Book 2

Well: human Excellence is of two kinds, Intellectual and Moral:¹ now the Intellectual springs originally, and is increased subsequently, from teaching (for the most part that is²), and needs therefore experience and time; whereas the Moral comes from custom, and so the Greek term denoting it is but a slight deflection from the term denoting custom in that language.

Well, human excellence comes in two kinds, intellectual and moral:¹ intellectual excellence begins and grows through teaching (for the most part²). So intellectual excellence requires experience and time. Moral excellence, however, comes from habit. Accordingly, the Greek word for moral excellence differs only slightly from the Greek word for habit.

From this fact it is plain that not one of the Moral Virtues comes to be in us merely by nature: because of such things as exist by nature, none can be changed by custom: a stone, for instance, by nature gravitating downwards, could never by custom be brought to ascend, not even if one were to try and accustom it by throwing it up ten thousand times; nor could file again be brought to descend, nor in fact could anything whose nature is in one way be brought by custom to be in another. The Virtues then come to be in us neither by nature, nor in despite of nature,³ but we are furnished by nature with a capacity for receiving themu and are perfected in them through custom.

From this fact, it is clear that none of the moral virtues develops in us merely by nature. This is because habit cannot change anything that exists by nature. A stone, for example, naturally falls downward. No habit could ever make it rise, even if someone tried training it by throwing it upward ten thousand times. Nor could fire be trained to move downward. In fact, nothing with one nature could be trained to have another. So the virtues develop in us neither by nature nor against nature,³ but nature gives us the capacity to acquire them. We perfect them through habit.

Again, in whatever cases we get things by nature, we get the faculties first and perform the acts of working afterwards; an illustration of which is afforded by the case of our bodily senses, for it was not from having often seen or heard that we got these senses, but just the reverse: we had them and so exercised them, but did not have them because we had exercised them. But the Virtues we get by first performing single acts of working, which, again, is the case of other things, as the arts for instance; for what we have to make when we have learned how, these we learn how to make by making: men come to be builders, for instance, by building; harp-players, by playing on the harp: exactly so, by doing just actions we come to be just; by doing the actions of self-mastery we come to be perfected in self-mastery; and by doing brave actions brave.

Again, when we gain abilities by nature, we have the abilities first and use them afterward. Our bodily senses provide an example. We did not gain sight or hearing by seeing or hearing often. Rather, we already had these senses and so used them. We did not have them because we had used them. But we acquire virtues by first performing individual actions, just as we learn skills such as the arts. We learn to make things by making them, even though making them is what we do once we have learned. For example, people become builders by building and harp players by playing the harp. In exactly the same way, we become just by doing just actions. We develop self-mastery by practicing self-mastery, and we become brave by doing brave actions.

And to the truth of this testimony is borne by what takes place in communities: because the law-givers make the individual members good men by habituation, and this is the intention certainly of every law-giver, and all who do not effect it well fail of their intent; and herein consists the difference between a good Constitution and a bad.

What happens in communities confirms the truth of this claim. For lawmakers make individual citizens good by forming their habits. This is certainly every lawmaker’s aim, and all who fail to do it well fail to achieve their aim. The difference between a good constitution and a bad one lies in this success or failure.

Again, every Virtue is either produced or destroyed from and by the very same circumstances: art too in like manner; I mean it is by playing the harp that both the good and the bad harp-players are formed: and similarly builders and all the rest; by building well men will become good builders; by doing it badly bad ones: in fact, if this had not been so, there would have been no need of instructors, but all men would have been at once good or bad in their several arts without them.

Again, every virtue is developed or destroyed by the very same circumstances. The same is true of skills. I mean that playing the harp produces both good and bad harp players. The same goes for builders and everyone else who practices a skill. People become good builders by building well, and bad builders by building badly. In fact, if skills did not develop this way, there would be no need for teachers. Everyone would be good or bad at their particular skills from the start, without instruction.

So too then is it with the Virtues: for by acting in the various relations in which we are thrown with our fellow men, we come to be, some just, some unjust: and by acting in dangerous positions and being habituated to feel fear or confidence, we come to be, some brave, others cowards.

The same is true of the virtues. Through our actions in our various relationships with others, some of us become just and some unjust. Likewise, through our actions in dangerous situations and our habits of feeling fear or confidence, some become brave, others cowardly.

Similarly is it also with respect to the occasions of lust and anger: for some men come to be perfected in self-mastery and mild, others destitute of all self-control and passionate; the one class by behaving in one way under them, the other by behaving in another. Or, in one word, the habits are produced from the acts of working like to them: and so what we have to do is to give a certain character to these particular acts, because the habits formed correspond to the differences of these.

The same is true of situations that stir lust and anger. Some people develop full self-control and a gentle temper, while others lose all self-control and become quick to anger. The first group develops by responding to these situations in one way, the second by responding in another. In short, habits are formed by actions of the same kind. So we must shape our particular actions, because differences in those actions produce corresponding differences in our habits.

So then, whether we are accustomed this way or that straight from childhood, makes not a small but an important difference, or rather I would say it makes all the difference.

So, the habits we develop from childhood make not just a small difference, but a major one. Or rather, I would say those habits make all the difference.

Since then the object of the present treatise is not mere speculation, as it is of some others (for we are enquiring not merely that we may know what virtue is but that we may become virtuous, else it would have been useless), we must consider as to the particular actions how we are to do them, because, as we have just said, the quality of the habits that shall be formed depends on these.

Unlike some other works, this study does not aim merely at theoretical understanding. For we are investigating virtue not merely to know what virtue is, but to become virtuous. Otherwise, the study would have been useless. So we must consider how to carry out particular actions. As we have just said, the quality of the habits we form depends on these actions.

Now, that we are to act in accordance with Right Reason is a general maxim, and may for the present be taken for granted: we will speak of it hereafter, and say both what Right Reason is, and what are its relations to the other virtues.⁴

That we should act according to Right Reason is a general principle we may take for granted for now. We will discuss Right Reason later, explaining what it is and how it relates to the other virtues.⁴

But let this point be first thoroughly understood between us, that all which can be said on moral action must be said in outline, as it were, and not exactly: for as we remarked at the commencement, such reasoning only must be required as the nature of the subject-matter admits of, and matters of moral action and expediency have no fixedness any more than matters of health. And if the subject in its general maxims is such, still less in its application to particular cases is exactness attainable:⁵ because these fall not under any art or system of rules, but it must be left in each instance to the individual agents to look to the exigencies of the particular case, as it is in the art of healing, or that of navigating a ship. Still, though the present subject is confessedly such, we must try and do what we can for it.

