also means “Rule,” and sometimes “Rulers,” because taking the initiative is a feature of Rule. “Principle” is a very common meaning, and the most characteristic in the Ethics. The word Principle means “starting-point.” Every action has two beginnings: the beginning of Resolve (οὗ ἕνεκα) and the beginning of Action (ὅθεν ἡ κινήσις). I desire praise from others, and this desire is the beginning of Resolve. After considering how to gain praise, I decide on a course of action. This Resolve is the beginning of Action. The beginnings of Resolve, Ἀρχὶ or Motives, become major premises when stated formally. These premises form part of what Aristotle calls the συλλογίσμοι τῶν πρακτῶν, the reasoning into which actions can be analyzed. Thus, we say that the desire for human praise was the Pharisees’ motive, or the principle on which they acted. Their practical syllogism would therefore be:

> Whatever gains human praise should be done. Public prayer and almsgiving gained human praise. [ergo] Public prayer and almsgiving should be done.

These major premises may be stored in the mind as rules for action. This is what people commonly mean by having good or bad principles.

Of course, we must begin with what is known; but then this is of two kinds, what we do know, and what we may know: perhaps then as individuals we must begin with what we do know. Hence the necessity that he should have been well trained in habits, who is to study, with any tolerable chance of profit, the principles of nobleness and justice and moral philosophy generally. For a principle is a matter of fact, and if the fact is sufficiently clear to a man there will be no need in addition of the reason for the fact. And he that has been thus trained either has principles already, or can receive them easily: as for him who neither has nor can receive them, let him hear his sentence from Hesiod:

Of course, we must begin with what is known. But there are two kinds: what we do know, and what we may know: perhaps, then, as individuals, we must begin with what we do know. So anyone studying the principles of nobility, justice, and moral philosophy generally must first have developed good habits. Without that training, they have no reasonable chance of benefiting from their studies. For a starting principle is a matter of fact. If the fact is clear enough to someone, they will not also need the reason for it. And someone trained in good habits either already has these principles or can easily learn them. As for anyone who neither has these principles nor can learn them, let them hear Hesiod's judgment:

The difficulty here is deciding what [Greek: gnorima aemin] and [Greek: gnorima aplos] mean. I have translated them without considering their use elsewhere, as meaning what is and what may be known, respectively. All truth is [Greek: gnorimon aplos]. But only truth we individually recognize is [Greek: aemin]. Therefore, only principles we have received as true are [Greek: gnorima aemin]. This immediately shows why good training must prepare us for studying Moral Philosophy. Good training in habits either makes principles part of our nature or prepares us to accept them when presented. Intellectual training alone cannot do this.

A child accustomed to obeying his parents may never have heard the fifth Commandment. Yet the Commandment is woven into his nature. When he first hears it, he will recognize it as morally true and right. For him, the principle is a fact. He is as little inclined to ask why it is true as anyone could prove its truth if he asked.

But elsewhere (Analytica Post I cap. 11. sect. 10), these terms mean particulars and universals, respectively. Universals receive this description because principles or laws must be understood to exist before examples of their operation. Justice must have existed before just actions, Redness before red things. But we encounter concrete examples, from which we gather principles and laws. Particulars are therefore called [Greek: gnorimotera aemin]. This interpretation gives the whole passage greater unity. The passage would then read as follows. The question is whether we should assume principles or reach them by analyzing facts. Aristotle says, “We must begin of course with what is known but then this term denotes either particulars or universals perhaps we then must begin with particulars and hence the necessity of a previous good training in habits, etc. (which of course is beginning with particular facts), for a fact is a starting point, and if this be sufficiently clear, there will be no want of the reason for the fact in addition” The objection to this translation is that [Greek: archai] appears immediately afterward in the sense of “principles.”

> Utere tuo judicio nihil enim impedio.

He is best of all who of himself conceiveth all things; Good again is he too who can adopt a good suggestion; But whoso neither of himself conceiveth nor hearing from another Layeth it to heart;—he is a useless man.

The best man is one who understands all things on his own. A good man is also one who can follow good advice. But a man who neither understands on his own nor takes advice from others To heart is a useless man.

Chapter III.

Chapter 3

But to return from this digression.

But let's return to the main point.

Now of the Chief Good (i.e. of Happiness) men seem to form their notions from the different modes of life, as we might naturally expect: the many and most low conceive it to be pleasure, and hence they are content with the life of sensual enjoyment. For there are three lines of life which stand out prominently to view: that just mentioned, and the life in society, and, thirdly, the life of contemplation.

People seem to base their ideas of the highest good (that is, happiness) on different ways of life. This is what we would naturally expect. Most people, and those of the lowest sort, think happiness is pleasure. So they are content with a life of sensual enjoyment. Three ways of life stand out: the life of sensual enjoyment, life in society, and, thirdly, the contemplative life.

Now the many are plainly quite slavish, choosing a life like that of brute animals: yet they obtain some consideration, because many of the great share the tastes of Sardanapalus. The refined and active again conceive it to be honour: for this may be said to be the end of the life in society: yet it is plainly too superficial for the object of our search, because it is thought to rest with those who pay rather than with him who receives it, whereas the Chief Good we feel instinctively must be something which is our own, and not easily to be taken from us.

Most people are clearly quite servile, choosing a life like that of brute animals. Yet their choice deserves some consideration, because many powerful people share the tastes of Sardanapalus. Refined and active people, on the other hand, see honour as the highest good. For honour may be called the goal of life in society. Yet honour is clearly too superficial to be the good we are seeking. For honour is thought to depend on those who give it rather than on the person who receives it. By contrast, we instinctively feel that the Chief Good must be something of our own, not easily taken from us.

And besides, men seem to pursue honour, that they may believe themselves to be good: for instance, they seek to be honoured by the wise, and by those among whom they are known, and for virtue: clearly then, in the opinion at least of these men, virtue is higher than honour. In truth, one would be much more inclined to think this to be the end of the life in society; yet this itself is plainly not sufficiently final: for it is conceived possible, that a man possessed of virtue might sleep or be inactive all through his life, or, as a third case, suffer the greatest evils and misfortunes: and the man who should live thus no one would call happy, except for mere disputation’s sake.

Besides, people seem to pursue honour so they can believe themselves to be good. For example, they seek honour from the wise and from those who know them, and seek it for their virtue. Clearly, then, at least in these people’s view, virtue ranks higher than honour. Indeed, one would be much more inclined to see virtue as the goal of life in society. Yet even virtue is clearly not enough as an ultimate goal. For someone could possess virtue but sleep or remain inactive throughout life. Or, as a third possibility, someone with virtue could suffer the greatest evils and misfortunes. No one would call a person living such a life happy, except merely for the sake of argument.

Or “prove themselves good,” as in the Prior Analytics, ii 25, [Greek: apanta pisteuomen k.t l]. But the alternative translation is supported by a passage in Book VIII. chap. ix. [Greek: oi d’ upo ton epieikon kai eidoton oregomenoi timaes bebaiosai ten oikeian doxan ephientai peri auton chairousi de oti eisin agathoi, pisteuontes te ton legonton krisei]

[Greek: thesis] originally meant a paradoxical statement by a philosopher with enough standing to risk making one. But the term later came to mean any dialectical question. Topics, I. chap. ix.

And for these let thus much suffice, for they have been treated of at sufficient length in my Encyclia.

Let that be enough on these matters, since I have discussed them at sufficient length in my Encyclia.

A lost work, thought to have been given that title because it contained questions on various topics.

A third line of life is that of contemplation, concerning which we shall make our examination in the following pages.

A third way of life is contemplation. We will examine contemplation in the following pages.

Only at the very end of the treatise does Aristotle refer to this. He acknowledges that [Greek: theoria] is the highest happiness because it exercises the highest human faculty. He delays this statement because [Greek: theoria] cannot occur until the lower nature, the moral nature, is in perfect order. Yet if he had presented it from the start, people would have tried it immediately, without the trouble of self-discipline.

As for the life of money-making, it is one of constraint, and wealth manifestly is not the good we are seeking, because it is for use, that is, for the sake of something further: and hence one would rather conceive the forementioned ends to be the right ones, for men rest content with them for their own sakes. Yet, clearly, they are not the objects of our search either, though many words have been wasted on them. So much then for these.

A life devoted to making money is a life of constraint. Wealth is clearly not the good we are seeking, because wealth is useful only for obtaining something else. So the goals mentioned earlier might seem more likely to be the right ones. People are content with those goals for their own sake. Yet clearly, those goals are not what we are looking for either, though many words have been wasted on them. Enough, then, about these goals.

Or, as some think, “many theories have been founded on them.”

