Aristotle · a new plain-English translation from the original language
1| [1094a] Every craft and every inquiry, and likewise every action and choice, seems to aim at some good; and so the good has rightly been declared to be that at which everything aims. But a difference appears among the ends: some are activities, while others are certain products beyond the activities themselves. Where there are ends beyond the actions, in these cases the products are by nature better than the activities. Since there are many actions, and crafts, and branches of knowledge, the ends turn out to be many as well: the end of medicine is health, of shipbuilding a ship, of generalship victory, of household-management wealth. But wherever a number of such pursuits fall under some single capacity — as bridle-making and the other crafts that produce instruments for horsemanship fall under horsemanship, and this itself, along with every action of war, falls under generalship, and so on in the same way, others under still others — in all of these the ends of the master crafts are more choiceworthy than the ends of the crafts subordinate to them, since it is for the sake of the former that the latter too are pursued. And it makes no difference whether the ends of the actions are the activities themselves or something else beyond them, as in the branches of knowledge just mentioned. If, then, there is some end of the things we do that we wish for on account of itself, and the rest on account of it, and we do not choose everything on account of something else (for in that way the process will go on without limit, so that our desire would be empty and pointless), then clearly this would be the good, indeed the highest good. Does knowledge of it, then, have great weight for our life as well, and would we, like archers who have a target to aim at, be more likely to hit what we ought? If so,
2| we must try, in outline at least, to grasp what it is and to which of the branches of knowledge or capacities it belongs. It would seem to belong to the most sovereign one, the one most in the nature of a master craft. And political science appears to be of this kind: for it is this that ordains which of the branches of knowledge are needed in cities, [1094b] and which ones each class of people should learn, and up to what point; and we see that even the most honored of the capacities fall under it, such as generalship, household-management, and rhetoric. Since it makes use of the remaining practical branches of knowledge, and moreover legislates what must be done and what abstained from, its end would encompass the ends of the others, so that this would be the good for man. For even if the good is the same for an individual and for a city, that of the city clearly is the greater and more complete thing, both to achieve and to preserve. For while it is worth loving even for a single individual, it is finer and more godlike for a nation or for cities. This, then, is what our inquiry aims at, being in a sense political science. Our discussion will be adequate if it achieves the clarity that the subject matter allows; for precision should not be sought alike in all discussions, any more than in the products of the crafts. Now the fine and just things, which political science examines, admit of much variation and irregularity, so that they seem to exist by convention only, not by nature. Even the good things admit of a similar irregularity, because harm comes to many people from them: some have perished on account of wealth, others on account of courage. We must be content, then, given that we are speaking about such subjects and from such premises, to indicate the truth roughly and in outline; and given that we are speaking about things that hold for the most part and from premises of the same kind, to reach conclusions of the same kind as well. In the same spirit, each of our claims should be received in the same way; for it is the mark of an educated person to look for just so much precision in each kind of subject
3| so far as the subject matter itself allows for it; expecting a mathematician's arguments to be merely persuasive, while demanding strict proofs from a rhetorician, amounts to much the same mistake. Now each person judges well the things he knows, and of these he is a good judge. [1095a] So in each subject the person educated in that subject is a good judge, and without qualification the person educated about everything is. For this reason a young person is not a suitable student of political science; for he is inexperienced in the actions that make up life, while the arguments proceed from these and are about these. Moreover, since he is apt to be led by his feelings, he will listen in vain and without benefit, since the end of this study is not knowledge but action. And it makes no difference whether he is young in years or immature in character; for the deficiency does not come from time but from living, and pursuing each thing, in accordance with feeling. For such people, knowledge becomes profitless, just as it does for those who lack self-control; but for those whose desires and actions are guided by reason, knowledge about these matters would be of great benefit. Let this much stand as our preface concerning the student — how he should receive our claims, and what we are proposing to do. Let us take up the discussion again: since all knowledge and all choice reach for some good, let us say what it is that we say political science aims at, and what the highest of all goods achievable in action is. As far as its name goes, most people are pretty much agreed; for both the many and the refined call it happiness, and they suppose that living well and doing well are the same as being happy. But about what happiness is, they disagree, and the many do not give the same account as the wise. For some say it is one of the things that are evident and visible, such as pleasure or wealth or honor, and different people say different things — and often the same person says different things at different times: when sick, health,
