I Now since Virtue is concerned with the regulation of feelings andactions, and praise and blame arise upon such as are voluntary, whilefor the involuntary allowance is made, and sometimes compassion isexcited, it is perhaps a necessary task for those who are investigatingthe nature of Virtue to draw out the distinction between what isvoluntary and what involuntary; and it is certainly useful forlegislators, with respect to the assigning of honours and punishments.
III
Involuntary actions then are thought to be of two kinds, beingdone either on compulsion, or by reason of ignorance. An action is,properly speaking, compulsory, when the origination is external to theagent, being such that in it the agent (perhaps we may more properlysay the patient) contributes nothing; as if a wind were to convey youanywhere, or men having power over your person.
But when actions are done, either from fear of greater evils, or fromsome honourable motive, as, for instance, if you were ordered to commitsome base act by a despot who had your parents or children in his power,and they were to be saved upon your compliance or die upon your refusal,in such cases there is room for a question whether the actions arevoluntary or involuntary.
A similar question arises with respect to cases of throwing goodsoverboard in a storm: abstractedly no man throws away his propertywillingly, but with a view to his own and his shipmates' safety any onewould who had any sense.
The truth is, such actions are of a mixed kind, but are most likevoluntary actions; for they are choiceworthy at the time when they arebeing done, and the end or object of the action must be taken withreference to the actual occasion. Further, we must denominate an actionvoluntary or involuntary at the time of doing it: now in the given casethe man acts voluntarily, because the originating of the motion of hislimbs in such actions rests with himself; and where the origination isin himself it rests with himself to do or not to do.
Such actions then are voluntary, though in the abstract perhapsinvoluntary because no one would choose any of such things in and byitself.
But for such actions men sometimes are even praised, as when they endureany disgrace or pain to secure great and honourable equivalents; ifvice vers? then they are blamed, because it shows a base mind toendure things very disgraceful for no honourable object, or for atrifling one.
For some again no praise is given, but allowance is made; as where aman does what he should not by reason of such things as overstrain thepowers of human nature, or pass the limits of human endurance.
Some acts perhaps there are for which compulsion cannot be pleaded, buta man should rather suffer the worst and die; how absurd, for instance,are the pleas of compulsion with which Alcmaeon in Euripides' playexcuses his matricide!
But it is difficult sometimes to decide what kind of thing should bechosen instead of what, or what endured in preference to what, and muchmoreso to abide by one's decisions: for in general the alternatives arepainful, and the actions required are base, and so praise or blame isawarded according as persons have been compelled or no.
1110b What kind of actions then are to be called compulsory? may we say,simply and abstractedly whenever the cause is external and the agentcontributes nothing; and that where the acts are in themselves suchas one would not wish but choiceworthy at the present time and inpreference to such and such things, and where the origination rests withthe agent, the actions are in themselves involuntary but at the giventime and in preference to such and such things voluntary; and they aremore like voluntary than involuntary, because the actions consist oflittle details, and these are voluntary.
But what kind of things one ought to choose instead of what, it is noteasy to settle, for there are many differences in particular instances.
But suppose a person should say, things pleasant and honourable exerta compulsive force (for that they are external and do compel); at thatrate every action is on compulsion, because these are universal motivesof action.
Again, they who act on compulsion and against their will do so withpain; but they who act by reason of what is pleasant or honourable actwith pleasure.
It is truly absurd for a man to attribute his actions to external thingsinstead of to his own capacity for being easily caught by them; or,again, to ascribe the honourable to himself, and the base ones topleasure.
So then that seems to be compulsory "whose origination is from without,the party compelled contributing nothing." Now every action of whichignorance is the cause is not-voluntary, but that only is involuntarywhich is attended with pain and remorse; for clearly the man who hasdone anything by reason of ignorance, but is not annoyed at his ownaction, cannot be said to have done it with his will because he didnot know he was doing it, nor again against his will because he is notsorry for it.
So then of the class "acting by reason of ignorance," he who feelsregret afterwards is thought to be an involuntary agent, and him thathas no such feeling, since he certainly is different from the other, wewill call a not-voluntary agent; for as there is a real difference it isbetter to have a proper name.
Again, there seems to be a difference between acting because ofignorance and acting with ignorance: for instance, we do not usuallyassign ignorance as the cause of the actions of the drunken or angryman, but either the drunkenness or the anger, yet they act not knowinglybut with ignorance.
Again, every bad man is ignorant what he ought to do and what to leaveundone, and by reason of such error men become unjust and wholly evil.
[Sidenote: 1111a] Again, we do not usually apply the term involuntarywhen a man is ignorant of his own true interest; because ignorance whichaffects moral choice constitutes depravity but not involuntariness: nordoes any ignorance of principle (because for this men are blamed)but ignorance in particular details, wherein consists the action andwherewith it is concerned, for in these there is both compassion andallowance, because he who acts in ignorance of any of them acts in aproper sense involuntarily.
It may be as well, therefore, to define these particular details; whatthey are, and how many; viz. who acts, what he is doing, with respect towhat or in what, sometimes with what, as with what instrument, and withwhat result (as that of preservation, for instance), and how, as whethersoftly or violently.
All these particulars, in one and the same case, no man in his sensescould be ignorant of; plainly not of the agent, being himself. Butwhat he is doing a man may be ignorant, as men in speaking say athing escaped them unawares; or as Aeschylus did with respect to theMysteries, that he was not aware that it was unlawful to speak of them;or as in the case of that catapult accident the other day the man saidhe discharged it merely to display its operation. Or a person mightsuppose a son to be an enemy, as Merope did; or that the spear reallypointed was rounded off; or that the stone was a pumice; or in strikingwith a view to save might kill; or might strike when merely wishing toshow another, as people do in sham-fighting.