But first, let us be clear on this point: all discussion of moral action must offer outlines rather than exact accounts. As we said at the beginning, we should require only as much precision as the subject allows. Questions of moral action and what is beneficial have no fixed answers, any more than questions of health do. And if even the general principles lack precision, applying them to particular cases allows still less precision:⁵ because no art or system of rules covers these cases. Instead, those acting must judge for themselves what each situation requires, just as in medicine or navigation. Still, although we admit these limits in our subject, we must try to do what we can.

First then this must be noted, that it is the nature of such things to be spoiled by defect and excess; as we see in the case of health and strength (since for the illustration of things which cannot be seen we must use those that can), for excessive training impairs the strength as well as deficient: meat and drink, in like manner, in too great or too small quantities, impair the health: while in due proportion they cause, increase, and preserve it.

First, we must note that things of this kind are ruined by both too little and too much. We see this with health and strength. To explain things we cannot see, we must use things we can see. Both too much training and too little training weaken us. Likewise, too much or too little food and drink damage our health. But in the right amounts, food and drink create, improve, and preserve health.

Thus it is therefore with the habits of perfected Self-Mastery and Courage and the rest of the Virtues: for the man who flies from and fears all things, and never stands up against anything, comes to be a coward; and he who fears nothing, but goes at everything, comes to be rash. In like manner too, he that tastes of every pleasure and abstains from none comes to lose all self-control; while he who avoids all, as do the dull and clownish, comes as it were to lose his faculties of perception: that is to say, the habits of perfected Self-Mastery and Courage are spoiled by the excess and defect, but by the mean state are preserved.

The same is true, then, of the habits of complete self-mastery, courage, and the other virtues. For a man who runs from and fears everything, and never stands his ground against anything, becomes a coward. But a man who fears nothing and rushes into everything becomes reckless. Likewise, a man who indulges in every pleasure and abstains from none loses all self-control. But a man who avoids all pleasures, like dull and uncultured people, seems to lose his ability to feel. In other words, excess and deficiency destroy the habits of complete self-mastery and courage, while a balanced state preserves them.

Furthermore, not only do the origination, growth, and marring of the habits come from and by the same circumstances, but also the acts of working after the habits are formed will be exercised on the same: for so it is also with those other things which are more directly matters of sight, strength for instance: for this comes by taking plenty of food and doing plenty of work, and the man who has attained strength is best able to do these: and so it is with the Virtues, for not only do we by abstaining from pleasures come to be perfected in Self-Mastery, but when we have come to be so we can best abstain from them: similarly too with Courage: for it is by accustoming ourselves to despise objects of fear and stand up against them that we come to be brave; and after we have come to be so we shall be best able to stand up against such objects.

Furthermore, the same circumstances create, develop, and damage our habits. Once our habits are formed, we also exercise them in those same circumstances. The same is true of more directly observable qualities, such as strength. Strength comes from eating plenty of food and doing plenty of work. And a man who has become strong is best able to do both. So it is with the virtues. By abstaining from pleasures, we become fully self-controlled. Once we have achieved self-control, we are best able to abstain from pleasures. The same is true of courage. We become brave by getting used to disregarding things that cause fear and standing up to them. Once we have become brave, we are best able to stand up to those things.

And for a test of the formation of the habits we must take the pleasure or pain which succeeds the acts; for he is perfected in Self-Mastery who not only abstains from the bodily pleasures but is glad to do so; whereas he who abstains but is sorry to do it has not Self-Mastery: he again is brave who stands up against danger, either with positive pleasure or at least without any pain; whereas he who does it with pain is not brave.⁶

And to test how habits have formed, we must consider the pleasure or pain that follows our actions. Someone has fully developed Self-Mastery when they not only avoid bodily pleasures but are glad to do so. But someone who avoids bodily pleasures reluctantly lacks Self-Mastery. Likewise, someone is brave if they face danger with pleasure, or at least without pain. But someone who faces danger with pain is not brave.⁶

For Moral Virtue has for its object-matter pleasures and pains, because by reason of pleasure we do what is bad, and by reason of pain decline doing what is right (for which cause, as Plato observes, men should have been trained straight from their childhood to receive pleasure and pain from proper objects, for this is the right education). Again: since Virtues have to do with actions and feelings, and on every feeling and every action pleasure and pain follow, here again is another proof that Virtue has for its object-matter pleasure and pain. The same is shown also by the fact that punishments are effected through the instrumentality of these; because they are of the nature of remedies, and it is the nature of remedies to be the contraries of the ills they cure. Again, to quote what we said before: every habit of the Soul by its very nature has relation to, and exerts itself upon, things of the same kind as those by which it is naturally deteriorated or improved: now such habits do come to be vicious by reason of pleasures and pains, that is, by men pursuing or avoiding respectively, either such as they ought not, or at wrong times, or in wrong manner, and so forth (for which reason, by the way, some people define the Virtues as certain states of impassibility and utter quietude,⁷ but they are wrong because they speak without modification, instead of adding “as they ought,” “as they ought not,” and “when,” and so on). Virtue then is assumed to be that habit which is such, in relation to pleasures and pains, as to effect the best results, and Vice the contrary.

Moral virtue concerns pleasures and pains, because pleasure leads us to do wrong, and pain keeps us from doing right. For this reason, as Plato observes, people should be trained from childhood to enjoy and dislike the right things. This is the right education. Again, virtues concern actions and feelings, and every feeling and action is followed by pleasure and pain. This is further proof that virtue concerns pleasure and pain. Punishments also show this, because punishments use pleasure and pain as remedies. Remedies work by opposing the ills they cure. Again, as we said before, every habit of the soul naturally concerns and acts upon certain kinds of things. These are the same kinds of things that naturally make the habit better or worse. Such habits become vicious because of pleasures and pains. People pursue or avoid pleasures and pains they should not, or do so at the wrong times or in the wrong way. The same applies to other such mistakes. For this reason, incidentally, some people define virtues as states of freedom from feeling and complete calm.⁷ But these people are wrong because their definition leaves out necessary qualifications. They should add “as they ought,” “as they ought not,” and “when,” and so on. Virtue, then, is taken to be the habit that produces the best results in relation to pleasures and pains. Vice is the opposite.

The following considerations may also serve to set this in a clear light. There are principally three things moving us to choice and three to avoidance, the honourable, the expedient, the pleasant; and their three contraries, the dishonourable, the hurtful, and the painful: now the good man is apt to go right, and the bad man wrong, with respect to all these of course, but most specially with respect to pleasure: because not only is this common to him with all animals but also it is a concomitant of all those things which move to choice, since both the honourable and the expedient give an impression of pleasure.