Again, the notion of one Universal Good (the same, that is, in all things), it is better perhaps we should examine, and discuss the meaning of it, though such an enquiry is unpleasant, because they are friends of ours who have introduced these εἴδη. Still perhaps it may appear better, nay to be our duty where the safety of the truth is concerned, to upset if need be even our own theories, specially as we are lovers of wisdom: for since both are dear to us, we are bound to prefer the truth. Now they who invented this doctrine of εἴδη, did not apply it to those things in which they spoke of priority and posteriority, and so they never made any ἰδέα of numbers; but good is predicated in the categories of Substance, Quality, and Relation; now that which exists of itself, i.e. Substance, is prior in the nature of things to that which is relative, because this latter is an off-shoot, as it were, and result of that which is; on their own principle then there cannot be a common ἰδέα in the case of these.

Again, perhaps we should examine the idea of one Universal Good, the same in all things, and discuss its meaning. Such an inquiry is unpleasant because the people who introduced these εἴδη are our friends. Still, perhaps it is better, indeed our duty, to overturn even our own theories if necessary to protect the truth. This is especially so because we are lovers of wisdom. For although both our friends and the truth are dear to us, we must prefer the truth. Now, the founders of the doctrine of εἴδη did not apply it to things they described as prior and later. So they never proposed any ἰδέα of numbers. But good is applied in the categories of Substance, Quality, and Relation. Now, what exists in its own right, that is, Substance, is by nature prior to what is relative. For what is relative is, so to speak, an offshoot and result of what exists. On their own principle, then, there cannot be a common ἰδέα for these categories.

The ἰδέα is the original model. The εἶδος is the concrete form that resembles the model. So Aristotle refers to the theory by both names, which is why the Greek terms are retained.

In the next place, since good is predicated in as many ways as there are modes of existence [for it is predicated in the category of Substance, as God, Intellect—and in that of Quality, as The Virtues—and in that of Quantity, as The Mean—and in that of Relation, as The Useful—and in that of Time, as Opportunity—and in that of Place, as Abode; and other such like things], it manifestly cannot be something common and universal and one in all: else it would not have been predicated in all the categories, but in one only.

Next, good is described in as many ways as there are categories of existence. [In the category of Substance, examples are God and Intellect. In Quality, the example is The Virtues. In Quantity, it is The Mean. In Relation, it is The Useful. In Time, it is Opportunity. In Place, it is Abode. There are other examples of the same kind.] So good clearly cannot be one universal thing common to all categories. If good were such a thing, good would apply in only one category, not in all categories.

Thirdly, since those things which range under one ἰδέα are also under the cognisance of one science, there would have been, on their theory, only one science taking cognisance of all goods collectively: but in fact there are many even for those which range under one category: for instance, of Opportunity or Seasonableness (which I have before mentioned as being in the category of Time), the science is, in war, generalship; in disease, medical science; and of the Mean (which I quoted before as being in the category of Quantity), in food, the medical science; and in labour or exercise, the gymnastic science. A person might fairly doubt also what in the world they mean by very-this that or the other, since, as they would themselves allow, the account of the humanity is one and the same in the very-Man, and in any individual Man: for so far as the individual and the very-Man are both Man, they will not differ at all: and if so, then very-good and any particular good will not differ, in so far as both are good. Nor will it do to say, that the eternity of the very-good makes it to be more good; for what has lasted white ever so long, is no whiter than what lasts but for a day.

Thirdly, everything falling under one ἰδέα, or Form, is studied by one science. So, on their theory, there would be only one science studying all goods together. But in fact, there are many sciences, even for goods within a single category. Take Opportunity or Seasonableness, which I mentioned earlier as belonging to the category of Time. In war, the science of the right moment is generalship. In disease, it is medicine. Similarly, I mentioned the Mean as belonging to the category of Quantity. In food, the science of the right amount is medicine. In work or exercise, it is gymnastics. One might also reasonably wonder what on earth they mean by the very-this or very-that. They themselves would agree that the definition of humanity is the same in the very-Man and in any individual Man. Insofar as both are Man, the individual and the very-Man will not differ at all. If so, the very-good and any particular good will not differ insofar as both are good. Nor will it help to say that the very-good is better because it is eternal. Something that has been white for any length of time is no whiter than something white for just one day.

No. The Pythagoreans do seem to give a more credible account of the matter, who place “One” among the goods in their double list of goods and bads: which philosophers, in fact, Speusippus seems to have followed.

No. The Pythagoreans do seem to offer a more credible account of the matter. They place “One” among the goods in their double list of goods and bads: In fact, Speusippus seems to have followed the Pythagoreans.

The list was as follows:

``` [Greek: to peras to apeiron | to euthu to perisson to artion | to phos to en to plethos | to tetragonon to dexion to aristeron | to aeremoun to arren to thelu | to agathon ]

```

The son of Plato’s sister.

But of these matters let us speak at some other time. Now there is plainly a loophole to object to what has been advanced, on the plea that the theory I have attacked is not by its advocates applied to all good: but those goods only are spoken of as being under one ἰδέα, which are pursued, and with which men rest content simply for their own sakes: whereas those things which have a tendency to produce or preserve them in any way, or to hinder their contraries, are called good because of these other goods, and after another fashion. It is manifest then that the goods may be so called in two senses, the one class for their own sakes, the other because of these.

But let us discuss these matters another time. Now there is clearly room to object to the argument I have made. Supporters of the theory I have criticized do not apply it to all good things. They say only certain goods fall under a single ἰδέα, or form. These are goods people pursue and are content with simply for their own sake. Other things tend to produce or preserve these goods in some way, or prevent their opposites. These other things are called good because of the goods sought for their own sake, and in a different sense. Clearly, then, things may be called good in two senses. Some are good for their own sake, while others are good because of those goods.

Very well then, let us separate the independent goods from the instrumental, and see whether they are spoken of as under one ἰδέα. But the question next arises, what kind of goods are we to call independent? All such as are pursued even when separated from other goods, as, for instance, being wise, seeing, and certain pleasures and honours (for these, though we do pursue them with some further end in view, one would still place among the independent goods)? or does it come in fact to this, that we can call nothing independent good except the ἰδέα, and so the concrete of it will be nought?

Very well, then, let us separate goods valued for themselves from goods valued as means to something else. Let us see whether both groups fall under one ἰδέα. But the next question is, what goods should we call good in themselves? All goods pursued even apart from other goods, such as wisdom, sight, and certain pleasures and honours? (For although we pursue these goods with some further goal in mind, we would still count them as good in themselves.) Or is the ἰδέα actually the only thing we can call good in itself? If so, will there be no concrete instances of it?

If, on the other hand, these are independent goods, then we shall require that the account of the goodness be the same clearly in all, just as that of the whiteness is in snow and white lead. But how stands the fact? Why of honour and wisdom and pleasure the accounts are distinct and different in so far as they are good. The Chief Good then is not something common, and after one ἰδέα.

If, on the other hand, these are independent goods, goodness must clearly have the same definition in all of them. Just as whiteness has the same definition in snow and white lead. But is that actually the case? Honour, wisdom, and pleasure have distinct and different definitions of what makes them good. So the Chief Good is not something common to all, corresponding to a single form (ἰδέα).

But then, how does the name come to be common (for it is not seemingly a case of fortuitous equivocation)? Are different individual things called good by virtue of being from one source, or all conducing to one end, or rather by way of analogy, for that intellect is to the soul as sight to the body, and so on? However, perhaps we ought to leave these questions now, for an accurate investigation of them is more properly the business of a different philosophy. And likewise respecting the ἰδέα: for even if there is some one good predicated in common of all things that are good, or separable and capable of existing independently, manifestly it cannot be the object of human action or attainable by Man; but we are in search now of something that is so.

But then, why do different things share the name “good”? (This does not seem to be a chance use of the same word for different meanings.) Are individual things called good because they come from one source, or because they all lead to one end? Or is the name shared by analogy, because intellect relates to the soul as sight relates to the body, and so on? However, perhaps we should leave these questions for now. A thorough investigation of them belongs more properly to another branch of philosophy. The same applies to the ἰδέα, or Form. Even if all good things share a single good, or some good exists separately and independently, the point is clear. Such a good cannot be a goal of human action or something humans can attain. But we are now looking for a good that humans can act toward and attain.

This is the main flaw in Aristotle’s eyes. As a deeply practical thinker, he could not approve of a theory that did not necessarily lead to action. Worse, the theory tended to discourage action by letting people with no practical grounding speak impressively. If true, the theory merely states facts and leads to no action.

It may readily occur to any one, that it would be better to attain a knowledge of it with a view to such concrete goods as are attainable and practical, because, with this as a kind of model in our hands, we shall the better know what things are good for us individually, and when we know them, we shall attain them.

Anyone might readily think it would be better to understand it with practical, attainable goods in mind. For we could use this knowledge as a kind of model to better recognize what is good for each of us. And once we know what those goods are, we will attain them.