Now since ignorance is possible in respect to all these details inwhich the action consists, he that acted in ignorance of any of them isthought to have acted involuntarily, and he most so who was in ignoranceas regards the most important, which are thought to be those in whichthe action consists, and the result.
Further, not only must the ignorance be of this kind, to constitute anaction involuntary, but it must be also understood that the action isfollowed by pain and regret.
Now since all involuntary action is either upon compulsion or by reasonof ignorance, Voluntary Action would seem to be "that whose originationis in the agent, he being aware of the particular details in which theaction consists."
For, it may be, men are not justified by calling those actionsinvoluntary, which are done by reason of Anger or Lust.
Because, in the first place, if this be so no other animal but man, andnot even children, can be said to act voluntarily. Next, is it meantthat we never act voluntarily when we act from Lust or Anger, or that weact voluntarily in doing what is right and involuntarily in doing whatis discreditable? The latter supposition is absurd, since the causeis one and the same. Then as to the former, it is a strange thing tomaintain actions to be involuntary which we are bound to grasp at: nowthere are occasions on which anger is a duty, and there are things whichwe are bound to lust after, health, for instance, and learning.
Again, whereas actions strictly involuntary are thought to be attendedwith pain, those which are done to gratify lust are thought to bepleasant.
Again: how does the involuntariness make any difference between wrongactions done from deliberate calculation, and those done by reason ofanger? for both ought to be avoided, and the irrational feelings arethought to be just as natural to man as reason, and so of course must besuch actions of the individual as are done from Anger and Lust. It isabsurd then to class these actions among the involuntary.
II
Having thus drawn out the distinction between voluntary and involuntaryaction our next step is to examine into the nature of Moral Choice,because this seems most intimately connected with Virtue and to be amore decisive test of moral character than a man's acts are.
Now Moral Choice is plainly voluntary, but the two are not co-extensive,voluntary being the more comprehensive term; for first, children and allother animals share in voluntary action but not in Moral Choice; andnext, sudden actions we call voluntary but do not ascribe them to MoralChoice.
Nor do they appear to be right who say it is lust or anger, or wish, oropinion of a certain kind; because, in the first place, Moral Choice isnot shared by the irrational animals while Lust and Anger are. Next; theman who fails of self-control acts from Lust but not from Moral Choice;the man of self-control, on the contrary, from Moral Choice, not fromLust. Again: whereas Lust is frequently opposed to Moral Choice, Lust isnot to Lust.
Lastly: the object-matter of Lust is the pleasant and the painful, butof Moral Choice neither the one nor the other. Still less can it beAnger, because actions done from Anger are thought generally to be leastof all consequent on Moral Choice.
Nor is it Wish either, though appearing closely connected with it;because, in the first place, Moral Choice has not for its objectsimpossibilities, and if a man were to say he chose them he would bethought to be a fool; but Wish may have impossible things for itsobjects, immortality for instance.
Wish again may be exercised on things in the accomplishment of whichone's self could have nothing to do, as the success of any particularactor or athlete; but no man chooses things of this nature, only such ashe believes he may himself be instrumental in procuring.
Further: Wish has for its object the End rather, but Moral Choice themeans to the End; for instance, we wish to be healthy but we choosethe means which will make us so; or happiness again we wish for, andcommonly say so, but to say we choose is not an appropriate term,because, in short, the province of Moral Choice seems to be those thingswhich are in our own power.
Neither can it be Opinion; for Opinion is thought to be unlimited in itsrange of objects, and to be exercised as well upon things eternal andimpossible as on those which are in our own power: again, Opinion islogically divided into true and false, not into good and bad as MoralChoice is.
However, nobody perhaps maintains its identity with Opinion simply; butit is not the same with opinion of any kind, because by choosing goodand bad things we are constituted of a certain character, but by havingopinions on them we are not.
Again, we choose to take or avoid, and so on, but we opine what a thingis, or for what it is serviceable, or how; but we do not opine to takeor avoid.
Further, Moral Choice is commended rather for having a right object thanfor being judicious, but Opinion for being formed in accordance withtruth.
Again, we choose such things as we pretty well know to be good, but weform opinions respecting such as we do not know at all.
And it is not thought that choosing and opining best always go together,but that some opine the better course and yet by reason of viciousnesschoose not the things which they should.
It may be urged, that Opinion always precedes or accompanies MoralChoice; be it so, this makes no difference, for this is not the point inquestion, but whether Moral Choice is the same as Opinion of a certainkind.
Since then it is none of the aforementioned things, what is it, or howis it characterised? Voluntary it plainly is, but not all voluntaryaction is an object of Moral Choice. May we not say then, it is "thatvoluntary which has passed through a stage of previous deliberation?"because Moral Choice is attended with reasoning and intellectualprocess. The etymology of its Greek name seems to give a hint of it,being when analysed "chosen in preference to somewhat else."
III
Well then; do men deliberate about everything, and is anything soeverthe object of Deliberation, or are there some matters with respect towhich there is none? (It may be as well perhaps to say, that by "objectof Deliberation" is meant such matter as a sensible man would deliberateupon, not what any fool or madman might.)
Well: about eternal things no one deliberates; as, for instance, theuniverse, or the incommensurability of the diameter and side of asquare.
Nor again about things which are in motion but which always happen inthe same way either necessarily, or naturally, or from some other cause,as the solstices or the sunrise.
Nor about those which are variable, as drought and rains; nor fortuitousmatters, as finding of treasure.
Nor in fact even about all human affairs; no Laced鎚onian, for instance,deliberates as to the best course for the Scythian government to adopt;because in such cases we have no power over the result.