The following points may also help make this clear. Three things mainly lead us to choose: what is honorable, what is useful, and what is pleasant. Their three opposites lead us to avoid things: what is dishonorable, what is harmful, and what is painful. A good person tends to judge all these correctly, and a bad person incorrectly, especially when it comes to pleasure. This is because humans share pleasure with all animals, and pleasure also accompanies everything that leads us to choose. For both what is honorable and what is useful seem pleasant.

Again, it grows up with us all from infancy, and so it is a hard matter to remove from ourselves this feeling, engrained as it is into our very life.

Again, this feeling develops in all of us from infancy. So it is hard to rid ourselves of this feeling, because it is deeply ingrained in our lives.

Again, we adopt pleasure and pain (some of us more, and some less) as the measure even of actions: for this cause then our whole business must be with them, since to receive right or wrong impressions of pleasure and pain is a thing of no little importance in respect of the actions. Once more; it is harder, as Heraclitus says, to fight against pleasure than against anger: now it is about that which is more than commonly difficult that art comes into being, and virtue too, because in that which is difficult the good is of a higher order: and so for this reason too both virtue and moral philosophy generally must wholly busy themselves respecting pleasures and pains, because he that uses these well will be good, he that does so ill will be bad.

Again, we use pleasure and pain to judge even our actions, some of us more than others. For this reason, our whole concern must be with pleasure and pain. Responding rightly or wrongly to pleasure and pain makes a significant difference to our actions. Moreover, as Heraclitus says, fighting pleasure is harder than fighting anger. Skills develop to meet unusually difficult challenges, and so does virtue, because doing well is more valuable when difficulties are greater. For this reason too, both virtue and moral philosophy in general must focus entirely on pleasure and pain. Whoever handles pleasure and pain well will be good, and whoever handles them badly will be bad.

Let us then be understood to have stated, that Virtue has for its object-matter pleasures and pains, and that it is either increased or marred by the same circumstances (differently used) by which it is originally generated, and that it exerts itself on the same circumstances out of which it was generated.

Let us take it as established, then, that virtue concerns pleasures and pains. The same circumstances that first produce virtue also strengthen or damage it, depending on how those circumstances are used. And virtue is exercised in the same circumstances that first produced it.

Now I can conceive a person perplexed as to the meaning of our statement, that men must do just actions to become just, and those of self-mastery to acquire the habit of self-mastery; “for,” he would say, “if men are doing the actions they have the respective virtues already, just as men are grammarians or musicians when they do the actions of either art.” May we not reply by saying that it is not so even in the case of the arts referred to: because a man may produce something grammatical either by chance or the suggestion of another; but then only will he be a grammarian when he not only produces something grammatical but does so grammarian-wise, i.e. in virtue of the grammatical knowledge he himself possesses.

I can imagine someone being puzzled by our claim about justice and self-mastery. We say people must act justly to become just, and practice self-mastery to make self-mastery a habit. “For,” he might say, “if people perform these actions, they already have the corresponding virtues. Just so, people are grammarians or musicians when they practice either art.” Could we not reply that even in these arts, performing an action is not enough? Someone may produce something grammatically correct by chance or at someone else’s suggestion. But he will be a grammarian only when he produces something grammatically correct as a grammarian would, that is, by using his own knowledge of grammar.

Again, the cases of the arts and the virtues are not parallel: because those things which are produced by the arts have their excellence in themselves, and it is sufficient therefore that these when produced should be in a certain state: but those which are produced in the way of the virtues, are, strictly speaking, actions of a certain kind (say of Justice or perfected Self-Mastery), not merely if in themselves they are in a certain state but if also he who does them does them being himself in a certain state, first if knowing what he is doing, next if with deliberate preference, and with such preference for the things’ own sake; and thirdly if being himself stable and unapt to change. Now to constitute possession of the arts these requisites are not reckoned in, excepting the one point of knowledge: whereas for possession of the virtues knowledge avails little or nothing, but the other requisites avail not a little, but, in fact, are all in all, and these requisites as a matter of fact do come from oftentimes doing the actions of Justice and perfected Self-Mastery.

Again, the arts and the virtues are not alike in this respect. Products of the arts have their excellence in themselves. So it is enough that the finished products meet the right standards. But actions expressing virtue, such as Justice or perfected Self-Mastery, require more. Strictly speaking, such actions are not just or self-controlled merely because the actions themselves have the right qualities. The person acting must also be in the right state. First, the person must know what they are doing. Next, they must deliberately choose the actions, and choose them for their own sake. Third, they must act from a stable character that is not easily changed. Now, mastery of an art does not require these conditions, except for knowledge. But knowledge counts for little or nothing in possessing virtue. The other conditions count not just for a great deal, but for everything. And these conditions do in fact develop through repeatedly performing acts of Justice and perfected Self-Mastery.

The facts,⁸ it is true, are called by the names of these habits when they are such as the just or perfectly self-mastering man would do; but he is not in possession of the virtues who merely does these facts, but he who also so does them as the just and self-mastering do them.

Actions,⁸ it is true, are called just or self-controlled when a just or perfectly self-controlled person would perform them. But merely performing these actions does not mean a person has these virtues. The person must also act in the way that just and self-controlled people do.

We are right then in saying, that these virtues are formed in a man by his doing the actions; but no one, if he should leave them undone, would be even in the way to become a good man. Yet people in general do not perform these actions, but taking refuge in talk they flatter themselves they are philosophising, and that they will so be good men: acting in truth very like those sick people who listen to the doctor with great attention but do nothing that he tells them: just as these then cannot be well bodily under such a course of treatment, so neither can those be mentally by such philosophising.

We are right, then, to say that people develop these virtues by performing the actions that express them. But anyone who leaves these actions undone would not even be on the way to becoming a good person. Yet people generally do not perform these actions. Instead, they take refuge in talk, flattering themselves that they are practicing philosophy and will become good people through it. In fact, they act very much like sick people who listen carefully to their doctor but follow none of the instructions. Just as these patients cannot become physically healthy by following such a course, neither can these talkers become mentally healthy through such philosophizing.

Next, we must examine what Virtue is.⁹ Well, since the things which come to be in the mind are, in all, of three kinds, Feelings, Capacities, States, Virtue of course must belong to one of the three classes.

Next, we must examine what virtue is.⁹ Everything that arises in the mind falls into three categories: feelings, capacities, and states. So virtue must, of course, belong to one of these three categories.