Some plausibility, it is true, this argument possesses, but it is contradicted by the facts of the Arts and Sciences; for all these, though aiming at some good, and seeking that which is deficient, yet pretermit the knowledge of it: now it is not exactly probable that all artisans without exception should be ignorant of so great a help as this would be, and not even look after it; neither is it easy to see wherein a weaver or a carpenter will be profited in respect of his craft by knowing the very-good, or how a man will be the more apt to effect cures or to command an army for having seen the ἰδέα itself. For manifestly it is not health after this general and abstract fashion which is the subject of the physician’s investigation, but the health of Man, or rather perhaps of this or that man; for he has to heal individuals.—Thus much on these points.

This argument does have some plausibility, but the facts of the arts and sciences contradict it. All these disciplines aim at some good and seek what they lack, yet they ignore knowledge of the good itself. Now, such knowledge would be a great help. It is unlikely that all practitioners without exception would be unaware of that help and not even seek it. Nor is it easy to see how knowing the good itself would help a weaver or carpenter in their craft. Or how would seeing the Form itself make someone better at curing patients or commanding an army? Clearly, a doctor does not study health in this general, abstract sense. Instead, a doctor studies human health, or perhaps more precisely, the health of this or that person. For a doctor must heal individuals. That is enough on these points.

Chapter IV.

Chapter 4

And now let us revert to the Good of which we are in search: what can it be? for manifestly it is different in different actions and arts: for it is different in the healing art and in the art military, and similarly in the rest. What then is the Chief Good in each? Is it not “that for the sake of which the other things are done?” and this in the healing art is health, and in the art military victory, and in that of house-building a house, and in any other thing something else; in short, in every action and moral choice the End, because in all cases men do everything else with a view to this. So that if there is some one End of all things which are and may be done, this must be the Good proposed by doing, or if more than one, then these.

Now let us return to the Good we are seeking. What can it be? Clearly, the Good differs across actions and fields of skill. It differs in medicine and warfare, and likewise in other fields. What, then, is the Chief Good in each? Is it not “the goal for which everything else is done?” In medicine, the goal is health. In warfare, it is victory. In house-building, it is a house, and in other fields, something else. In short, the Good in every action and moral choice is the goal. For in all cases, people do everything else with that goal in view. So if everything we do or can do has one goal, that goal must be the Good achievable through action. Or if there is more than one such goal, those goals must be the Good.

Thus our discussion after some traversing about has come to the same point which we reached before. And this we must try yet more to clear up.

So, after taking a roundabout route, our discussion has returned to the point we reached before. We must try to make this point even clearer.

Now since the ends are plainly many, and of these we choose some with a view to others (wealth, for instance, musical instruments, and, in general, all instruments), it is clear that all are not final: but the Chief Good is manifestly something final; and so, if there is some one only which is final, this must be the object of our search: but if several, then the most final of them will be it.

Clearly, there are many goals, and we choose some for the sake of others. Examples include wealth, musical instruments, and tools in general. So not all goals are final goals. But the Chief Good is clearly a final goal. So if only one goal is final, that must be the goal we are looking for. But if several goals are final, we are looking for the most final of them.

Now that which is an object of pursuit in itself we call more final than that which is so with a view to something else; that again which is never an object of choice with a view to something else than those which are so both in themselves and with a view to this ulterior object: and so by the term “absolutely final,” we denote that which is an object of choice always in itself, and never with a view to any other.

We call something pursued for its own sake more final than something pursued for the sake of something else. Something never chosen for another purpose is more final still. It is more final than something chosen both for its own sake and for another purpose. So “absolutely final” means something we always choose for its own sake, never for the sake of anything else.

And of this nature Happiness is mostly thought to be, for this we choose always for its own sake, and never with a view to anything further: whereas honour, pleasure, intellect, in fact every excellence we choose for their own sakes, it is true (because we would choose each of these even if no result were to follow), but we choose them also with a view to happiness, conceiving that through their instrumentality we shall be happy: but no man chooses happiness with a view to them, nor in fact with a view to any other thing whatsoever.

And happiness is generally thought to be of this kind. We always choose happiness for its own sake, never for the sake of anything else. By contrast, we do choose honour, pleasure, intellect, and indeed every excellence for their own sakes. We would choose each even if nothing came of it. But we also choose them for the sake of happiness, believing that through them we will be happy. Yet no one chooses happiness for the sake of honour, pleasure, intellect, or excellence, or for anything else at all.

The same result is seen to follow also from the notion of self-sufficiency, a quality thought to belong to the final good. Now by sufficient for Self, we mean not for a single individual living a solitary life, but for his parents also and children and wife, and, in general, friends and countrymen; for man is by nature adapted to a social existence. But of these, of course, some limit must be fixed: for if one extends it to parents and descendants and friends’ friends, there is no end to it. This point, however, must be left for future investigation: for the present we define that to be self-sufficient “which taken alone makes life choice-worthy, and to be in want of nothing;” now of such kind we think Happiness to be: and further, to be most choice-worthy of all things; not being reckoned with any other thing, for if it were so reckoned, it is plain we must then allow it, with the addition of ever so small a good, to be more choice-worthy than it was before: because what is put to it becomes an addition of so much more good, and of goods the greater is ever the more choice-worthy.

The same conclusion also follows from the idea of self-sufficiency, a quality thought to belong to the ultimate good. By self-sufficiency, we do not mean having enough for one person living alone. We also include his parents, children, wife, and, more generally, his friends and fellow citizens. For human beings are naturally suited to social life. But we must, of course, set some limit on whose needs we include. For if we extend the circle to ancestors, descendants, and friends of friends, there is no end to it. However, we must leave this question for later investigation. For now, we define the self-sufficient as “what, on its own, makes life worth choosing and leaves nothing lacking.” We think Happiness meets this definition. We also think Happiness is the most desirable of all things, not counted as one good among others. For if Happiness were counted that way, adding even the smallest good would clearly make Happiness more desirable than before. This is because the added good would increase the total goodness, and a greater good is always more desirable.

that is, treating Happiness as the Chief Good.

that is, with no possibility of addition.

Then Happiness would immediately be shown not to be the Chief Good. To speak of adding to the Chief Good is a contradiction in terms. See Book X. chap. 11. [Greek: delon os oud allo ouden tagathon an eiae o meta tenos ton kath’ auto agathon airetoteron ginetai.]

So then Happiness is manifestly something final and self-sufficient, being the end of all things which are and may be done.

So Happiness is clearly an end in itself and needs nothing else. It is the ultimate goal of all actions, actual or possible.

Chapter V.

Chapter 5

But, it may be, to call Happiness the Chief Good is a mere truism, and what is wanted is some clearer account of its real nature. Now this object may be easily attained, when we have discovered what is the work of man; for as in the case of flute-player, statuary, or artisan of any kind, or, more generally, all who have any work or course of action, their Chief Good and Excellence is thought to reside in their work, so it would seem to be with man, if there is any work belonging to him.

But perhaps calling happiness the highest good merely states the obvious. What we need is a clearer account of what happiness really is. We may easily reach such an account once we discover the human function. Consider a flute player, a sculptor, or any kind of craftsperson. More generally, consider all those who have a particular task or activity. Their highest good and excellence are thought to lie in their work. So the same would seem true of human beings, if human beings have a particular function.

Are we then to suppose, that while carpenter and cobbler have certain works and courses of action, Man as Man has none, but is left by Nature without a work? or would not one rather hold, that as eye, hand, and foot, and generally each of his members, has manifestly some special work; so too the whole Man, as distinct from all these, has some work of his own?

Should we suppose that carpenters and cobblers have specific jobs and activities, but human beings, simply as humans, have none? Has Nature left them with no work to do? Or should we rather think that each eye, hand, foot, and every other body part clearly has its own function? And just as each part has a function, doesn't the whole human being have a function distinct from those parts?

Compare Bishop Butler’s discussion of “Human Nature as a System” in the Preface to his Sermons.

What then can this be? not mere life, because that plainly is shared with him even by vegetables, and we want what is peculiar to him. We must separate off then the life of mere nourishment and growth, and next will come the life of sensation: but this again manifestly is common to horses, oxen, and every animal. There remains then a kind of life of the Rational Nature apt to act: and of this Nature there are two parts denominated Rational, the one as being obedient to Reason, the other as having and exerting it. Again, as this life is also spoken of in two ways, we must take that which is in the way of actual working, because this is thought to be most properly entitled to the name. If then the work of Man is a working of the soul in accordance with reason, or at least not independently of reason, and we say that the work of any given subject, and of that subject good of its kind, are the same in kind (as, for instance, of a harp-player and a good harp-player, and so on in every case, adding to the work eminence in the way of excellence; I mean, the work of a harp-player is to play the harp, and of a good harp-player to play it well); if, I say, this is so, and we assume the work of Man to be life of a certain kind, that is to say a working of the soul, and actions with reason, and of a good man to do these things well and nobly, and in fact everything is finished off well in the way of the excellence which peculiarly belongs to it: if all this is so, then the Good of Man comes to be “a working of the Soul in the way of Excellence,” or, if Excellence admits of degrees, in the way of the best and most perfect Excellence.