But we do deliberate respecting such practical matters as are in our ownpower (which are what are left after all our exclusions).
I have adopted this division because causes seem to be divisible intonature, necessity, chance, and moreover intellect, and all human powers.
And as man in general deliberates about what man in general can effect,so individuals do about such practical things as can be effected throughtheir own instrumentality.
[Sidenote: 1112b] Again, we do not deliberate respecting such arts orsciences as are exact and independent: as, for instance, about writtencharacters, because we have no doubt how they should be formed; but wedo deliberate on all buch things as are usually done through our owninstrumentality, but not invariably in the same way; as, for instance,about matters connected with the healing art, or with money-making; and,again, more about piloting ships than gymnastic exercises, because theformer has been less exactly determined, and so forth; and more aboutarts than sciences, because we more frequently doubt respecting theformer.
So then Deliberation takes place in such matters as are under generallaws, but still uncertain how in any given case they will issue,i.e. in which there is some indefiniteness; and for great matters weassociate coadjutors in counsel, distrusting our ability to settle themalone.
Further, we deliberate not about Ends, but Means to Ends. No physician,for instance, deliberates whether he will cure, nor orator whetherhe will persuade, nor statesman whether he will produce a goodconstitution, nor in fact any man in any other function about hisparticular End; but having set before them a certain End they look howand through what means it may be accomplished: if there is a choice ofmeans, they examine further which are easiest and most creditable; or,if there is but one means of accomplishing the object, then how it maybe through this, this again through what, till they come to the firstcause; and this will be the last found; for a man engaged in a processof deliberation seems to seek and analyse, as a man, to solve aproblem, analyses the figure given him. And plainly not every search isDeliberation, those in mathematics to wit, but every Deliberation isa search, and the last step in the analysis is the first in theconstructive process. And if in the course of their search men come uponan impossibility, they give it up; if money, for instance, be necessary,but cannot be got: but if the thing appears possible they then attemptto do it.
And by possible I mean what may be done through our own instrumentality(of course what may be done through our friends is through our owninstrumentality in a certain sense, because the origination in suchcases rests with us). And the object of search is sometimes thenecessary instruments, sometimes the method of using them; and similarlyin the rest sometimes through what, and sometimes how or through what.
So it seems, as has been said, that Man is the originator of hisactions; and Deliberation has for its object whatever may be donethrough one's own instrumentality, and the actions are with a view toother things; and so it is, not the End, but the Means to Ends on whichDeliberation is employed.
[Sidenote: III3a]
Nor, again, is it employed on matters of detail, as whether thesubstance before me is bread, or has been properly cooked; for thesecome under the province of sense, and if a man is to be alwaysdeliberating, he may go on ad infinitum.
Further, exactly the same matter is the object both of Deliberationand Moral Choice; but that which is the object of Moral Choice isthenceforward separated off and definite, because by object of MoralChoice is denoted that which after Deliberation has been preferred tosomething else: for each man leaves off searching how he shall do athing when he has brought the origination up to himself, i.e. to thegoverning principle in himself, because it is this which makes thechoice. A good illustration of this is furnished by the old regalconstitutions which Homer drew from, in which the Kings would announceto the commonalty what they had determined before.
Now since that which is the object of Moral Choice is something in ourown power, which is the object of deliberation and the grasping of theWill, Moral Choice must be "a grasping after something in our own powerconsequent upon Deliberation:" because after having deliberated wedecide, and then grasp by our Will in accordance with the result of ourdeliberation.
Let this be accepted as a sketch of the nature and object of MoralChoice, that object being "Means to Ends."
[Sidenote: IV] That Wish has for its object-matter the End, has beenalready stated; but there are two opinions respecting it; some thinkingthat its object is real good, others whatever impresses the mind with anotion of good.
Now those who maintain that the object of Wish is real good are beset bythis difficulty, that what is wished for by him who chooses wrongly isnot really an object of Wish (because, on their theory, if it is anobject of wish, it must be good, but it is, in the case supposed, evil).Those who maintain, on the contrary, that that which impresses the mindwith a notion of good is properly the object of Wish, have to meet thisdifficulty, that there is nothing naturally an object of Wish but toeach individual whatever seems good to him; now different people havedifferent notions, and it may chance contrary ones.
But, if these opinions do not satisfy us, may we not say that,abstractedly and as a matter of objective truth, the really good is theobject of Wish, but to each individual whatever impresses his mind withthe notion of good. And so to the good man that is an object of Wishwhich is really and truly so, but to the bad man anything may be; justas physically those things are wholesome to the healthy which are reallyso, but other things to the sick. And so too of bitter and sweet, andhot and heavy, and so on. For the good man judges in every instancecorrectly, and in every instance the notion conveyed to his mind is thetrue one.
For there are fair and pleasant things peculiar to, and so varying with,each state; and perhaps the most distinguishing characteristic of thegood man is his seeing the truth in every instance, he being, in fact,the rule and measure of these matters.
The multitude of men seem to be deceived by reason of pleasure, becausethough it is not really a good it impresses their minds with the notionof goodness, so they choose what is pleasant as good and avoid pain asan evil.
Now since the End is the object of Wish, and the means to the End ofDeliberation and Moral Choice, the actions regarding these mattersmust be in the way of Moral Choice, i.e. voluntary: but the acts ofworking out the virtues are such actions, and therefore Virtue is in ourpower.
And so too is Vice: because wherever it is in our power to do it is alsoin our power to forbear doing, and vice vers? therefore if the doing(being in a given case creditable) is in our power, so too is theforbearing (which is in the same case discreditable), and vice vers?