By Feelings, I mean such as lust, anger, fear, confidence, envy, joy, friendship, hatred, longing, emulation, compassion, in short all such as are followed by pleasure or pain: by Capacities, those in right of which we are said to be capable of these feelings; as by virtue of which we are able to have been made angry, or grieved, or to have compassionated; by States, those in right of which we are in a certain relation good or bad to the aforementioned feelings; to having been made angry, for instance, we are in a wrong relation if in our anger we were too violent or too slack, but if we were in the happy medium we are in a right relation to the feeling. And so on of the rest.

By Feelings, I mean lust, anger, fear, confidence, envy, joy, friendship, hatred, longing, a desire to rival others, and compassion. In short, I mean all feelings followed by pleasure or pain. By Capacities, I mean the abilities that allow us to experience these feelings. For example, we can become angry, feel grief, or feel compassion. By States, I mean the ways we are well or badly disposed toward these feelings. For example, we are badly disposed toward anger if our anger is too intense or too weak. But if our anger falls between these extremes, we are well disposed toward the feeling. The same applies to the other feelings.

Now Feelings neither the virtues nor vices are, because in right of the Feelings we are not denominated either good or bad, but in right of the virtues and vices we are.

Now, virtues and vices are not feelings, because we are not called good or bad because of our feelings. But we are called good or bad because of our virtues and vices.

Again, in right of the Feelings we are neither praised nor blamed,¹⁰ (for a man is not commended for being afraid or being angry, nor blamed for being angry merely but for being so in a particular way), but in right of the virtues and vices we are.

Again, we are neither praised nor blamed for our feelings.¹⁰ (For a person is not praised for being afraid or angry. Nor is a person blamed merely for being angry, but for being angry in a particular way.) But we are praised or blamed for our virtues and vices.

Again, both anger and fear we feel without moral choice, whereas the virtues are acts of moral choice, or at least certainly not independent of it.

Again, we feel both anger and fear without choosing to. But virtues are acts of moral choice, or at least certainly depend on moral choice.

Moreover, in right of the Feelings we are said to be moved, but in right of the virtues and vices not to be moved, but disposed, in a certain way.

Moreover, we are said to be moved by our feelings. But our virtues and vices do not move us. Instead, they dispose us to act or feel in certain ways.

And for these same reasons they are not Capacities, for we are not called good or bad merely because we are able to feel, nor are we praised or blamed.

And for these same reasons, they are not capacities. We are not called good or bad merely because we can feel, nor are we praised or blamed for it.

And again, Capacities we have by nature, but we do not come to be good or bad by nature, as we have said before.

Again, we have our abilities by nature. But we do not become good or bad by nature, as we have said before.

Since then the virtues are neither Feelings nor Capacities, it remains that they must be States.

Since virtues are neither feelings nor capacities, they must be states of character.

Now what the genus of Virtue is has been said; but we must not merely speak of it thus, that it is a state but say also what kind of a state it is.

We have now identified the general category Virtue belongs to. But we must not just say that Virtue is a state. We must also say what kind of state Virtue is.

We must observe then that all excellence makes that whereof it is the excellence both to be itself in a good state and to perform its work well. The excellence of the eye, for instance, makes both the eye good and its work also: for by the excellence of the eye we see well. So too the excellence of the horse makes a horse good, and good in speed, and in carrying his rider, and standing up against the enemy. If then this is universally the case, the excellence of Man, i.e. Virtue, must be a state whereby Man comes to be good and whereby he will perform well his proper work. Now how this shall be it is true we have said already, but still perhaps it may throw light on the subject to see what is its characteristic nature.

We must recognize, then, that all excellence puts whatever possesses it in good condition and makes it function well. For example, the excellence of the eye makes both the eye and its work good. For the eye’s excellence allows us to see well. Likewise, the excellence of a horse makes the horse good. It makes the horse good at running, carrying its rider, and standing firm against the enemy. If this holds in every case, human excellence, or virtue, must be a state that makes people good. It must also enable them to perform their proper work well. We have already explained how virtue does this. But perhaps examining virtue’s distinctive nature may shed more light on the subject.

In all quantity then, whether continuous or discrete,¹¹ one may take the greater part, the less, or the exactly equal, and these either with reference to the thing itself, or relatively to us: and the exactly equal is a mean between excess and defect. Now by the mean of the thing, i.e. absolute mean, I denote that which is equidistant from either extreme (which of course is one and the same to all), and by the mean relatively to ourselves, that which is neither too much nor too little for the particular individual. This of course is not one nor the same to all: for instance, suppose ten is too much and two too little, people take six for the absolute mean; because it exceeds the smaller sum by exactly as much as it is itself exceeded by the larger, and this mean is according to arithmetical proportion.¹²

In all quantities, then, whether continuous or discrete,¹¹ we may take a greater amount, a smaller amount, or an exactly equal amount. We may measure these amounts either against the thing itself or in relation to ourselves. The exactly equal amount is a mean between excess and deficiency. By the mean of the thing, that is, the absolute mean, I mean the amount equally distant from both extremes. This absolute mean is, of course, the same for everyone. By the mean relative to ourselves, I mean the amount neither too much nor too little for a particular individual. This relative mean is, of course, not a single amount that is the same for everyone. For example, suppose ten is too much and two is too little. People take six as the absolute mean because six exceeds two by exactly as much as ten exceeds six. This mean follows an arithmetic proportion.¹²

But the mean relatively to ourselves must not be so found ; for it does not follow, supposing ten minæ¹³ is too large a quantity to eat and two too small, that the trainer will order his man six; because for the person who is to take it this also may be too much or too little: for Milo it would be too little, but for a man just commencing his athletic exercises too much: similarly too of the exercises themselves, as running or wrestling.

But the mean relative to ourselves cannot be found this way. Suppose ten minæ¹³ is too much to eat and two too little. It does not follow that the trainer will prescribe six for his athlete. For six minæ may also be too much or too little for the person eating it. For Milo, six minæ would be too little, but for someone just beginning athletic training, too much. The same applies to the exercises themselves, such as running or wrestling.

So then it seems every one possessed of skill avoids excess and defect, but seeks for and chooses the mean, not the absolute but the relative.

So it seems that everyone with a skill avoids too much and too little, but seeks and chooses the middle. Not an absolute middle, but one relative to the situation.

Now if all skill thus accomplishes well its work by keeping an eye on the mean, and bringing the works to this point (whence it is common enough to say of such works as are in a good state, “one cannot add to or take ought from them,” under the notion of excess or defect destroying goodness but the mean state preserving it), and good artisans, as we say, work with their eye on this, and excellence, like nature, is more exact and better than any art in the world, it must have an aptitude to aim at the mean.