What, then, can this be? Not simply being alive, because even plants clearly share life with human beings. We are looking for what is unique to human beings. So we must set aside the life of nourishment and growth. Next comes the life of sensation. But horses, oxen, and every animal clearly share sensation too. What remains, then, is an active life of our rational nature. Two parts of this nature are called rational. One obeys reason, while the other possesses and uses reason. Again, this life can be understood in two ways, and we must take it to mean actual activity. For actual activity is thought to deserve the name most properly. Suppose, then, that the human function is activity of the soul guided by reason, or at least not independent of reason. We also say that something’s function and the function of a good example of its kind are the same in kind. This applies, for instance, to a harp player and a good harp player, and likewise in every case. Excellence adds a superior quality to the performance of the function. I mean that a harp player’s function is to play the harp, and a good harp player’s is to play well. Suppose, as I have said, that all this is so. Suppose also that the human function is a certain kind of life: activity of the soul and actions guided by reason. A good person’s function, then, is to do these things well and nobly. And everything is done well through the excellence proper to it. If all this is so, then the human good is “activity of the soul in accordance with excellence”. Or, if excellence has degrees, it is activity in accordance with the best and most complete excellence.

that is, as active or at rest.

And we must add, ἐν βίῳ τελείῳ; for as it is not one swallow or one fine day that makes a spring, so it is not one day or a short time that makes a man blessed and happy.

And we must add, over a complete lifetime. For one swallow or one fine day does not make a spring. Likewise, one day or a short time does not make a person blessed and happy.

Simply translating this term would not explain its meaning, so I have kept the Greek term. Later, the term is explained as including the time and external resources needed to fully develop human capacities. Here, only time is meant.

Let this then be taken for a rough sketch of the Chief Good: since it is probably the right way to give first the outline, and fill it in afterwards. And it would seem that any man may improve and connect what is good in the sketch, and that time is a good discoverer and co-operator in such matters: it is thus in fact that all improvements in the various arts have been brought about, for any man may fill up a deficiency.

Let us take this as a rough sketch of the Chief Good. It is probably best to start with an outline and fill in the details later. It seems that anyone may improve the good parts of the sketch and connect them. Time, too, helps us make discoveries and develop such ideas. In fact, all improvements in the various arts have come about in this way, since anyone may fill a gap.

You must remember also what has been already stated, and not seek for exactness in all matters alike, but in each according to the subject-matter, and so far as properly belongs to the system. The carpenter and geometrician, for instance, enquire into the right line in different fashion: the former so far as he wants it for his work, the latter enquires into its nature and properties, because he is concerned with the truth.

You must also remember what has already been said. Do not seek the same precision in all matters. Instead, seek the precision suited to each subject, within the proper scope of the inquiry. A carpenter and a geometer, for example, study a straight line in different ways. The carpenter studies the line only as far as his work requires. The geometer studies the line’s nature and properties because he is concerned with the truth.

So then should one do in other matters, that the incidental matters may not exceed the direct ones.

We should handle other matters the same way, so that secondary concerns do not outweigh the main ones.

And again, you must not demand the reason either in all things alike, because in some it is sufficient that the fact has been well demonstrated, which is the case with first principles; and the fact is the first step, i.e. starting-point or principle.

Again, you must not demand reasons in the same way for all things, because some facts only need to be clearly established. First principles are like this. The fact is the first step, that is, the starting point or principle.

This principle is explained more fully, with examples, in the Topics, I. chap. ix.

And of these first principles some are obtained by induction, some by perception, some by a course of habituation, others in other different ways. And we must try to trace up each in their own nature, and take pains to secure their being well defined, because they have great influence on what follows: it is thought, I mean, that the starting-point or principle is more than half the whole matter, and that many of the points of enquiry come simultaneously into view thereby.

Some of these first principles are learned through induction, some through perception, some through habit, and others in different ways. We must try to trace each principle in a way suited to its nature. We must also take care to define these principles clearly, because they greatly influence what follows. I mean that the starting point or principle is thought to be more than half the whole matter. It is also thought that this starting point brings many of the questions under investigation into view at once.

Either the bodily senses or the moral senses. “Fire burns,” is an example of the bodily senses, “Treason is odious,” of the moral senses.

Chapter VI.

Chapter 6

We must now enquire concerning Happiness, not only from our conclusion and the data on which our reasoning proceeds, but likewise from what is commonly said about it: because with what is true all things which really are are in harmony, but with that which is false the true very soon jars.

We must now examine Happiness, not only through our conclusion and the facts on which our reasoning rests. We must also consider what people commonly say about Happiness. This is because all things that really exist agree with what is true. But truth soon clashes with what is false.

Now there is a common division of goods into three classes; one being called external, the other two those of the soul and body respectively, and those belonging to the soul we call most properly and specially good. Well, in our definition we assume that the actions and workings of the soul constitute Happiness, and these of course belong to the soul. And so our account is a good one, at least according to this opinion, which is of ancient date, and accepted by those who profess philosophy. Rightly too are certain actions and workings said to be the end, for thus it is brought into the number of the goods of the soul instead of the external. Agreeing also with our definition is the common notion, that the happy man lives well and does well, for it has been stated by us to be pretty much a kind of living well and doing well.

Goods are commonly divided into three classes: external goods, goods of the soul, and goods of the body. We call goods of the soul good in the fullest and most specific sense. Now, our definition assumes that Happiness consists in the soul’s actions and activities. These actions and activities clearly belong to the soul. So our account is sound, at least according to this ancient view, accepted by those who practice philosophy. It is also right to describe certain actions and activities as the ultimate goal. This places the ultimate goal among goods of the soul rather than external goods. Our definition also agrees with the common view that a happy person lives well and does well. For we have described Happiness as more or less a kind of living well and doing well.

And further, the points required in Happiness are found in combination in our account of it.

Furthermore, our account of Happiness brings together all the features that Happiness requires.

For some think it is virtue, others practical wisdom, others a kind of scientific philosophy; others that it is these, or else some one of them, in combination with pleasure, or at least not independently of it; while others again take in external prosperity.

For some think it is virtue, others practical wisdom, and others a kind of systematic philosophical knowledge. Others think it is all or one of these combined with pleasure, or at least not separate from pleasure. Still others also include external prosperity.

Of these opinions, some rest on the authority of numbers or antiquity, others on that of few, and those men of note: and it is not likely that either of these classes should be wrong in all points, but be right at least in some one, or even in most.

Some of these opinions carry weight because many people hold them or because they are ancient. Others carry weight because a few distinguished men hold them. Neither group is likely to be wrong on every point. Instead, each is likely to be right on at least one point, or even on most.

Now with those who assert it to be Virtue (Excellence), or some kind of Virtue, our account agrees: for working in the way of Excellence surely belongs to Excellence.

Our account agrees with those who say it is Virtue (Excellence), or some kind of Virtue. This is because acting with Excellence is surely part of Excellence.

And there is perhaps no unimportant difference between conceiving of the Chief Good as in possession or as in use, in other words, as a mere state or as a working. For the state or habit may possibly exist in a subject without effecting any good, as, for instance, in him who is asleep, or in any other way inactive; but the working cannot so, for it will of necessity act, and act well. And as at the Olympic games it is not the finest and strongest men who are crowned, but they who enter the lists, for out of these the prize-men are selected; so too in life, of the honourable and the good, it is they who act who rightly win the prizes.

And perhaps there is an important difference between seeing the Chief Good as something we possess or something we use. In other words, is it simply a state or an activity? For a state or habit may exist in someone without producing any good. This may happen, for example, when someone is asleep or inactive in some other way. But activity cannot be like this, because it necessarily involves acting, and acting well. And at the Olympic games, the finest and strongest men are not necessarily crowned. Rather, those who compete are crowned, because the winners are chosen from among the competitors. So too in life, those who act rightly win the prizes among the honourable and the good.

I thought it worthwhile to interpret this word differently in different places. This is because, although “habitus” may cover all the meanings of [Greek: exis], “habit” does not. At least in everyday usage, we commonly use “habit” to mean a state formed through repeated practice.

Another, perhaps more obvious, way to translate this passage is to apply [Greek: kalon kagathon] to things. The phrase would then depend grammatically on [Greek: epaeboli]. However, remember that [Greek: kalos kagathos] also had a specific, well-known meaning. The comparison in the text is also more complete, and the passage’s point seems more fully expressed.