4| when poor, wealth; and being conscious of their own ignorance, they marvel at those who speak of something great and beyond them. Some, however, thought that beyond these many good things there is some other good, existing in its own right, which is the cause of these all being good as well. Now to examine all the opinions would perhaps be rather pointless; it is enough to examine those that are most current or that seem to have some reason behind them. And let us not overlook the fact that arguments proceeding from the starting points differ from arguments proceeding toward the starting points. For Plato too was right to raise this difficulty and to inquire whether the road runs from the starting points or toward them, [1095b] just as on a racecourse the direction can run from the judges toward the finish, or back again. We must begin from what is known, but this is known in two senses: known to us, and known without qualification. Perhaps, then, we ourselves must begin from what is known to us. This is why a person who is to listen adequately to lectures about what is fine and just, and about political matters generally, must have been brought up well in his habits. The bare fact serves as a starting point, and once it is grasped clearly enough, no further account of the reason why is needed; and a person so disposed either already possesses, or could readily lay hold of, first principles. But whoever has neither of these, let him listen to the words of Hesiod: 'That man is best of all who himself understands everything; good too is he who listens to one who speaks well. But whoever neither understands for himself nor, hearing another, lays it to heart — that man is useless.' Let us return to the point from which we digressed. It is not without reason that people seem to grasp the good and happiness from the lives they lead — the many and the most vulgar suppose it to be pleasure, and that is why they are content with the life of enjoyment. For there are three lives that stand out above the rest: the one just mentioned, the political life, and third, the contemplative life. Now the many are utterly
5| These people show themselves slavish in choosing the life of cattle, though they get some credibility because many of those in positions of power feel as Sardanapallus did. But people of refinement and practical bent choose honor: for this is more or less the end of the political life. Yet it appears to be a shallower thing than the good we are looking for, since it seems to lie more in those who honor than in the one honored, while we divine that the good is something of one's own and hard to take away. Further, people seem to pursue honor in order to convince themselves that they are good: at any rate they seek to be honored by those who are practically wise, and by people who know them, and honored for excellence. So it is clear that, on their own view at least, excellence is the stronger thing. And perhaps one might suppose excellence to be more truly the end of the political life than honor is. But this too appears incomplete: for it seems possible for someone to possess excellence while asleep, or to be inactive throughout life, and beyond this to suffer badly and meet with the greatest misfortunes; [1096a] and no one would call a person living that way happy, except to defend a thesis. But enough about these matters: they have been discussed adequately in the popular works as well. Third is the contemplative life, which we shall examine in what follows. As for the money-making life, it is a life under a kind of constraint, and wealth is clearly not the good we are seeking, for it is useful, and for the sake of something else. So one would rather suppose the ends mentioned before to be the good, since they are cherished for their own sake. But it appears that not even they are the good, though many arguments have been mounted for them. Let these matters, then, be set aside. But it is perhaps better to examine the universal good and go through the puzzles about how it is spoken of, even though such an inquiry proves an uphill business because the men who introduced the forms were friends of ours. Still it would seem better, indeed necessary, for the sake of preserving the
6| truth, even to do away with what is one's own, especially for those who are philosophers: for while both are dear, it is a pious duty to honor truth above friends. The men who brought forward this doctrine did not posit forms in cases where they spoke of prior and posterior, and that is exactly why they did not construct a form of numbers. But the good is spoken of both in the category of what a thing is and in that of quality and in that of relation, and what is in its own right, that is, substance, is prior by nature to what is relative (for the relative is like an offshoot and an accident of being); so there could not be some common form set over these. Further, since the good is spoken of in as many ways as being is (for it is spoken of in the category of what a thing is, as god and intellect are called good; and in the category of quality, the virtues; and in the category of quantity, the moderate amount; and in the category of relation, the useful; and in time, the right moment; and in place, a suitable dwelling, and other things of this kind), clearly it could not be one universal thing held in common; otherwise it would be predicated within a single category alone rather than across every category. Further, since for things falling under a single form there is a single science, there would have to be, for all goods, some one science as well; but as it is there are many sciences even of the things that fall under a single category, for example of the right moment: in war it is generalship, in disease it is medicine; and of the moderate amount, in food it is medicine, in exertions it is gymnastic training. One might also raise the puzzle what in the world they mean by the thing itself, if indeed in man-in-himself