Now suppose all skill does its work well by aiming at the mean and bringing its products to that point. This is why people often say of well-made works, “nothing can be added or taken away.” The idea is that excess or deficiency destroys goodness, while the mean preserves goodness. And good artisans, as we say, work with the mean in view. Excellence, like nature, is more precise and better than any art. So excellence must have a natural capacity to aim at the mean.

It is moral excellence, i.e. Virtue, of course which I mean, because this it is which is concerned with feelings and actions, and in these there can be excess and defect and the mean: it is possible, for instance, to feel the emotions of fear, confidence, lust, anger, compassion, and pleasure and pain generally, too much or too little, and in either case wrongly; but to feel them when we ought, on what occasions, towards whom, why, and as, we should do, is the mean, or in other words the best state, and this is the property of Virtue.

Of course, I mean moral excellence, that is, Virtue, because Virtue concerns feelings and actions. Both feelings and actions can involve too much, too little, or a proper balance. For example, we can feel fear, confidence, lust, anger, compassion, and pleasure and pain generally too much or too little. Either extreme is wrong. But the proper balance is to feel these emotions when we should, on the right occasions, and toward the right people. We must also feel them for the right reasons and in the right way. This balance is the best state, and it is the defining quality of Virtue.

In like manner too with respect to the actions, there may be excess and defect and the mean. Now Virtue is concerned with feelings and actions, in which the excess is wrong and the defect is blamed but the mean is praised and goes right; and both these circumstances belong to Virtue. Virtue then is in a sense a mean state, since it certainly has an aptitude for aiming at the mean.

Similarly, actions may involve too much, too little, or a middle ground. Virtue concerns feelings and actions. In both, too much is wrong and too little deserves blame, but the middle ground is praised and is right. Both praise and rightness belong to virtue. Virtue, then, is in a sense a middle state, since it certainly tends to aim at the middle ground.

Again, one may go wrong in many different ways (because, as the Pythagoreans expressed it, evil is of the class of the infinite, good of the finite), but right only in one; and so the former is easy, the latter difficult; easy to miss the mark, but hard to hit it: and for these reasons, therefore, both the excess and defect belong to Vice, and the mean state to Virtue; for, as the poet has it,

Again, we can go wrong in many different ways. This is because, as the Pythagoreans put it, evil belongs to the infinite, and good to the finite. But we can go right in only one way. So going wrong is easy, while going right is difficult. It is easy to miss the mark, but hard to hit it. For these reasons, both excess and deficiency belong to Vice, while the balanced state between them belongs to Virtue. For, as the poet says,

Virtue then is “a state apt to exercise deliberate choice, being in the relative mean, determined by reason, and¹⁴ as the man of practical wisdom would determine.”

Virtue, then, is “a disposition to make deliberate choices that finds a relative middle ground. This middle ground is determined by reason, and¹⁴ as a person with practical wisdom would determine it.”

It is a middle state between too faulty ones, in the way of excess on one side and of defect on the other: and it is so moreover, because the faulty states on one side fall short of, and those on the other exceed, what is right, both in the case of the feelings and the actions; but Virtue finds, and when found adopts, the mean.

It is a middle state between two faulty states, one of excess and the other of deficiency. It is also a middle state because one faulty state falls short of what is right, while the other exceeds it. This applies to both feelings and actions. But Virtue finds the middle ground and, once found, adopts it.

And so, viewing it in respect of its essence and definition, Virtue is a mean state; but in reference to the chief good and to excellence it is the highest state possible.

So, in its essential nature and definition, virtue is a middle state. But in terms of the highest good and excellence, virtue is the highest possible state.

But it must not be supposed that every action or every feeling is capable of subsisting in this mean state, because some there are which are so named as immediately to convey the notion of badness, as malevolence, shamelessness, envy; or, to instance in actions, adultery, theft, homicide; for all these and suchlike are blamed because they are in themselves bad, not the having too much or too little of them.

But we must not assume that every action or feeling can have a balanced middle state. Some feelings have names that immediately suggest badness, such as malice, shamelessness, and envy. Examples of such actions include adultery, theft, and homicide. For all these and similar actions and feelings are condemned because they are bad in themselves. The problem is not having too much or too little of them.

In these then you never can go right, but must always be wrong: nor in such does the right or wrong depend on the selection of a proper person, time, or manner (take adultery for instance), but simply doing any one soever of those things is being wrong.

With these actions, then, you can never be right. You must always be wrong. Nor does right or wrong depend on choosing the right person, time, or way of acting. Take adultery, for instance. Simply doing any one of these things is wrong.

You might as well require that there should be determined a mean state, an excess and a defect in respect of acting unjustly, being cowardly, or giving up all control of the passions: for at this rate there will be of excess and defect a mean state; of excess, excess; and of defect, defect.

You might as well demand a middle ground, an excess, and a deficiency in injustice, cowardice, or complete self-indulgence. For by that reasoning, excess and deficiency would themselves have a middle ground. Excess would have its own excess, and deficiency its own deficiency.

But just as of perfected self-mastery and courage there is no excess and defect, because the mean is in one point of view the highest possible state, so neither of those faulty states can you have a mean state, excess, or defect, but howsoever done they are wrong: you cannot, in short, have of excess and defect a mean state, nor of a mean state excess and defect.

But perfect self-mastery and courage have neither excess nor deficiency, because the mean is, in one sense, the highest possible state. Likewise, neither of those faulty states has a mean, an excess, or a deficiency. However you act in those faulty states, you act wrongly. In short, excess and deficiency cannot have a mean, and a mean cannot have excess or deficiency.

It is not enough, however, to state this in general terms, we must also apply it to particular instances, because in treatises on moral conduct general statements have an air of vagueness, but those which go into detail one of greater reality: for the actions after all must be in detail, and the general statements, to be worth anything, must hold good here.

However, stating this in general terms is not enough. We must also apply it to specific cases, because general statements about moral conduct tend to seem vague. But detailed discussions seem more grounded in reality. After all, actions always involve specific situations, and general statements must hold true in those situations to have any value.

We must take these details then from the well-known scheme.¹⁵

So we must take these details from the familiar outline.¹⁵

I. In respect of fears and confidence or boldness:

I. Regarding fear and confidence or boldness:

The Mean state is Courage: men may exceed, of course, either in absence of fear or in positive confidence: the former has no name (which is a common case), the latter is called rash: again, the man who has too much fear and too little confidence is called a coward.