Their life too is in itself pleasant: for the feeling of pleasure is a mental sensation, and that is to each pleasant of which he is said to be fond: a horse, for instance, to him who is fond of horses, and a sight to him who is fond of sights: and so in like manner just acts to him who is fond of justice, and more generally the things in accordance with virtue to him who is fond of virtue. Now in the case of the multitude of men the things which they individually esteem pleasant clash, because they are not such by nature, whereas to the lovers of nobleness those things are pleasant which are such by nature: but the actions in accordance with virtue are of this kind, so that they are pleasant both to the individuals and also in themselves.

Their life is also pleasant in itself, because pleasure is a feeling in the mind. Each person takes pleasure in what they love. A horse, for example, pleases someone who loves horses, and a sight pleases someone who loves sights. In the same way, just actions please someone who loves justice. More generally, actions in keeping with virtue please someone who loves virtue. For most people, the things they individually find pleasant conflict, because those things are not pleasant by nature. But people who love what is noble take pleasure in things that are pleasant by nature. Actions in keeping with virtue are pleasant by nature. So virtuous actions are pleasant both to those people and in themselves.

So then their life has no need of pleasure as a kind of additional appendage, but involves pleasure in itself. For, besides what I have just mentioned, a man is not a good man at all who feels no pleasure in noble actions, just as no one would call that man just who does not feel pleasure in acting justly, or liberal who does not in liberal actions, and similarly in the case of the other virtues which might be enumerated: and if this be so, then the actions in accordance with virtue must be in themselves pleasurable. Then again they are certainly good and noble, and each of these in the highest degree; if we are to take as right the judgment of the good man, for he judges as we have said.

So their life does not need pleasure as an added extra, but is pleasurable in itself. For, besides what I have already mentioned, a man is not good at all unless he enjoys noble actions. Similarly, no one would call a man just unless he enjoys acting justly, or generous unless he enjoys acting generously. The same applies to the other virtues we could list. If this is so, then actions guided by virtue must be pleasurable in themselves. Moreover, these actions are certainly good and noble, and possess both qualities to the highest degree. This follows if we accept the good man's judgment as correct, for he judges as we have described.

“Goodness always implies the love of itself, an affection to goodness.” (Bishop Butler, Sermon xiii ) In the Tenth Book of this Treatise, Aristotle describes pleasure as arising whenever a faculty of perception encounters its corresponding object. Pleasure from vice is just as truly pleasure as the most refined and elevated pleasure. If Goodness implies loving goodness itself, then the perceiver will always have the object of perception present. Pleasure will therefore arise continually.

Thus then Happiness is most excellent, most noble, and most pleasant, and these attributes are not separated as in the well-known Delian inscription—

So Happiness is the best, noblest, and most pleasant thing. These qualities are not separate, as they are in the well-known Delian inscription:

“Most noble is that which is most just, but best is health; And naturally most pleasant is the obtaining one’s desires.”

“What is most just is most noble, but health is best. And naturally, getting what you want is most pleasant.”

For all these co-exist in the best acts of working: and we say that Happiness is these, or one, that is, the best of them.

For all these are present together in the best activities. And we say that Happiness is all of these, or just one, the best of them.

Still it is quite plain that it does require the addition of external goods, as we have said: because without appliances it is impossible, or at all events not easy, to do noble actions: for friends, money, and political influence are in a manner instruments whereby many things are done: some things there are again a deficiency in which mars blessedness; good birth, for instance, or fine offspring, or even personal beauty: for he is not at all capable of Happiness who is very ugly, or is ill-born, or solitary and childless; and still less perhaps supposing him to have very bad children or friends, or to have lost good ones by death. As we have said already, the addition of prosperity of this kind does seem necessary to complete the idea of Happiness; hence some rank good fortune, and others virtue, with Happiness.

Still, Happiness clearly requires external goods as well, as we have said. Without practical resources, noble actions are impossible, or at least difficult. For friends, money, and political influence are, in a sense, tools for accomplishing many things. There are also things whose absence diminishes happiness, such as noble birth, good children, or even physical beauty. For a man cannot be happy at all if he is very ugly, low-born, or alone and childless. Perhaps he is even less capable of Happiness if his children or friends are very bad. The same may be true if he has lost good children or friends through death. As we have already said, prosperity of this kind does seem necessary to make Happiness complete. This is why some identify Happiness with good fortune, while others identify it with virtue.

Despite the theory, we know in practice that external circumstances are needed to complete the idea of Happiness. This does not mean that Happiness can be increased. Rather, when we identify Happiness with virtuous action, we must understand that such action needs favorable conditions. This is, in fact, the other side of [Greek: bios teleios].

Chapter VII.

Chapter 7

And hence too a question is raised, whether it is a thing that can be learned, or acquired by habituation or discipline of some other kind, or whether it comes in the way of divine dispensation, or even in the way of chance.

This also raises a question: can it be learned, or acquired through habit or some other kind of training? Or does it come as a divine gift, or even by chance?

Now to be sure, if anything else is a gift of the Gods to men, it is probable that Happiness is a gift of theirs too, and specially because of all human goods it is the highest. But this, it may be, is a question belonging more properly to an investigation different from ours: and it is quite clear, that on the supposition of its not being sent from the Gods direct, but coming to us by reason of virtue and learning of a certain kind, or discipline, it is yet one of the most Godlike things; because the prize and End of virtue is manifestly somewhat most excellent, nay divine and blessed.

Now, if anything else is a gift from the Gods to humans, Happiness is probably their gift too. This is especially likely because Happiness is the highest of all human goods. But perhaps this question belongs more properly to a different inquiry from ours: Even if Happiness does not come directly from the Gods, it is clearly still one of the most Godlike things. This remains true if Happiness comes through virtue and a certain kind of learning or training. For the reward and goal of virtue is clearly something supremely excellent, indeed divine and blessed.

It is striking how Aristotle again sets aside a question he considers impractical. If Happiness were truly a direct gift from Heaven, regardless of human conduct, all motivation for self-discipline and moral improvement would disappear. So he shows that Happiness loses none of its value if we suppose it comes at least partly from ourselves. He then gives further reasons why we should agree with him.

It will also on this supposition be widely participated, for it may through learning and diligence of a certain kind exist in all who have not been maimed for virtue.

On this assumption, it will also be widely shared. For learning and a certain kind of effort may make it available to all who have not been left incapable of virtue.

This term matters: what has been maimed was once whole. He does not consider it possible for a man to be born incapable of virtue and therefore of happiness.

And if it is better we should be happy thus than as a result of chance, this is in itself an argument that the case is so; because those things which are in the way of nature, and in like manner of art, and of every cause, and specially the best cause, are by nature in the best way possible: to leave them to chance what is greatest and most noble would be very much out of harmony with all these facts.

And if becoming happy in this way is better than becoming happy by chance, that itself supports the view that we become happy this way. For nature, art, and every cause, especially the best cause, naturally produce their results in the best possible way. Leaving what is greatest and noblest to chance would be deeply at odds with all these facts.

[Greek] Plato. Phædon. xlvi.

The question may be determined also by a reference to our definition of Happiness, that it is a working of the soul in the way of excellence or virtue of a certain kind: and of the other goods, some we must have to begin with, and those which are co-operative and useful are given by nature as instruments.

We may also settle the question by referring to our definition of Happiness. Happiness is the soul’s activity in keeping with excellence or virtue of a certain kind. Of the other goods, some must be present from the start. And nature provides the goods that support and assist this activity as tools.

But why provide materials and tools if there is no work to do?

These considerations will harmonise also with what we said at the commencement: for we assumed the End of πολιτικὴ to be most excellent: now this bestows most care on making the members of the community of a certain character; good that is and apt to do what is honourable.

These considerations also agree with what we said at the beginning. For we assumed that political science aims at the highest good. Now political science focuses above all on shaping the character of community members, making them good and ready to act honorably.

With good reason then neither ox nor horse nor any other brute animal do we call happy, for none of them can partake in such working: and for this same reason a child is not happy either, because by reason of his tender age he cannot yet perform such actions: if the term is applied, it is by way of anticipation.

We are right, then, not to call an ox, a horse, or any other animal happy. None can take part in such activities. For the same reason, a child is not happy either, because he is too young to perform such actions. If we call a child happy, we do so in anticipation of the future.

For to constitute Happiness, there must be, as we have said, complete virtue and a complete life: for many changes and chances of all kinds arise during a life, and he who is most prosperous may become involved in great misfortunes in his old age, as in the heroic poems the tale is told of Priam: but the man who has experienced such fortune and died in wretchedness, no man calls happy.

For happiness requires, as we have said, complete virtue and a complete life. This is because life brings many changes and chance events of all kinds. Even the most prosperous man may suffer great misfortunes in old age, as Priam does in the heroic poems. But no one calls a man happy if he has suffered such misfortunes and died in misery.

Chapter VIII.

Chapter 8

Are we then to call no man happy while he lives, and, as Solon would have us, look to the end? And again, if we are to maintain this position, is a man then happy when he is dead? or is not this a complete absurdity, specially in us who say Happiness is a working of a certain kind?