But if it is in our power to do and to forbear doing what is creditableor the contrary, and these respectively constitute the being good orbad, then the being good or vicious characters is in our power.
As for the well-known saying, "No man voluntarily is wicked orinvoluntarily happy," it is partly true, partly false; for no man ishappy against his will, of course, but wickedness is voluntary. Or mustwe dispute the statements lately made, and not say that Man is theoriginator or generator of his actions as much as of his children?
But if this is matter of plain manifest fact, and we cannot refer ouractions to any other originations beside those in our own power, thosethings must be in our own power, and so voluntary, the originations ofwhich are in ourselves.
Moreover, testimony seems to be borne to these positions both privatelyby individuals, and by law-givers too, in that they chastise and punishthose who do wrong (unless they do so on compulsion, or by reason ofignorance which is not self-caused), while they honour those who actrightly, under the notion of being likely to encourage the latter andrestrain the former. But such things as are not in our own power, i.e.not voluntary, no one thinks of encouraging us to do, knowing it to beof no avail for one to have been persuaded not to be hot (for instance),or feel pain, or be hungry, and so forth, because we shall have thosesensations all the same.
And what makes the case stronger is this: that they chastise for thevery fact of ignorance, when it is thought to be self-caused; to thedrunken, for instance, penalties are double, because the origination insuch case lies in a man's own self: for he might have helped gettingdrunk, and this is the cause of his ignorance.
[Sidenote: III4a] Again, those also who are ignorant of legalregulations which they are bound to know, and which are not hard toknow, they chastise; and similarly in all other cases where neglect isthought to be the cause of the ignorance, under the notion that it wasin their power to prevent their ignorance, because they might have paidattention.
But perhaps a man is of such a character that he cannot attend to suchthings: still men are themselves the causes of having become suchcharacters by living carelessly, and also of being unjust or destituteof self-control, the former by doing evil actions, the latter byspending their time in drinking and such-like; because the particularacts of working form corresponding characters, as is shown by those whoare practising for any contest or particular course of action, for suchmen persevere in the acts of working.
As for the plea, that a man did not know that habits are producedfrom separate acts of working, we reply, such ignorance is a mark ofexcessive stupidity.
Furthermore, it is wholly irrelevant to say that the man who actsunjustly or dissolutely does not wish to attain the habits of thesevices: for if a man wittingly does those things whereby he must becomeunjust he is to all intents and purposes unjust voluntarily; but hecannot with a wish cease to be unjust and become just. For, to take theanalogous case, the sick man cannot with a wish be well again, yet ina supposable case he is voluntarily ill because he has produced hissickness by living intemperately and disregarding his physicians. Therewas a time then when he might have helped being ill, but now he has lethimself go he cannot any longer; just as he who has let a stone out ofhis hand cannot recall it, and yet it rested with him to aim and throwit, because the origination was in his power. Just so the unjust man,and he who has lost all self-control, might originally have helped beingwhat they are, and so they are voluntarily what they are; but now thatthey are become so they no longer have the power of being otherwise.
And not only are mental diseases voluntary, but the bodily are so insome men, whom we accordingly blame: for such as are naturally deformedno one blames, only such as are so by reason of want of exercise, andneglect: and so too of weakness and maiming: no one would think ofupbraiding, but would rather compassionate, a man who is blind bynature, or from disease, or from an accident; but every one would blamehim who was so from excess of wine, or any other kind of intemperance.It seems, then, that in respect of bodily diseases, those which dependon ourselves are censured, those which do not are not censured; and ifso, then in the case of the mental disorders, those which are censuredmust depend upon ourselves.
[Sidenote: III4b] But suppose a man to say, "that (by our ownadmission) all men aim at that which conveys to their minds animpression of good, and that men have no control over this impression,but that the End impresses each with a notion correspondent to his ownindividual character; that to be sure if each man is in a way the causeof his own moral state, so he will be also of the kind of impression hereceives: whereas, if this is not so, no one is the cause to himself ofdoing evil actions, but he does them by reason of ignorance of the trueEnd, supposing that through their means he will secure the chief good.Further, that this aiming at the End is no matter of one's own choice,but one must be born with a power of mental vision, so to speak, wherebyto judge fairly and choose that which is really good; and he is blessedby nature who has this naturally well: because it is the most importantthing and the fairest, and what a man cannot get or learn from anotherbut will have such as nature has given it; and for this to be so givenwell and fairly would be excellence of nature in the highest and truestsense."
If all this be true, how will Virtue be a whit more voluntary than Vice?Alike to the good man and the bad, the End gives its impression and isfixed by nature or howsoever you like to say, and they act so and so,referring everything else to this End.
Whether then we suppose that the End impresses each man's mind withcertain notions not merely by nature, but that there is somewhat alsodependent on himself; or that the End is given by nature, and yet Virtueis voluntary because the good man does all the rest voluntarily, Vicemust be equally so; because his own agency equally attaches to the badman in the actions, even if not in the selection of the End.
If then, as is commonly said, the Virtues are voluntary (because we atleast co-operate in producing our moral states, and we assume the Endto be of a certain kind according as we are ourselves of certaincharacters), the Vices must be voluntary also, because the cases areexactly similar.
Well now, we have stated generally respecting the Moral Virtues, thegenus (in outline), that they are mean states, and that they are habits,and how they are formed, and that they are of themselves calculated toact upon the circumstances out of which they were formed, and that theyare in our own power and voluntary, and are to be done so as rightReason may direct.
[Sidenote: III5a] But the particular actions and the habits are notvoluntary in the same sense; for of the actions we are masters frombeginning to end (supposing of course a knowledge of the particulardetails), but only of the origination of the habits, the addition bysmall particular accessions not being cognisiable (as is the case withsicknesses): still they are voluntary because it rested with us to useour circumstances this way or that.