7| [1096b] and in a particular man the account of man is one and the same. For as man, they will differ in no way; and if this is so, neither will they differ as good. But then, too, the good will not be more good by being eternal, if indeed a thing that lasts a long while is no whiter than a thing that lasts a single day. The Pythagoreans seem to speak more persuasively about it, in placing the one in the column of goods; and Speusippus too seems to have followed them. But let there be another discussion of these matters. In what has been said, however, a certain challenge shows itself, on the ground that the arguments were not stated about every good, but that things pursued and cherished in their own right are called good in reference to a single form, while the things productive of these, or in some way protective of them, or preventive of their opposites, are called good on account of those goods, and in a different way. Clearly, then, goods would be spoken of in two ways: some in their own right, the others because of these. Separating off, then, the things useful only for the sake of something else from the things good in their own right, let us consider whether the latter are spoken of in reference to a single form. What sort of things would one posit as good in their own right? Is it whatever is pursued even when isolated, such as thinking well and seeing and certain pleasures and honors? For even if we pursue these also for the sake of something else, still one would posit them among the things good in their own right. Or is nothing else good in its own right except the form? In that case the Form will be pointless. But if these things too are among the things good in their own right, the account of the good will have to show itself the same in all of them, just as the account of whiteness is the same in snow and in white lead. But of honor and practical wisdom and pleasure the accounts are different and distinct, precisely
8| in respect of their being good. The good, therefore, is not something common answering to a single form. But then in what way is it spoken of? For it certainly does not resemble things that are homonymous by chance. Is it, rather, because they all derive from one thing or all contribute to one thing, or is it more by analogy? For as sight is in the body, so is intellect in the soul, and so on, one thing in one case, another in another. But perhaps these matters should be set aside for now, since to work them out precisely would belong more properly to another branch of philosophy. The same holds for the form: granting that a single good is asserted as shared across cases, or that some good stands apart and exists in itself, plainly it could not be attainable through action or something a human being could acquire; but it is a good of that attainable sort that we are now seeking. Perhaps someone might think it better to become acquainted with it [1097a] with a view to the goods that are acquirable and achievable in action; for having this as a kind of pattern we shall know better the things that are good for us as well, and if we know them we shall attain them. This argument does have a certain plausibility, but it seems to be out of tune with what happens in the sciences: for all of them, though aiming at some good and seeking to supply what is lacking, leave aside knowledge of the good itself. Yet it is not reasonable that all the practitioners of the crafts should be ignorant of so great an aid and not even seek it. It is also puzzling what benefit a weaver or a carpenter will get, for his own craft, from knowing this same good, or how a person who has beheld the form itself will be more skilled as a doctor or a general. For the doctor plainly does not study health in this way, but the health of a human being, or rather perhaps of this particular human being; for it is individual by individual that he practices medicine. On these matters, then, let this much be said.
9| Let us return once more to the good we are seeking, and ask what it might be. For it appears to be different in different actions and crafts: it is one thing in medicine, another in generalship, and likewise in the rest. What, then, counts as the good belonging to each? Is it not the very thing for whose sake everything else is done? In medicine this is health, in generalship victory, in house-building a house, in another craft something else, and in every action and choice it is the end; for it is for the sake of this that everyone does everything else. So if there is some end of all the things achievable in action, this would be the good achievable in action, and if there are several, these would be it. Thus the argument, by a different route, has arrived at the same point; but this must be made still clearer. Since there evidently are several ends, and we choose some of these for the sake of another, for example wealth, flutes, and instruments generally, it is clear that not all ends are complete ends; but the best good appears to be something complete. So that if there is some one thing alone that is complete, this would be what we are seeking, and if there are several, the most complete of these. Now we call more complete that which is pursued in its own right more than that which is pursued for the sake of something else, and that which is never chosen for the sake of another more complete than the things that are chosen both in their own right and for the sake of it, and, without qualification, complete is that which is always chosen for its own sake and never for the sake of anything else. Happiness above all seems to be a thing of this sort: [1097b] happiness we always choose for itself and never for the sake of something else, whereas honor, pleasure, intellect, and every excellence we choose indeed for their own sakes (for even if nothing resulted from them we would still choose each of them), but we also choose them for the sake of happiness,
10| supposing that through these they will be happy. But no one chooses happiness for the sake of these things, nor in general for the sake of anything else. And the same conclusion appears to follow from self-sufficiency as well: for the complete good is thought to be self-sufficient. And by self-sufficient we mean not what suffices for a man alone, living a solitary life, but what suffices also for parents and children and wife, and in general for friends and fellow citizens, since man is by nature a political being. Yet some boundary must be drawn here, since stretching the circle to include one's father and mother, their forebears, and the friends of one's friends carries the calculation on forever. This, however, must be examined later; for now we lay it down that the self-sufficient is what taken alone makes life choiceworthy and lacking in nothing, and this is what we think happiness to be. Further, we think happiness the most choiceworthy of all things, not counted as one good among others; if it were so counted, it is clear it would be made more choiceworthy by the addition of even the smallest of goods, since the addition produces a superiority of goods, and of goods the greater is always more choiceworthy. Happiness, then, appears to be something complete and self-sufficient, being the end of the things done in action. But perhaps to call happiness the highest good sounds like something generally agreed, and what is wanted is to say still more clearly what it is. This might come about if we grasped the function of man. For just as for a flute-player, a sculptor, or any craftsman, and in general for all things that have a function and a characteristic action, the good and the doing well seem to lie in the function, so it would seem to be for man too, if indeed there is some function belonging to him. Are we then to say that while the carpenter and the shoemaker have their own functions and actions, man has