Should we then call no man happy while he is alive? Should we, as Solon advises, wait until the end of his life? And if we hold this view, is a man happy when he is dead? Or is that idea completely absurd, especially for those of us who say happiness is a certain kind of activity?

If on the other hand we do not assert that the dead man is happy, and Solon does not mean this, but only that one would then be safe in pronouncing a man happy, as being thenceforward out of the reach of evils and misfortunes, this too admits of some dispute, since it is thought that the dead has somewhat both of good and evil (if, as we must allow, a man may have when alive but not aware of the circumstances), as honour and dishonour, and good and bad fortune of children and descendants generally.

On the other hand, suppose we do not claim that a dead man is happy. Nor does Solon mean that a dead man is happy. He means only that we can safely call a man happy after death, when evils and misfortunes can no longer reach him. But even this view is open to debate, since people think the dead can experience some good and evil. After all, we must admit that a living person may experience good and evil without knowing about them. For the dead, these include honor and dishonor, and the good and bad fortune of their children and descendants generally.

Nor is this view again without its difficulties: for, after a man has lived in blessedness to old age and died accordingly, many changes may befall him in right of his descendants; some of them may be good and obtain positions in life accordant to their merits, others again quite the contrary: it is plain too that the descendants may at different intervals or grades stand in all manner of relations to the ancestors. Absurd indeed would be the position that even the dead man is to change about with them and become at one time happy and at another miserable. Absurd however it is on the other hand that the affairs of the descendants should in no degree and during no time affect the ancestors.

Yet this view also has its difficulties. A man may live happily into old age and die as happily as he lived. Even afterward, his descendants may bring many changes to his fortunes. Some descendants may be good and achieve positions in life that match their merits. Others may be quite the opposite. Clearly, too, descendants may have all kinds of relationships to their ancestors, across different times or degrees of kinship. It would be absurd to say that the dead man's fortunes change along with his descendants' fortunes. He would then be happy at one time and miserable at another. Yet it would also be absurd if descendants' affairs never affected their ancestors in any way or at any time.

The two supposed ancestors.

But we must revert to the point first raised, since the present question will be easily determined from that.

But we must return to the point first raised, because it will make the present question easy to answer.

Solon says, “Call no man happy till he is dead.” He must mean either that a dead man is happy (a), or that he may be said to have been happy (b). If he means the first, does he mean actual happiness (a), or only freedom from unhappiness (β)? We cannot accept (a). People’s opinions rule out (β). We now return to (b).

If then we are to look to the end and then pronounce the man blessed, not as being so but as having been so at some previous time, surely it is absurd that when he is happy the truth is not to be asserted of him, because we are unwilling to pronounce the living happy by reason of their liability to changes, and because, whereas we have conceived of happiness as something stable and no way easily changeable, the fact is that good and bad fortune are constantly circling about the same people: for it is quite plain, that if we are to depend upon the fortunes of men, we shall often have to call the same man happy, and a little while after miserable, thus representing our happy man,

Suppose, then, we must wait until a man's life ends before calling him blessed. We would mean not that he is blessed now, but that he was blessed at some earlier time. Surely it is absurd not to tell the truth about him when he is happy. We hold back because we are unwilling to call living people happy, since their lives are subject to change. And although we think of happiness as stable and not easily changed, good and bad fortune constantly revisit the same people. Clearly, if we judge people by their fortunes, we will often call the same man happy, then miserable shortly afterward. In this way, we portray our happy man,

“Chameleon-like, and based on rottenness.”

“Changing like a chameleon, and built on a rotten foundation.”

Is not this the solution? that to make our sentence dependent on the changes of fortune, is no way right: for not in them stands the well, or the ill, but though human life needs these as accessories (which we have allowed already), the workings in the way of virtue are what determine Happiness, and the contrary the contrary.

Is this not the solution? It is wrong to base our judgment on changes in fortune. For living well or badly does not depend on those changes. Still, human life needs good fortune as a supporting condition, as we have already acknowledged. But actions guided by virtue determine Happiness, and actions contrary to virtue determine the opposite.

And, by the way, the question which has been here discussed, testifies incidentally to the truth of our account of Happiness. For to nothing does a stability of human results attach so much as it does to the workings in the way of virtue, since these are held to be more abiding even than the sciences: and of these last again the most precious are the most abiding, because the blessed live in them most and most continuously, which seems to be the reason why they are not forgotten. So then this stability which is sought will be in the happy man, and he will be such through life, since always, or most of all, he will be doing and contemplating the things which are in the way of virtue: and the various chances of life he will bear most nobly, and at all times and in all ways harmoniously, since he is the truly good man, or in the terms of our proverb “a faultless cube.”

Incidentally, the question discussed here also supports the truth of our account of Happiness. For no human achievement is as lasting as activity guided by virtue. Such activities are considered more lasting even than the sciences. And among these, the most valuable are also the most lasting. This is because the blessed spend the most time on them, and do so most continuously. This seems to explain why they are not forgotten. So the happy man will have the stability we are looking for, and will remain happy throughout his life. For he will always, or more than anything else, act and reflect in ways guided by virtue. And he will bear life's changing fortunes most nobly, always and in every way maintaining harmony. For he is the truly good man, or, as our proverb puts it, “a faultless cube.”

The difficulty arose from a conflict between a common belief and a fact everyone experiences. Most people believe Happiness should last, but everyone knows that fortune changes. The belief supports our definition because we have based Happiness on the most lasting cause.

I take τούτον αὐτῶν to refer to ἐπιστημῶν, contrary to Magirus and the Paraphrase of Andronicus Rhodius. I would point to Aristotle’s account of θεωρία in the Tenth Book, chap. vii. There, he explicitly says that the activity of νοῦς, or pure intellect, is “most continuous.”

And whereas the incidents of chance are many, and differ in greatness and smallness, the small pieces of good or ill fortune evidently do not affect the balance of life, but the great and numerous, if happening for good, will make life more blessed (for it is their nature to contribute to ornament, and the using of them comes to be noble and excellent), but if for ill, they bruise as it were and maim the blessedness: for they bring in positive pain, and hinder many acts of working. But still, even in these, nobleness shines through when a man bears contentedly many and great mischances not from insensibility to pain but because he is noble and high-spirited.

Chance events are many and vary in importance. Small strokes of good or bad luck clearly do not upset the balance of life. But great and numerous strokes of good fortune will make life more blessed. Such good fortune naturally enriches life, and using it can be noble and excellent. But great and numerous strokes of bad fortune bruise and cripple life's blessedness, so to speak. For such misfortunes cause real pain and prevent many worthwhile actions. Yet even amid such hardships, nobility shines through when a man calmly bears many great misfortunes. He does so not because he feels no pain, but because he is noble and strong in spirit.

And if, as we have said, the acts of working are what determine the character of the life, no one of the blessed can ever become wretched, because he will never do those things which are hateful and mean. For the man who is truly good and sensible bears all fortunes, we presume, becomingly, and always does what is noblest under the circumstances, just as a good general employs to the best advantage the force he has with him; or a good shoemaker makes the handsomest shoe he can out of the leather which has been given him; and all other good artisans likewise. And if this be so, wretched never can the happy man come to be: I do not mean to say he will be blessed should he fall into fortunes like those of Priam.

And if, as we have said, our actions determine the character of our lives, no blessed person can ever become wretched. This is because he will never do anything hateful or base. For we assume that a truly good and sensible man faces every change of fortune with dignity. He always does what is noblest in the circumstances. Just so, a good general makes the best use of the forces available to him. Or a good shoemaker makes the finest shoe he can from the leather he has been given. All other skilled craftspeople do the same. And if this is so, a happy man can never become wretched. I do not mean that he will remain blessed if he suffers misfortunes like those of Priam.

Nor, in truth, is he shifting and easily changeable, for on the one hand from his happiness he will not be shaken easily nor by ordinary mischances, but, if at all, by those which are great and numerous; and, on the other, after such mischances he cannot regain his happiness in a little time; but, if at all, in a long and complete period, during which he has made himself master of great and noble things.

Nor is he, in fact, fickle or easily changed. For ordinary misfortunes will not easily shake his happiness. Only great and numerous misfortunes could do so, if any could. But after such misfortunes, he cannot regain his happiness quickly. If he regains it at all, he will need a long, full period of time. During that time, he must have achieved great and noble things.

Why then should we not call happy the man who works in the way of perfect virtue, and is furnished with external goods sufficient for acting his part in the drama of life: and this during no ordinary period but such as constitutes a complete life as we have been describing it.

Why, then, should we not call a man happy if he acts with perfect virtue? He must also have enough external goods to play his part in the drama of life. And he must live this way not just for an ordinary period, but for a complete life as we have described.