Here we will resume the particular discussion of the Moral Virtues,and say what they are, what is their object-matter, and how they standrespectively related to it: of course their number will be therebyshown. First, then, of Courage. Now that it is a mean state, in respectof fear and boldness, has been already said: further, the objects of ourfears are obviously things fearful or, in a general way of statement,evils; which accounts for the common definition of fear, viz."expectation of evil."
Of course we fear evils of all kinds: disgrace, for instance, poverty,disease, desolateness, death; but not all these seem to be theobject-matter of the Brave man, because there are things which to fearis right and noble, and not to fear is base; disgrace, for example,since he who fears this is a good man and has a sense of honour, and hewho does not fear it is shameless (though there are those who call himBrave by analogy, because he somewhat resembles the Brave man who agreeswith him in being free from fear); but poverty, perhaps, or disease, andin fact whatever does not proceed from viciousness, nor is attributableto his own fault, a man ought not to fear: still, being fearless inrespect of these would not constitute a man Brave in the proper sense ofthe term.
Yet we do apply the term in right of the similarity of the cases; forthere are men who, though timid in the dangers of war, are liberal menand are stout enough to face loss of wealth.
And, again, a man is not a coward for fearing insult to his wife orchildren, or envy, or any such thing; nor is he a Brave man for beingbold when going to be scourged.
What kind of fearful things then do constitute the object-matter of theBrave man? first of all, must they not be the greatest, since no man ismore apt to withstand what is dreadful. Now the object of the greatestdread is death, because it is the end of all things, and the dead man isthought to be capable neither of good nor evil. Still it would seemthat the Brave man has not for his object-matter even death in everycircumstance; on the sea, for example, or in sickness: in whatcircumstances then? must it not be in the most honourable? now such isdeath in war, because it is death in the greatest and most honourabledanger; and this is confirmed by the honours awarded in communities, andby monarchs.
He then may be most properly denominated Brave who is fearless inrespect of honourable death and such sudden emergencies as threatendeath; now such specially are those which arise in the course of war.
[Sidenote: 1115b] It is not meant but that the Brave man will befearless also on the sea (and in sickness), but not in the same way assea-faring men; for these are light-hearted and hopeful by reason oftheir experience, while landsmen though Brave are apt to give themselvesup for lost and shudder at the notion of such a death: to which itshould be added that Courage is exerted in circumstances which admitof doing something to help one's self, or in which death would behonourable; now neither of these requisites attach to destruction bydrowning or sickness.
VII
Again, fearful is a term of relation, the same thing not being so toall, and there is according to common parlance somewhat so fearful as tobe beyond human endurance: this of course would be fearful to everyman of sense, but those objects which are level to the capacity ofman differ in magnitude and admit of degrees, so too the objects ofconfidence or boldness.
Now the Brave man cannot be frighted from his propriety (but of courseonly so far as he is man); fear such things indeed he will, but he willstand up against them as he ought and as right reason may direct, with aview to what is honourable, because this is the end of the virtue.
Now it is possible to fear these things too much, or too little, oragain to fear what is not really fearful as if it were such. So theerrors come to be either that a man fears when he ought not to fear atall, or that he fears in an improper way, or at a wrong time, and soforth; and so too in respect of things inspiring confidence. He isBrave then who withstands, and fears, and is bold, in respect of rightobjects, from a right motive, in right manner, and at right times:since the Brave man suffers or acts as he ought and as right reason maydirect.
Now the end of every separate act of working is that which accordswith the habit, and so to the Brave man Courage; which is honourable;therefore such is also the End, since the character of each isdetermined by the End.
So honour is the motive from which the Brave man withstands thingsfearful and performs the acts which accord with Courage.
Of the characters on the side of Excess, he who exceeds in utter absenceof fear has no appropriate name (I observed before that many states havenone), but he would be a madman or inaccessible to pain if he fearednothing, neither earthquake, nor the billows, as they tell of the Celts.
He again who exceeds in confidence in respect of things fearful is rash.He is thought moreover to be a braggart, and to advance unfounded claimsto the character of Brave: the relation which the Brave man really bearsto objects of fear this man wishes to appear to bear, and so imitateshim in whatever points he can; for this reason most of them exhibit acurious mixture of rashness and cowardice; because, affecting rashnessin these circumstances, they do not withstand what is truly fearful.
[Sidenote: III6a] The man moreover who exceeds in feeling fear is acoward, since there attach to him the circumstances of fearing wrongobjects, in wrong ways, and so forth. He is deficient also in feelingconfidence, but he is most clearly seen as exceeding in the case ofpains; he is a fainthearted kind of man, for he fears all things: theBrave man is just the contrary, for boldness is the property of thelight-hearted and hopeful.
So the coward, the rash, and the Brave man have exactly the sameobject-matter, but stand differently related to it: the twofirst-mentioned respectively exceed and are deficient, the last is in amean state and as he ought to be. The rash again are precipitate, and,being eager before danger, when actually in it fall away, while theBrave are quick and sharp in action, but before are quiet and composed.
Well then, as has been said, Courage is a mean state in respect ofobjects inspiring boldness or fear, in the circumstances which have beenstated, and the Brave man chooses his line and withstands danger eitherbecause to do so is honourable, or because not to do so is base. Butdying to escape from poverty, or the pangs of love, or anything that issimply painful, is the act not of a Brave man but of a coward; becauseit is mere softness to fly from what is toilsome, and the suicide bravesthe terrors of death not because it is honourable but to get out of thereach of evil.
VIII
Courage proper is somewhat of the kind I have described, but there aredispositions, differing in five ways, which also bear in common parlancethe name of Courage.