11| none, but is by nature idle? Or rather, just as eye and hand and foot, and in general each of the parts, evidently has some function, so too one might posit some function for man beyond all these? What then could this be? For merely living appears to be common even to plants, and what is sought is what is peculiar to man. [1098a] We must set apart, then, the life of nutrition and growth. Next would come a life of perception, but this too is evidently common to the horse, the ox, and every animal. There remains, then, a life of action of the part that has reason; and of this, one part has reason as obeying reason, the other as itself possessing it and thinking. And because this life, too, admits a double sense, our concern is with the sense tied to actual operation, since that is judged the stricter meaning. If, then, the function of man is an activity of soul in accordance with reason, or not without reason, and we say that the function of a given individual and of a good individual of that kind is generically the same, as for a lyre-player and a good lyre-player, and this holds without qualification in all cases, the superiority in accordance with the virtue being added to the function—for it is the function of a lyre-player to play the lyre, and of a good one to play it well—if this is so, and we posit the function of man as a certain kind of life, and this life as an activity of soul, and actions accompanied by reason, and the function of a good man as doing these things well and finely, and each thing is completed well according to its own proper virtue—if this is so, the human good turns out to be an activity of soul in accordance with virtue, and if there are more virtues than one, in accordance with the best and most complete of them. And further, in a complete life. For one swallow does not make a spring, nor does one day; nor, likewise, does one day, or a short time, make a man blessed and
12| happy. Let this, then, serve as an outline of the good: for presumably we must first sketch it and fill it in later. It would seem that anyone can advance and articulate what has been well outlined, and that time is a good discoverer or fellow-worker in such things; that is indeed how the advances in the crafts have come about, since it is open to anyone to add what is lacking. And we must also bear in mind what has been said before, and not look for the same degree of exactness in all things alike, but in each case as much as the subject matter admits and as is proper to the inquiry. For the carpenter and the geometer look for the right angle in different ways: the one wants it only so far as it is useful for his work, the other wants to know what it is or what sort of thing it is, since he is a spectator of the truth. We must proceed in the same way in other matters too, so that the side issues do not come to outweigh the main task. [1098b] Nor should we in every case alike demand the reason why; in some cases it is enough that the fact be shown well, as with the starting points—the fact is itself a first thing, a principle. As for starting points, we grasp some through induction, others through sense-perception, others through a settled habit, and still others by different routes. Each must be pursued in the way that suits its nature, and care must be taken that they be well marked off, for they carry great weight for what follows from them. The starting point is thought to be more than half of the whole, and many of the things sought become clear by means of it. We must examine it not only from the conclusion and the premises from which the argument proceeds, but also from what is said about it; for with what is true, all the facts are in harmony, while with what is false, the truth soon clashes. Now goods have been divided into three classes—those called external, those concerned with soul, and those concerned with body—and of these we call the ones concerned with soul the most proper and
13| the greatest goods, and we set down actions and activities of the soul as belonging to the soul. Our statement would therefore stand well said, judged against this belief, a view of long standing and one on which those who pursue philosophy concur. It is also correct in saying that certain actions and activities are the end; for in this way it belongs among the goods of the soul, and not among the external goods. It is also in harmony with our account that the happy man lives well and acts well; for happiness has been said to be more or less a kind of living well and acting well. And all the features that are sought concerning happiness evidently belong to what has been said. For to some it seems to be virtue, to others practical wisdom, to others a kind of wisdom, and to others these things or one of them together with pleasure, or not without pleasure; and others also include external prosperity along with it. Some of these views are held by many people and from long ago, others by a few men of high repute; and it is not reasonable that either group should be wholly mistaken, but rather that they should be right in some one point, or even in most points. Now with those who say it is virtue, or a certain virtue, our account is in harmony; for the activity in accordance with virtue belongs to virtue. But presumably it makes no small difference whether we suppose the highest good to lie in possession or in use, that is, in a state or in an activity. A state can be present in someone and still accomplish no good — take a man asleep [1099a] or otherwise put out of action — yet this cannot happen with the activity, since activity necessarily is doing something, and doing it well. Much as at the Olympic contests the wreath goes not to the handsomest and most powerful entrants, but