The term seems deliberately chosen. The Choragus, of course, dressed his actors for their parts, not to suit their tastes or his own. Hooker has a passage that seems to paraphrase this point admirably (E. P. v. ixxvi. 5). “Again, that the measure of our outward prosperity be taken by proportion with that which every man’s estate in this present life requireth. External abilities are instruments of action. It contenteth wise artificers to have their instruments proportionable to their work, rather fit for use than huge and goodly to please the eye. Seeing then the actions of a servant do not need that which may be necessary for men of calling and place in the world, neither men of inferior condition many things which greater personages can hardly want; surely they are blessed in worldly respects who have wherewith to perform what their station and place asketh, though they have no more.”

Or we must add, that not only is he to live so, but his death must be in keeping with such life, since the future is dark to us, and Happiness we assume to be in every way an end and complete. And, if this be so, we shall call them among the living blessed who have and will have the things specified, but blessed as Men.

Or we must add that he must not only live this way, but also die in keeping with his life. For the future is unknown to us, and we assume Happiness is a goal, complete in every way. If so, we will call those living people blessed who have, and will continue to have, the things specified. But they are blessed as Men.

Always keep in mind that a person “never continueth in one stay.”

On these points then let it suffice to have denned thus much.

For these points, then, let what we have defined so far be enough.

Chapter IX.

Chapter 9

Now that the fortunes of their descendants, and friends generally, contribute nothing towards forming the condition of the dead, is plainly a very heartless notion, and contrary to the current opinions.

The idea that the dead are unaffected by the fortunes of their descendants and friends in general is plainly very heartless. This idea also goes against common opinion.

But since things which befall are many, and differ in all kinds of ways, and some touch more nearly, others less, to go into minute particular distinctions would evidently be a long and endless task: and so it may suffice to speak generally and in outline.

But many things happen, and they differ in all kinds of ways. Some affect us more closely than others. Because of this, making detailed distinctions would clearly be a long and endless task. So it may be enough to speak generally and give an outline.

If then, as of the misfortunes which happen to one’s self, some have a certain weight and turn the balance of life, while others are, so to speak, lighter; so it is likewise with those which befall all our friends alike; if further, whether they whom each suffering befalls be alive or dead makes much more difference than in a tragedy the presupposing or actual perpetration of the various crimes and horrors, we must take into our account this difference also, and still more perhaps the doubt concerning the dead whether they really partake of any good or evil; it seems to result from all these considerations, that if anything does pierce the veil and reach them, be the same good or bad, it must be something trivial and small, either in itself or to them; or at least of such a magnitude or such a kind as neither to make happy them that are not so otherwise, nor to deprive of their blessedness them that are.

Suppose, then, that some personal misfortunes carry enough weight to tip the balance of a life. Others are, so to speak, lighter. Suppose the same is true of the misfortunes that happen to all our friends alike. Suppose, further, that it makes a difference whether those who suffer are alive or dead. This difference is much greater than the difference between crimes and horrors assumed to have happened and actually committed in a tragedy. We must take this difference into account. Perhaps we must give even more weight to the doubt about whether the dead experience any good or evil. From all these considerations, the following seems to follow. If anything good or bad passes through the veil and reaches the dead, it must be trivial and small. It must be small either in itself or in its effect on them. Or at least its size or nature must prevent it from making happy those who are not otherwise happy. Nor could it rob those who are blessed of their blessedness.

The point is this: as we have said, personal fortunes must have enough weight and number to affect our happiness. Of course, the same applies to our friends’ fortunes insofar as they affect us. Our friends’ fortunes are the only ones supposed to affect the dead. Then factor in the difference in sensitivity we can reasonably assume, and very little joy or sorrow remains.

It is plain then that the good or ill fortunes of their friends do affect the dead somewhat: but in such kind and degree as neither to make the happy unhappy nor produce any other such effect.

Clearly, then, the good or bad fortunes of their friends do affect the dead to some extent. But these effects are too limited to make the happy unhappy or cause any similar change.

Chapter X.

Chapter 10

Having determined these points, let us examine with respect to Happiness, whether it belongs to the class of things praiseworthy or things precious; for to that of faculties it evidently does not.

With these points settled, let us consider whether Happiness belongs among things worthy of praise or things to be treasured. For Happiness clearly does not belong among abilities.

This is meant to classify all goods as either actual (in esse) or potential (in posse). Actual goods are either above praise or worthy of praise. Potential goods (in posse), called faculties here, are good only when used rightly. Thus Rhetoric is a faculty that may be used to promote justice or misused to support villainy. The same applies to money.

Now it is plain that everything which is a subject of praise is praised for being of a certain kind and bearing a certain relation to something else: for instance, the just, and the valiant, and generally the good man, and virtue itself, we praise because of the actions and the results: and the strong man, and the quick runner, and so forth, we praise for being of a certain nature and bearing a certain relation to something good and excellent (and this is illustrated by attempts to praise the gods; for they are presented in a ludicrous aspect by being referred to our standard, and this results from the fact, that all praise does, as we have said, imply reference to a standard). Now if it is to such objects that praise belongs, it is evident that what is applicable to the best objects is not praise, but something higher and better: which is plain matter of fact, for not only do we call the gods blessed and happy, but of men also we pronounce those blessed who most nearly resemble the gods. And in like manner in respect of goods; no man thinks of praising Happiness as he does the principle of justice, but calls it blessed, as being somewhat more godlike and more excellent.

Clearly, everything we praise is praised for its qualities and its relation to something else. For example, we praise just and brave people, and good people generally, because of their actions and results. We praise virtue itself for the same reasons. We praise strong people, fast runners, and others for their qualities and their relation to something good and excellent. (Attempts to praise the gods illustrate this point. The gods are made to look ridiculous when judged by our standards. This happens because all praise, as we have said, refers to a standard.) Now, if praise belongs to things of this kind, the best things clearly deserve something higher and better than praise. Actual practice makes this clear. We call the gods blessed and happy. We also call those people blessed who most closely resemble the gods. The same applies to good things. No one thinks of praising Happiness as they praise the principle of justice. Instead, they call Happiness blessed, because it is something more godlike and more excellent.

The question is whether [Greek] or [Greek] is the subject of the sentence. The translation above is based on more than the meaning of this passage. It also draws on a comparison with a similar passage in Book X. chap 8. [Greek].

Eudoxus too is thought to have advanced a sound argument in support of the claim of pleasure to the highest prize: for the fact that, though it is one of the good things, it is not praised, he took for an indication of its superiority to those which are subjects of praise: a superiority he attributed also to a god and the Chief Good, on the ground that they form the standard to which everything besides is referred. For praise applies to virtue, because it makes men apt to do what is noble; but encomia to definite works of body or mind.

Eudoxus too is thought to have made a sound argument for pleasure’s claim to be the highest good. Although pleasure is one of the good things, it is not praised. He took this lack of praise as a sign that pleasure is superior to things that receive praise. He also attributed this superiority to a god and the Chief Good. His reason was that they serve as the standard against which everything else is judged. For virtue is praised because it makes people capable of doing what is noble. But tributes celebrate specific achievements of the body or mind.

Eudoxus was a philosopher whose view of pleasure was later adopted by Epicurus. But his character was beyond reproach, as Aristotle confirms in the Tenth Book.

See the Rhetoric, Book I. chap ix.

However, it is perhaps more suitable to a regular treatise on encomia to pursue this topic with exactness: it is enough for our purpose that from what has been said it is evident that Happiness belongs to the class of things precious and final. And it seems to be so also because of its being a starting-point; which it is, in that with a view to it we all do everything else that is done; now the starting-point and cause of good things we assume to be something precious and divine.

However, a systematic study of praise is perhaps a better place to examine this topic in detail. For our purposes, what has been said is enough. Happiness clearly belongs among things valued in themselves and sought as final goals. Happiness also seems to belong there because it is a starting point. Happiness is a starting point because everything else we all do is done for its sake. Now, we assume that the starting point and cause of good things is something precious and divine.

Chapter XI.

Chapter 11

Moreover, since Happiness is a kind of working of the soul in the way of perfect Excellence, we must enquire concerning Excellence: for so probably shall we have a clearer view concerning Happiness; and again, he who is really a statesman is generally thought to have spent most pains on this, for he wishes to make the citizens good and obedient to the laws. (For examples of this class we have the lawgivers of the Cretans and Lacedæmonians and whatever other such there have been.) But if this investigation belongs properly to πολιτικὴ, then clearly the enquiry will be in accordance with our original design.

Moreover, happiness is a kind of activity of the soul that expresses complete excellence. So we must examine excellence, since doing so will probably give us a clearer understanding of happiness. A true statesman is also generally thought to have devoted most of his efforts to excellence. For he wants to make citizens good and obedient to the laws. (Examples include the lawgivers of the Cretans and Lacedæmonians, and any other such lawgivers there have been.) But if this investigation properly belongs to political science, then our inquiry clearly follows our original plan.