We will take first that which bears most resemblance to the true, theCourage of Citizenship, so named because the motives which are thoughtto actuate the members of a community in braving danger are thepenalties and disgrace held out by the laws to cowardice, and thedignities conferred on the Brave; which is thought to be the reasonwhy those are the bravest people among whom cowards are visited withdisgrace and the Brave held in honour.
Such is the kind of Courage Homer exhibits in his characters; Diomed andHector for example. The latter says,
"Polydamas will be the first to fix Disgrace upon me."
Diomed again,
"For Hector surely will hereafter say, Speaking in Troy, Tydides by my hand"--
This I say most nearly resembles the Courage before spoken of, becauseit arises from virtue, from a feeling of shame, and a desire of what isnoble (that is, of honour), and avoidance of disgrace which is base. Inthe same rank one would be inclined to place those also who act undercompulsion from their commanders; yet are they really lower, because nota sense of honour but fear is the motive from which they act, and whatthey seek to avoid is not that which is base but that which is simplypainful: commanders do in fact compel their men sometimes, as Hectorsays (to quote Homer again),
"But whomsoever I shall find cowering afar from the fight, The teeth of dogs he shall by no means escape."
[Sidenote: III6h] Those commanders who station staunch troops bydoubtful ones, or who beat their men if they flinch, or who draw theirtroops up in line with the trenches, or other similar obstacles,in their rear, do in effect the same as Hector, for they all usecompulsion.
But a man is to be Brave, not on compulsion, but from a sense of honour.
In the next place, Experience and Skill in the various particulars isthought to be a species of Courage: whence Socrates also thought thatCourage was knowledge.
This quality is exhibited of course by different men under differentcircumstances, but in warlike matters, with which we are now concerned,it is exhibited by the soldiers ("the regulars"): for there are, itwould seem, many things in war of no real importance which these havebeen constantly used to see; so they have a show of Courage becauseother people are not aware of the real nature of these things. Thenagain by reason of their skill they are better able than any others toinflict without suffering themselves, because they are able to use theirarms and have such as are most serviceable both with a view to offenceand defence: so that their case is parallel to that of armed menfighting with unarmed or trained athletes with amateurs, since incontests of this kind those are the best fighters, not who are thebravest men, but who are the strongest and are in the best condition.
In fact, the regular troops come to be cowards whenever the danger isgreater than their means of meeting it; supposing, for example, thatthey are inferior in numbers and resources: then they are the first tofly, but the mere militia stand and fall on the ground (which as youknow really happened at the Herm鎢m), for in the eyes of these flightwas disgraceful and death preferable to safety bought at such a price:while "the regulars" originally went into the danger under a notionof their own superiority, but on discovering their error they took toflight, having greater fear of death than of disgrace; but this is notthe feeling of the Brave man.
Thirdly, mere Animal Spirit is sometimes brought under the term Courage:they are thought to be Brave who are carried on by mere Animal Spirit,as are wild beasts against those who have wounded them, because in factthe really Brave have much Spirit, there being nothing like it for goingat danger of any kind; whence those frequent expressions in Homer,"infused strength into his spirit," "roused his strength and spirit," oragain, "and keen strength in his nostrils," "his blood boiled:" for allthese seem to denote the arousing and impetuosity of the Animal Spirit.
[Sidenote: III7a] Now they that are truly Brave act from a sense ofhonour, and this Animal Spirit co-operates with them; but wild beastsfrom pain, that is because they have been wounded, or are frightened;since if they are quietly in their own haunts, forest or marsh, they donot attack men. Surely they are not Brave because they rush into dangerwhen goaded on by pain and mere Spirit, without any view of the danger:else would asses be Brave when they are hungry, for though beaten theywill not then leave their pasture: profligate men besides do many boldactions by reason of their lust. We may conclude then that they are notBrave who are goaded on to meet danger by pain and mere Spirit; butstill this temper which arises from Animal Spirit appears to be mostnatural, and would be Courage of the true kind if it could have addedto it moral choice and the proper motive. So men also are pained by afeeling of anger, and take pleasure in revenge; but they who fight fromthese causes may be good fighters, but they are not truly Brave (inthat they do not act from a sense of honour, nor as reason directs, butmerely from the present feeling), still they bear some resemblance tothat character.
Nor, again, are the Sanguine and Hopeful therefore Brave: since theirboldness in dangers arises from their frequent victories over numerousfoes. The two characters are alike, however, in that both are confident;but then the Brave are so from the afore-mentioned causes, whereas theseare so from a settled conviction of their being superior and not likelyto suffer anything in return (they who are intoxicated do much thesame, for they become hopeful when in that state); but when the eventdisappoints their expectations they run away: now it was said to be thecharacter of a Brave man to withstand things which are fearful to manor produce that impression, because it is honourable so to do and thecontrary is dishonourable.
For this reason it is thought to be a greater proof of Courage to befearless and undisturbed under the pressure of sudden fear than underthat which may be anticipated, because Courage then comes rather from afixed habit, or less from preparation: since as to foreseen dangers aman might take his line even from calculation and reasoning, but inthose which are sudden he will do so according to his fixed habit ofmind.
Fifthly and lastly, those who are acting under Ignorance have a showof Courage and are not very far from the Hopeful; but still they areinferior inasmuch as they have no opinion of themselves; which theothers have, and therefore stay and contest a field for some littletime; but they who have been deceived fly the moment they know things tobe otherwise than they supposed, which the Argives experienced when theyfell on the Laced鎚onians, taking them for the men of Sicyon. We havedescribed then what kind of men the Brave are, and what they who arethought to be, but are not really, Brave.