Courage is the balanced state. Men may, of course, go too far either in lacking fear or in feeling confident. There is no name for the first extreme (as is often the case). A man with excessive confidence is called rash. In turn, a man with too much fear and too little confidence is called a coward.

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

II. Concerning pleasures and pains (but not all, and perhaps fewer pains than pleasures):

The Mean state here is perfected Self-Mastery, the defect total absence of Self-control. As for defect in respect of pleasure, there are really no people who are chargeable with it, so, of course, there is really no name for such characters, but, as they are conceivable, we will give them one and call them insensible.

The balanced state here is complete self-mastery. The deficient state is a total lack of self-control. As for too little pleasure, no one really has this failing. So, of course, there is no name for such people. But since such people are conceivable, we will give them a name and call them insensible.

III. In respect of giving and taking wealth¹⁶ (a):

III. On giving and receiving wealth¹⁶ (a):

The mean state is Liberality, the excess Prodigality, the defect Stinginess: here each of the extremes involves really an excess and defect contrary to each other: I mean, the prodigal gives out too much and takes in too little, while the stingy man takes in too much and gives out too little. (It must be understood that we are now giving merely an outline and summary, intentionally: and we will, in a later part of the treatise, draw out the distinctions with greater exactness.)

The balanced state is generosity, the excess is wastefulness, and the deficiency is stinginess. Each extreme actually involves both excess and deficiency, but in opposite ways. I mean that the wasteful person gives too much and takes too little. The stingy person takes too much and gives too little. (We are deliberately giving only an outline and summary here. Later in this work, we will explain the distinctions more precisely.)

IV. In respect of wealth (b):

IV. Regarding wealth (b):

There are other dispositions besides these just mentioned; a mean state called Munificence (for the munificent man differs from the liberal, the former having necessarily to do with great wealth, the latter with but small); the excess called by the names either of Want of taste or Vulgar Profusion, and the defect Paltriness (these also differ from the extremes connected with liberality, and the manner of their difference shall also be spoken of later).

There are other dispositions besides those just mentioned. One balanced state is called Munificence (the munificent man differs from the generous man. The former necessarily deals with great wealth, while the latter deals with only small amounts). The excess is called either Want of taste or Vulgar Profusion, and the deficiency is called Paltriness. These extremes also differ from the extremes associated with generosity. How they differ will also be discussed later.

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

V. Concerning honour and dishonour (a):

The mean state Greatness of Soul, the excess which may be called χαυνότης,¹⁷ and the defect Littleness of Soul.

The balanced state is Greatness of Soul. The excess may be called χαυνότης,¹⁷ and the deficiency is Littleness of Soul.

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

VI. Regarding honor and dishonor (b):

Now there is a state bearing the same relation to Greatness of Soul as we said just now Liberality does to Munificence, with the difference that is of being about a small amount of the same thing: this state having reference to small honour, as Greatness of Soul to great honour; a man may, of course, grasp at honour either more than he should or less; now he that exceeds in his grasping at it is called ambitious, he that falls short unambitious, he that is just as he should be has no proper name: nor in fact have the states, except that the disposition of the ambitious man is called ambition. For this reason those who are in either extreme lay claim to the mean as a debateable land, and we call the virtuous character sometimes by the name ambitious,¹⁸ sometimes by that of unambitious, and we commend sometimes the one and sometimes the other. Why we do it shall be said in the subsequent part of the treatise; but now we will go on with the rest of the virtues after the plan we have laid down.

There is another state related to Greatness of Soul just as Liberality, as we said, is related to Munificence. The difference is that this state concerns a smaller amount of the same thing. It concerns small honours, while Greatness of Soul concerns great honours. A man may, of course, seek honour more or less than he should. A man who seeks too much is called ambitious, and one who seeks too little is called unambitious. The man who seeks the right amount has no specific name. Nor do these states have names, except that the ambitious man’s disposition is called ambition. For this reason, people at either extreme claim the middle ground as disputed territory. And we sometimes call the virtuous person ambitious,¹⁸ and sometimes unambitious. Sometimes we praise ambition, and sometimes we praise its absence. We will explain why later in this work. For now, we will move on to the remaining virtues, following the plan we have laid out.

VII. In respect of anger:

VII. Concerning anger:

Here too there is excess, defect, and a mean state; but since they may be said to have really no proper names, as we call the virtuous character Meek, we will call the mean state Meekness, and of the extremes, let the man who is excessive be denominated Passionate, and the faulty state Passionateness, and him who is deficient Angerless, and the defect Angerlessness.

Here too there is excess, deficiency, and a balanced state. But these states may be said to have no proper names. Since we call the virtuous person Meek, we will call the balanced state Meekness. Of the extremes, let us call the man with excessive anger Passionate, and his fault Passionateness. Let us call the man who lacks anger Angerless, and his deficiency Angerlessness.

There are also three other mean states, having some mutual resemblance, but still with differences; they are alike in that they all have for their object-matter intercourse of words and deeds, and they differ in that one has respect to truth herein, the other two to what is pleasant; and this in two ways, the one in relaxation and amusement, the other in all things which occur in daily life. We must say a word or two about these also, that we may the better see that in all matters the mean is praiseworthy, while the extremes are neither right nor worthy of praise but of blame.

There are also three other balanced states, similar in some ways but different in others. All three concern our interactions through words and actions. But one concerns truth in these interactions, while the other two concern what is pleasant. Of these two, one concerns relaxation and amusement, and the other concerns everything that happens in daily life. We must briefly discuss these states too, so we can better see that balance deserves praise in all matters. Extremes, however, are neither right nor worthy of praise, but deserve blame.

Now of these, it is true, the majority have really no proper names, but still we must try, as in the other cases, to coin some for them for the sake of clearness and intelligibleness.

Most of these do, in fact, have no specific names. But, as in the other cases, we must try to create names for clarity and ease of understanding.

I. In respect of truth:

I. Regarding truth:

The man who is in the mean state we will call Truthful, and his state Truthfulness, and as to the disguise of truth, if it be on the side of exaggeration, Braggadocia, and him that has it a Braggadocio; if on that of diminution, Reserve and Reserved shall be the terms.

We will call the man who takes the middle ground Truthful, and his quality Truthfulness. If someone distorts the truth by exaggerating, we will call this Braggadocia, and the person a Braggadocio. If someone distorts the truth by understating, we will use the terms Reserve and Reserved.