Well, we are to enquire concerning Excellence, i.e. Human Excellence of course, because it was the Chief Good of Man and the Happiness of Man that we were enquiring of just now.

Well, we are to examine excellence, that is, human excellence, of course. This is because we were just examining the highest good for human beings and their happiness.

And by Human Excellence we mean not that of man’s body but that of his soul; for we call Happiness a working of the Soul.

By human excellence, we mean excellence of the soul, not the body, because we call happiness an activity of the soul.

And if this is so, it is plain that some knowledge of the nature of the Soul is necessary for the statesman, just as for the oculist a knowledge of the whole body, and the more so in proportion as πολιτικὴ is more precious and higher than the healing art: and in fact physicians of the higher class do busy themselves much with the knowledge of the body.

And if this is so, a statesman clearly needs some knowledge of the soul’s nature. Just as an eye doctor needs knowledge of the whole body, a statesman needs knowledge of the soul. The statesman’s need is greater in proportion to how much more valuable and important political science is than medicine. In fact, leading doctors devote much attention to understanding the body.

So then the statesman is to consider the nature of the Soul: but he must do so with these objects in view, and so far only as may suffice for the objects of his special enquiry: for to carry his speculations to a greater exactness is perhaps a task more laborious than falls within his province.

So the statesman must consider the nature of the soul. But he must keep these goals in mind and study the soul only as far as his particular inquiry requires. For greater precision would perhaps demand more work than his role calls for.

In fact, the few statements made on the subject in my popular treatises are quite enough, and accordingly we will adopt them here: as, that the Soul consists of two parts, the Irrational and the Rational (as to whether these are actually divided, as are the parts of the body, and everything that is capable of division; or are only metaphysically speaking two, being by nature inseparable, as are convex and concave circumferences, matters not in respect of our present purpose). And of the Irrational, the one part seems common to other objects, and in fact vegetative; I mean the cause of nourishment and growth (for such a faculty of the Soul one would assume to exist in all things that receive nourishment, even in embryos, and this the same as in the perfect creatures; for this is more likely than that it should be a different one).

In fact, the few statements on this subject in my works for general readers are quite enough. So we will adopt them here. The Soul consists of two parts, the Irrational and the Rational. These parts may be physically separate, like parts of the body or anything else that can be divided. Or they may be distinct only in thought, yet inseparable by nature, like the convex and concave sides of a curve. For our present purpose, the distinction does not matter. One part of the Irrational seems shared with other living things and is, in fact, vegetative. I mean the part responsible for nourishment and growth. We would assume that this power of the Soul exists in all things that receive nourishment, even embryos. We would also assume that this power is the same in embryos as in fully developed creatures. For this is more likely than that they have different powers.

Now the Excellence of this manifestly is not peculiar to the human species but common to others: for this part and this faculty is thought to work most in time of sleep, and the good and bad man are least distinguishable while asleep; whence it is a common saying that during one half of life there is no difference between the happy and the wretched; and this accords with our anticipations, for sleep is an inactivity of the soul, in so far as it is denominated good or bad, except that in some wise some of its movements find their way through the veil and so the good come to have better dreams than ordinary men. But enough of this: we must forego any further mention of the nutritive part, since it is not naturally capable of the Excellence which is peculiarly human.

Clearly, excellence in this faculty is not unique to humans but is shared by other species. For this part of the soul and its faculty are thought to work most during sleep. And good and bad people are hardest to tell apart when asleep. Hence the common saying that, for half of life, there is no difference between the happy and the miserable. This saying fits what we would expect. For sleep is a state in which the soul is inactive insofar as it is called good or bad. Yet some of the soul’s movements somehow pass through the veil of sleep. As a result, good people have better dreams than ordinary people. But enough of this. We must say no more about the nutritive part of the soul. By nature, it cannot possess the excellence that is uniquely human.

And there seems to be another Irrational Nature of the Soul, which yet in a way partakes of Reason. For in the man who controls his appetites, and in him who resolves to do so and fails, we praise the Reason or Rational part of the Soul, because it exhorts aright and to the best course: but clearly there is in them, beside the Reason, some other natural principle which fights with and strains against the Reason. (For in plain terms, just as paralysed limbs of the body when their owners would move them to the right are borne aside in a contrary direction to the left, so is it in the case of the Soul, for the impulses of men who cannot control their appetites are to contrary points: the difference is that in the case of the body we do see what is borne aside but in the case of the soul we do not. But, it may be, not the less on that account are we to suppose that there is in the Soul also somewhat besides the Reason, which is opposed to this and goes against it; as to how it is different, that is irrelevant.)

There also seems to be another irrational part of the soul that, in a way, shares in reason. We praise reason, or the rational part of the soul, in someone who controls his appetites. We also praise reason in someone who resolves to control his appetites but fails. This is because reason urges them toward what is right and best. But clearly, both have another natural principle besides reason that fights against reason and resists it. (To put it plainly, paralysed limbs move left when the person tries to move them right. The same happens in the soul, where people who cannot control their appetites have impulses that oppose reason. The difference is that we see the body's movements in the wrong direction, but not the soul's. But perhaps we should be no less willing, despite this difference, to suppose that the soul contains something besides reason. This other part opposes reason and works against it. Exactly how this part differs from reason is irrelevant.)

What we cannot see is at least as real as what we can see.

But of Reason this too does evidently partake, as we have said: for instance, in the man of self-control it obeys Reason: and perhaps in the man of perfected self-mastery, or the brave man, it is yet more obedient; in them it agrees entirely with the Reason.

But this too clearly shares in Reason, as we have said. For example, in a self-controlled person, it obeys Reason. And perhaps in someone with complete self-mastery, or in a brave person, it is even more obedient. In these people, it agrees entirely with Reason.

The terms come from the Seventh Book and are used here in their precise philosophical sense. The [Greek: enkrates] is someone with bad or unruly desires, but whose reason is strong enough to control them. The [Greek: akrates] is someone whose desires constantly overpower his reason and earlier good resolutions. Through the force of habit, the former steadily approaches a state in which his desires are completely subdued. This state is called [Greek: sophrosyne], and the man in this state is called [Greek: sophron]. Through the same force of habit, reason’s protests in the latter grow weaker and weaker until they fall silent forever. This state is called [Greek: akolasia], and the man in this state is called [Greek: akolastos].

So then the Irrational is plainly twofold: the one part, the merely vegetative, has no share of Reason, but that of desire, or appetition generally, does partake of it in a sense, in so far as it is obedient to it and capable of submitting to its rule. (So too in common phrase we say we have λόγος of our father or friends, and this in a different sense from that in which we say we have λόγος of mathematics.)

So the irrational part clearly has two parts. One part, concerned only with growth and nourishment, has no share in reason. But the part concerned with desire, or appetite generally, does share in reason in a sense. It shares in reason insofar as it obeys reason and can submit to reason’s rule. (Similarly, in everyday speech, we say we have λόγος of our father or friends, meaning we listen to them. But we mean something different when we say we have λόγος of mathematics, meaning we understand it.)

This cannot be translated. The Greek phrase, [Greek: echein logon tinos], means adopting another person’s [Greek: logos] in place of one’s own. In the same way, the Irrational nature in someone with self-control or perfected self-mastery follows Reason’s commands instead of its own impulses. The other phrase means having mathematical truths stored in the mind, i.e. knowing them.

Now that the Irrational is in some way persuaded by the Reason, admonition, and every act of rebuke and exhortation indicate. If then we are to say that this also has Reason, then the Rational, as well as the Irrational, will be twofold, the one supremely and in itself, the other paying it a kind of filial regard.

Warnings and every act of rebuke and encouragement show that the irrational part is, in some way, persuaded by reason. If we say that this part also has reason, then the rational, like the irrational, will have two forms. One has reason fully and in itself. The other listens to reason with a kind of respect a child gives a parent.

The Excellence of Man then is divided in accordance with this difference: we make two classes, calling the one Intellectual, and the other Moral; pure science, intelligence, and practical wisdom—Intellectual: liberality, and perfected self-mastery—Moral: in speaking of a man’s Moral character, we do not say he is a scientific or intelligent but a meek man, or one of perfected self-mastery: and we praise the man of science in right of his mental state; and of these such as are praiseworthy we call Excellences.

Human excellence, then, is divided according to this distinction into two kinds: intellectual and moral. Pure science, intelligence, and practical wisdom are intellectual excellences. Generosity and complete self-mastery are moral excellences. When describing a man’s moral character, we do not call him scientific or intelligent. Instead, we call him gentle or say he has complete self-mastery. Yet we also praise a man of science for his state of mind. We call praiseworthy states of mind excellences.

[Greek: xin] may be understood as the opposite of [Greek: energeian]. This reading would distinguish moral from intellectual excellences. People are praised simply for having intellectual excellences, but only for putting moral excellences into practice.