[Sidenote: IX]
It must be remarked, however, that though Courage has for itsobject-matter boldness and fear it has not both equally so, but objectsof fear much more than the former; for he that under pressure of theseis undisturbed and stands related to them as he ought is better entitledto the name of Brave than he who is properly affected towards objectsof confidence. So then men are termed Brave for withstanding painfulthings.
It follows that Courage involves pain and is justly praised, since itis a harder matter to withstand things that are painful than to abstainfrom such as are pleasant.
[Sidenote: 1117b]
It must not be thought but that the End and object of Courage ispleasant, but it is obscured by the surrounding circumstances: whichhappens also in the gymnastic games; to the boxers the End is pleasantwith a view to which they act, I mean the crown and the honours; but thereceiving the blows they do is painful and annoying to flesh and blood,and so is all the labour they have to undergo; and, as these drawbacksare many, the object in view being small appears to have no pleasantnessin it.
If then we may say the same of Courage, of course death and wounds mustbe painful to the Brave man and against his will: still he endures thesebecause it is honourable so to do or because it is dishonourable not todo so. And the more complete his virtue and his happiness so much themore will he be pained at the notion of death: since to such a man ashe is it is best worth while to live, and he with full consciousness isdeprived of the greatest goods by death, and this is a painful idea. Buthe is not the less Brave for feeling it to be so, nay rather it may behe is shown to be more so because he chooses the honour that may bereaped in war in preference to retaining safe possession of these othergoods. The fact is that to act with pleasure does not belong to all thevirtues, except so far as a man realises the End of his actions.
But there is perhaps no reason why not such men should make the bestsoldiers, but those who are less truly Brave but have no other good tocare for: these being ready to meet danger and bartering their livesagainst small gain.
Let thus much be accepted as sufficient on the subject of Courage; thetrue nature of which it is not difficult to gather, in outline at least,from what has been said.
[Sidenote: X]
Next let us speak of Perfected Self-Mastery, which seems to claim thenext place to Courage, since these two are the Excellences of theIrrational part of the Soul.
That it is a mean state, having for its object-matter Pleasures, we havealready said (Pains being in fact its object-matter in a less degreeand dissimilar manner), the state of utter absence of self-control hasplainly the same object-matter; the next thing then is to determine whatkind of Pleasures.
Let Pleasures then be understood to be divided into mental and bodily:instances of the former being love of honour or of learning: it beingplain that each man takes pleasure in that of these two objects which hehas a tendency to like, his body being no way affected but rather hisintellect. Now men are not called perfectly self-mastering or whollydestitute of self-control in respect of pleasures of this class: nor infact in respect of any which are not bodily; those for example who loveto tell long stories, and are prosy, and spend their days aboutmere chance matters, we call gossips but not wholly destitute ofself-control, nor again those who are pained at the loss of money orfriends.
[Sidenote: 1118a]
It is bodily Pleasures then which are the object-matter of PerfectedSelf-Mastery, but not even all these indifferently: I mean, that theywho take pleasure in objects perceived by the Sight, as colours, andforms, and painting, are not denominated men of Perfected Self-Mastery,or wholly destitute of self-control; and yet it would seem that one maytake pleasure even in such objects, as one ought to do, or excessively,or too little.
So too of objects perceived by the sense of Hearing; no one applies theterms before quoted respectively to those who are excessively pleasedwith musical tunes or acting, or to those who take such pleasure as theyought.
Nor again to those persons whose pleasure arises from the senseof Smell, except incidentally: I mean, we do not say men have noself-control because they take pleasure in the scent of fruit, orflowers, or incense, but rather when they do so in the smells ofunguents and sauces: since men destitute of self-control take pleasureherein, because hereby the objects of their lusts are recalled to theirimagination (you may also see other men take pleasure in the smell offood when they are hungry): but to take pleasure in such is a mark ofthe character before named since these are objects of desire to him.
Now not even brutes receive pleasure in right of these senses, exceptincidentally. I mean, it is not the scent of hares' flesh but the eatingit which dogs take pleasure in, perception of which pleasure is causedby the sense of Smell. Or again, it is not the lowing of the ox buteating him which the lion likes; but of the fact of his nearness thelion is made sensible by the lowing, and so he appears to take pleasurein this. In like manner, he has no pleasure in merely seeing or findinga stag or wild goat, but in the prospect of a meal.
The habits of Perfect Self-Mastery and entire absence of self-controlhave then for their object-matter such pleasures as brutes also sharein, for which reason they are plainly servile and brutish: they areTouch and Taste.
But even Taste men seem to make little or no use of; for to the sense ofTaste belongs the distinguishing of flavours; what men do, in fact, whoare testing the quality of wines or seasoning "made dishes."
But men scarcely take pleasure at all in these things, at least thosewhom we call destitute of self-control do not, but only in the actualenjoyment which arises entirely from the sense of Touch, whether ineating or in drinking, or in grosser lusts. This accounts for the wishsaid to have been expressed once by a great glutton, "that his throathad been formed longer than a crane's neck," implying that his pleasurewas derived from the Touch.
[Sidenote: 1118b] The sense then with which is connected the habit ofabsence of self-control is the most common of all the senses, and thishabit would seem to be justly a matter of reproach, since it attaches tous not in so far as we are men but in so far as we are animals. Indeedit is brutish to take pleasure in such things and to like them best ofall; for the most respectable of the pleasures arising from the touchhave been set aside; those, for instance, which occur in the course ofgymnastic training from the rubbing and the warm bath: because the touchof the man destitute of self-control is not indifferently of any partof the body but only of particular parts.