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

II. Concerning the pleasures of relaxation or amusement.

The mean state shall be called Easy-pleasantry, and the character accordingly a man of Easy-pleasantry; the excess Buffoonery, and the man a Buffoon; the man deficient herein a Clown, and his state Clownishness.

We shall call the balanced state Easy-pleasantry. A man with this character is a man of Easy-pleasantry. The excess is Buffoonery, and a man who goes to excess is a Buffoon. A man who lacks pleasantry is a Clown, and his state is Clownishness.

III. In respect of what is pleasant in daily life.

III. Concerning what is pleasant in everyday life.

He that is as he should be may be called Friendly, and his mean state Friendliness: he that exceeds, if it be without any interested motive, somewhat too Complaisant, if with such motive, a Flatterer: he that is deficient and in all instances unpleasant, Quarrelsome and Cross.

Someone who behaves as they should may be called friendly, and their balanced disposition may be called friendliness. Someone who goes too far without a self-interested motive is somewhat too eager to please. If they go too far out of self-interest, they are a flatterer. Someone who falls short and is unpleasant in every situation is quarrelsome and bad-tempered.

There are mean states likewise in feelings and matters concerning them. Shamefacedness, for instance, is no virtue, still a man is praised for being shamefaced: for in these too the one is denominated the man in the mean state, the other in the excess; the Dumbfoundered, for instance, who is overwhelmed with shame on all and any occasions: the man who is in the defect, i.e. who has no shame at all in his composition, is called Shameless: but the right character Shamefaced.

There are also balanced states in feelings and in matters involving feelings. Shamefacedness, for example, is not a virtue, but a man is still praised for being shamefaced. Here too, one man is described as balanced, while another goes to excess. The Dumbfoundered, for example, is overwhelmed with shame on every occasion. The man who falls short, that is, who has no shame at all, is called Shameless. But the man with the right character is called Shamefaced.

Indignation against successful vice,¹⁹ again, is a state in the mean between Envy and Malevolence: they all three have respect to pleasure and pain produced by what happens to one’s neighbour: for the man who has this right feeling is annoyed at undeserved success of others, while the envious man goes beyond him and is annoyed at all success of others, and the malevolent falls so far short of feeling annoyance that he even rejoices [at misfortune of others].again, is a state in the mean between Envy and Malevolence: they all three have respect to pleasure and pain produced by what happens to one’s neighbour: for the man who has this right feeling is annoyed at undeserved success of others, while the envious man goes beyond him and is annoyed at all success of others, and the malevolent falls so far short of feeling annoyance that he even rejoices [at misfortune of others].

Indignation at the success of wrongdoing,¹⁹ again, is a middle ground between Envy and Malevolence. All three concern the pleasure and pain caused by what happens to other people. A person with the right feeling is upset by other people’s undeserved success. An envious person goes further and is upset by all success that others enjoy. A malevolent person falls so far short of being upset that they even rejoice [at other people’s misfortune]. Again, indignation is a middle ground between Envy and Malevolence. All three concern the pleasure and pain caused by what happens to other people. A person with the right feeling is upset by other people’s undeserved success. An envious person goes further and is upset by all success that others enjoy. A malevolent person falls so far short of being upset that they even rejoice [at other people’s misfortune].

But for the discussion of these also there will be another opportunity, as of Justice too, because the term is used in more senses than one. So after this we will go accurately into each and say how they are mean states: and in like manner also with respect to the Intellectual Excellences.

But there will be another opportunity to discuss these matters, and Justice too, because Justice has more than one meaning. So later we will examine each closely and explain how each is a mean state. We will do the same for the Intellectual Excellences.

Now as there are three states in each case, two faulty either in the way of excess or defect, and one right, which is the mean state, of course all are in a way opposed to one another; the extremes, for instance, not only to the mean but also to one another, and the mean to the extremes: for just as the half is greater if compared with the less portion, and less if compared with the greater, so the mean states, compared with the defects, exceed, whether in feelings or actions, and vice versa. The brave man, for instance, shows as rash when compared with the coward, and cowardly when compared with the rash; similarly too the man of perfected self-mastery, viewed in comparison with the man destitute of all perception, shows like a man of no self-control, but in comparison with the man who really has no self-control, he looks like one destitute of all perception: and the liberal man compared with the stingy seems prodigal, and by the side of the prodigal, stingy.

In each case, there are three states. Two are faults, one involving excess and the other deficiency. The third is right and lies between the extremes. So all three are, in a way, opposed to one another. The extremes oppose not only the middle state but also each other, and the middle state opposes both extremes. For just as half is greater than a smaller portion, half is smaller than a larger portion. Similarly, middle states involve more feeling or action than states of deficiency, and the reverse compared with states of excess. For example, a brave person seems reckless compared with a coward, but cowardly compared with a reckless person. Similarly, someone with complete self-control seems to lack self-control compared with someone who feels no pleasure at all. But compared with someone who truly lacks self-control, the self-controlled person seems to feel no pleasure at all. And a generous person seems wasteful compared with a stingy person, but stingy compared with a wasteful person.

And so the extreme characters push away, so to speak, towards each other the man in the mean state; the brave man is called a rash man by the coward, and a coward by the rash man, and in the other cases accordingly. And there being this mutual opposition, the contrariety between the extremes is greater than between either and the mean, because they are further from one another than from the mean, just as the greater or less portion differ more from each other than either from the exact half.

So people at either extreme push the person in the middle toward the opposite extreme, so to speak. The coward calls the brave person reckless, and the reckless person calls the brave person a coward. The same applies in the other cases. Given this mutual opposition, the extremes are more opposed to each other than either is to the middle. This is because the extremes are further apart from each other than either is from the middle. Just so, portions greater and smaller than half differ more from each other than either does from exactly half.

Again, in some cases an extreme will bear a resemblance to the mean; rashness, for instance, to courage, and prodigality to liberality; but between the extremes there is the greatest dissimilarity. Now things which are furthest from one another²⁰ are defined to be contrary, and so the further off the more contrary will they be.

Again, in some cases an extreme will resemble the middle ground. Rashness, for example, resembles courage, and wasteful spending resembles generosity. But the extremes differ most from each other. Now things that are furthest apart²⁰ are defined as opposites. So the further apart things are, the more directly opposed they are.

Further: of the extremes in some cases the excess, and in others the defect, is most opposed to the mean: to courage, for instance, not rashness which is the excess, but cowardice which is the defect; whereas to perfected self-mastery not insensibility which is the defect but absence of all self-control which is the excess.