XI
Now of lusts or desires some are thought to be universal, otherspeculiar and acquired; thus desire for food is natural since every onewho really needs desires also food, whether solid or liquid, or both(and, as Homer says, the man in the prime of youth needs and desiresintercourse with the other sex); but when we come to this or thatparticular kind, then neither is the desire universal nor in all men isit directed to the same objects. And therefore the conceiving of suchdesires plainly attaches to us as individuals. It must be admitted,however, that there is something natural in it: because different thingsare pleasant to different men and a preference of some particularobjects to chance ones is universal. Well then, in the case of thedesires which are strictly and properly natural few men go wrong and allin one direction, that is, on the side of too much: I mean, to eat anddrink of such food as happens to be on the table till one is overfilledis exceeding in quantity the natural limit, since the natural desireis simply a supply of a real deficiency. For this reason these men arecalled belly-mad, as filling it beyond what they ought, and it is theslavish who become of this character.
But in respect of the peculiar pleasures many men go wrong and in manydifferent ways; for whereas the term "fond of so and so" implies eithertaking pleasure in wrong objects, or taking pleasure excessively, or asthe mass of men do, or in a wrong way, they who are destitute of allself-control exceed in all these ways; that is to say, they takepleasure in some things in which they ought not to do so (because theyare properly objects of detestation), and in such as it is right to takepleasure in they do so more than they ought and as the mass of men do.
Well then, that excess with respect to pleasures is absence ofself-control, and blameworthy, is plain. But viewing these habits on theside of pains, we find that a man is not said to have the virtue forwithstanding them (as in the case of Courage), nor the vice for notwithstanding them; but the man destitute of self-control is such,because he is pained more than he ought to be at not obtaining thingswhich are pleasant (and thus his pleasure produces pain to him), and theman of Perfected Self-Mastery is such in virtue of not being pained bytheir absence, that is, by having to abstain from what is pleasant.
[Sidenote:III9a] Now the man destitute of self-control desires eitherall pleasant things indiscriminately or those which are speciallypleasant, and he is impelled by his desire to choose these things inpreference to all others; and this involves pain, not only when hemisses the attainment of his objects but, in the very desiring them,since all desire is accompanied by pain. Surely it is a strange casethis, being pained by reason of pleasure.
As for men who are defective on the side of pleasure, who takeless pleasure in things than they ought, they are almost imaginarycharacters, because such absence of sensual perception is not natural toman: for even the other animals distinguish between different kinds offood, and like some kinds and dislike others. In fact, could a man befound who takes no pleasure in anything and to whom all things arealike, he would be far from being human at all: there is no name forsuch a character because it is simply imaginary.
But the man of Perfected Self-Mastery is in the mean with respect tothese objects: that is to say, he neither takes pleasure in the thingswhich delight the vicious man, and in fact rather dislikes them, nor atall in improper objects; nor to any great degree in any object of theclass; nor is he pained at their absence; nor does he desire them; or,if he does, only in moderation, and neither more than he ought, nor atimproper times, and so forth; but such things as are conducive to healthand good condition of body, being also pleasant, these he will grasp atin moderation and as he ought to do, and also such other pleasant thingsas do not hinder these objects, and are not unseemly or disproportionateto his means; because he that should grasp at such would be liking suchpleasures more than is proper; but the man of Perfected Self-Masteryis not of this character, but regulates his desires by the dictates ofright reason.
XII
Now the vice of being destitute of all Self-Control seems to be moretruly voluntary than Cowardice, because pleasure is the cause of theformer and pain of the latter, and pleasure is an object of choice,pain of avoidance. And again, pain deranges and spoils the naturaldisposition of its victim, whereas pleasure has no such effect and ismore voluntary and therefore more justly open to reproach.
It is so also for the following reason; that it is easier to be inuredby habit to resist the objects of pleasure, there being many things ofthis kind in life and the process of habituation being unaccompanied bydanger; whereas the case is the reverse as regards the objects of fear.
Again, Cowardice as a confirmed habit would seem to be voluntary ina different way from the particular instances which form the habit;because it is painless, but these derange the man by reason of pain sothat he throws away his arms and otherwise behaves himself unseemly,for which reason they are even thought by some to exercise a power ofcompulsion.
But to the man destitute of Self-Control the particular instances are onthe contrary quite voluntary, being done with desire and direct exertionof the will, but the general result is less voluntary: since no mandesires to form the habit.
[Sidenote: 1119b]
The name of this vice (which signifies etymologically unchastened-ness)we apply also to the faults of children, there being a certainresemblance between the cases: to which the name is primarily applied,and to which secondarily or derivatively, is not relevant to the presentsubject, but it is evident that the later in point of time must get thename from the earlier. And the metaphor seems to be a very good one;for whatever grasps after base things, and is liable to great increase,ought to be chastened; and to this description desire and the childanswer most truly, in that children also live under the direction ofdesire and the grasping after what is pleasant is most prominently seenin these.
Unless then the appetite be obedient and subjected to the governingprinciple it will become very great: for in the fool the grasping afterwhat is pleasant is insatiable and undiscriminating; and every actingout of the desire increases the kindred habit, and if the desires aregreat and violent in degree they even expel Reason entirely; thereforethey ought to be moderate and few, and in no respect to be opposedto Reason. Now when the appetite is in such a state we denominate itobedient and chastened.
In short, as the child ought to live with constant regard to the ordersof its educator, so should the appetitive principle with regard to thoseof Reason.
So then in the man of Perfected Self-Mastery, the appetitive principlemust be accordant with Reason: for what is right is the mark at whichboth principles aim: that is to say, the man of perfected self-masterydesires what he ought in right manner and at right times, which isexactly what Reason directs. Let this be taken for our account ofPerfected Self-Mastery.