Furthermore, in some cases, excess is most opposed to the balanced middle, while in others, deficiency is most opposed. For example, courage is most opposed not to rashness, an excess, but to cowardice, a deficiency. But complete self-mastery is most opposed not to insensibility, a deficiency, but to a total lack of self-control, an excess.

And for this there are two reasons to be given; one from the nature of the thing itself, because from the one extreme being nearer and more like the mean, we do not put this against it, but the other; as, for instance, since rashness is thought to be nearer to courage than cowardice is, and to resemble it more, we put cowardice against courage rather than rashness, because those things which are further from the mean are thought to be more contrary to it. This then is one reason arising from the thing itself; there is another arising from our own constitution and make: for in each man’s own case those things give the impression of being more contrary to the mean to which we individually have a natural bias. Thus we have a natural bias towards pleasures, for which reason we are much more inclined to the rejection of all self-control, than to self-discipline.

There are two reasons for this. The first comes from the nature of the extremes themselves. One extreme is closer to the mean and more like it. So we treat the other extreme as the mean’s opposite. For example, rashness is thought to be closer to courage than cowardice is, and to resemble courage more. So we treat cowardice, rather than rashness, as the opposite of courage. This is because extremes further from the mean are thought to be more opposed to the mean. That is the reason arising from the thing itself. The other reason comes from our own nature. Each of us sees the extremes we naturally lean toward as more opposed to the mean. Thus, we naturally lean toward pleasures. For this reason, we are much more inclined to reject all self-control than to practice self-discipline.

These things then to which the bias is, we call more contrary, and so total want of self-control (the excess) is more contrary than the defect is to perfected self-mastery.

We therefore consider the extremes we tend toward more opposed to the balanced state. So a complete lack of self-control (the excess) is more opposed to perfect self-mastery than the deficiency is.

Now that Moral Virtue is a mean state, and how it is so, and that it lies between two faulty states, one in the way of excess and another in the way of defect, and that it is so because it has an aptitude to aim at the mean both in feelings and actions, all this has been set forth fully and sufficiently.

We have fully and sufficiently explained that moral virtue is a middle state, and how it is so. It lies between two faulty states, one of excess and one of deficiency. Virtue holds this middle position because it tends to aim at the middle in both feelings and actions.

And so it is hard to be good: for surely hard it is in each instance to find the mean, just as to find the mean point or centre of a circle is not what any man can do, but only he who knows how: just so to be angry, to give money, and be expensive, is what any man can do, and easy: but to do these to the right person, in due proportion, at the right time, with a right object, and in the right manner, this is not as before what any man can do, nor is it easy; and for this cause goodness is rare, and praiseworthy, and noble.

So being good is hard, because finding the right balance in each situation is hard. Just as not everyone can find the center of a circle, only someone who knows how can find it. In the same way, anyone can get angry, give money, or spend lavishly. Doing so is easy. But acting toward the right person, in the right proportion, and at the right time is not easy. Nor is acting for the right purpose and in the right way something anyone can do. That is why goodness is rare, praiseworthy, and noble.

Therefore he who aims at the mean should make it his first care to keep away from that extreme which is more contrary than the other to the mean; just as Calypso in Homer advises Ulysses,

Therefore, anyone aiming for the mean should first avoid the extreme that is more opposed to the mean. This is just as Calypso advises Ulysses in Homer,

because of the two extremes the one is always more, and the other less, erroneous; and, therefore, since to hit exactly on the mean is difficult, one must take the least of the evils as the safest plan;²¹ and this a man will be doing, if he follows this method.

Because one of the two extremes is always more mistaken than the other, finding the exact middle is difficult. So one must choose the lesser evil as the safest course.²¹ A person will do so by following this method.

We ought also to take into consideration our own natural bias; which varies in each man’s case, and will be ascertained from the pleasure and pain arising in us. Furthermore, we should force ourselves off in the contrary direction, because we shall find ourselves in the mean after we have removed ourselves far from the wrong side, exactly as men do in straightening bent timber.²²

We should also consider our own natural bias. This bias differs from person to person, and we can identify it through the pleasure and pain we feel. We should also push ourselves in the opposite direction. For we will reach the middle ground after moving far away from the wrong side, just as people straighten bent timber.²²

But in all cases we must guard most carefully against what is pleasant, and pleasure itself, because we are not impartial judges of it.

But in all cases, we must be especially careful to guard against pleasant things and pleasure itself. This is because we cannot judge pleasure fairly.

We ought to feel in fact towards pleasure as did the old counsellors towards Helen, and in all cases pronounce a similar sentence; for so by sending it away from us, we shall err the less.²³

We should feel about pleasure as the old counselors felt about Helen, and pass the same judgment in all cases. For by sending pleasure away from us, we will make fewer mistakes.²³

Well, to speak very briefly, these are the precautions by adopting which we shall be best able to attain the mean.

In short, taking these precautions will give us the best chance of reaching the mean.

Still, perhaps, after all it is a matter of difficulty, and specially in the particular instances: it is not easy, for instance, to determine exactly in what manner, with what persons, for what causes, and for what length of time, one ought to feel anger: for we ourselves sometimes praise those who are defective in this feeling, and we call them meek; at another, we term the hot-tempered manly and spirited.

Still, perhaps the matter is difficult after all, especially in specific cases. For example, it is not easy to decide exactly how, with whom, or for what reasons we should feel anger. Nor is it easy to decide how long our anger should last. For we ourselves sometimes praise people who feel too little anger and call them gentle. At other times, we call hot-tempered people manly and spirited.

Then, again, he who makes a small deflection from what is right, be it on the side of too much or too little, is not blamed, only he who makes a considerable one; for he cannot escape observation. But to what point or degree a man must err in order to incur blame, it is not easy to determine exactly in words: nor in fact any of those points which are matter of perception by the Moral Sense: such questions are matters of detail, and the decision of them rests with the Moral Sense.²⁴

Again, someone who strays slightly from what is right is not blamed, whether through excess or deficiency. Only someone who strays considerably is blamed, because such a person cannot escape notice. But exactly how far someone must stray to deserve blame is not easy to define in words. Nor is it easy to define any point that depends on perception by the Moral Sense. Such questions depend on the details, and the Moral Sense must decide them.²⁴

At all events thus much is plain, that the mean state is in all things praiseworthy, and that practically we must deflect sometimes towards excess sometimes towards defect, because this will be the easiest method of hitting on the mean, that is, on what is right.

At any rate, one thing is clear: the middle ground deserves praise in all things. In practice, we must lean sometimes toward excess and sometimes toward falling short. This is because leaning either way is the easiest way to reach the middle ground, which is what is right.