14| those who compete (for it is from among these that the winners come), so too among the fine and good things in life it is those who act rightly who come to possess the prizes. And their life is also pleasant in itself. For to feel pleasure is one of the things that belong to the soul, and to each man that is pleasant with respect to which he is said to be a lover of such-and-such, as a horse is pleasant to the lover of horses, and a spectacle to the lover of spectacles; and in the same way just things are pleasant to the lover of justice, and in general things in accordance with virtue are pleasant to the lover of virtue. Now for most people the things that seem pleasant conflict with one another, because these are not pleasant by nature, whereas for the lovers of what is fine the things pleasant by nature are pleasant; and virtuous conduct fits this description, so it gives pleasure to such men and, independently, in its own right. Their life, then, has no need of pleasure as some sort of added ornament, but has its pleasure within itself. For besides what has been said, a man is not good at all if he does not delight in fine actions; no one would call a man just who does not delight in acting justly, nor generous who does not delight in generous actions, and likewise in the other cases. If this is so, actions in accordance with virtue would be pleasant in themselves. But they are also good and fine, and each of them is so to the highest degree, if indeed the good man judges rightly about them; and he judges as we have said. Happiness, then, is the best, the finest, and the most pleasant of things, and these are not divided as in the Delian inscription: most just is what is finest, but best is to be healthy, and pleasantest is to attain what one loves. For all these belong to the best activities; and these,
15| or one of these, the best of them, is what we say happiness is. And yet it evidently also needs external goods in addition, as we said: for it is impossible, or not easy, to do fine actions if one is without equipment. For many actions are done, [1099b] as though through instruments, through friends and wealth and political power; and there are things whose lack disfigures our blessedness, such as good birth, good children, and beauty. For a person who is very ugly in appearance, or of low birth, or solitary and childless, is not very well suited to happiness; and perhaps still less so if he has thoroughly bad children or friends, or had good ones but they have died. As we said, then, happiness seems to need this sort of good fortune added to it as well; and this is why some people rank good fortune together with happiness, and others rank virtue with it. This is also why the question is raised whether happiness is something learned, or acquired by habituation, or trained for in some other way, or whether it comes about by some divine allotment, or even by chance. Now if there is anything at all that is a gift of the gods to human beings, it is reasonable that happiness should be god-given, and god-given above all human things, in proportion as it is the best of them. But this question would perhaps be more proper to another inquiry. Still, it is evident that even if happiness is not sent by the gods but comes about through virtue and some kind of learning or training, it is among the most divine things: for the prize and end of virtue appears to be the best thing there is, and something divine and blessed. And it would also be something widely shared: for it is possible for it to belong to all who are not maimed with respect to virtue, through some kind of learning and care. And if it is better to be happy in this way than through chance, it is reasonable that it should be so, given that the things in accordance with nature are, as far as possible, disposed to be in the finest condition, and likewise the things in accordance with craft and every other cause, and most of all the things in accordance with the best cause of all. But to entrust the greatest and finest thing to chance
16| would be too discordant a thing. What we are looking for is also made clear by the account itself: for happiness has been said to be a certain activity of the soul in accordance with virtue. And of the remaining goods, some must necessarily be present, while others are by nature contributory and useful as instruments. This would also be in agreement with what we said at the start: for we laid it down that the end of political science is the best good, and political science devotes the greatest care to making the citizens of a certain quality, namely good, and disposed to do fine actions. It is reasonable, then, that we call neither an ox nor a horse nor any other animal happy: [1100a] for none of them can take part in this kind of activity. A child likewise is not happy, and for the identical reason: his age keeps him from yet doing such actions; those who are said to be happy at that age are merely being praised in expectation of what is to come. For happiness, as we said, calls for virtue that is whole and a life that is whole. Across a lifetime many reversals and every sort of fortune arise, and even the man most thriving can fall into vast calamities when he is old, as the tale is told of Priam among the events at Troy; and no one counts as happy someone who has run into misfortunes of that kind and ended his life in misery. Should we then call no human being happy at all while he is still alive, but rather, following Solon, must we wait to see the end? And if indeed this is what we must hold, is a person then happy at the moment when he has died? Or is this altogether absurd, especially for us who say happiness is a kind of activity? But if we refuse to call the dead man happy, and that is not Solon's point either, but rather that a human being could then safely be pronounced blessed, since he now stands clear of bad things and disasters, even that claim leaves room for argument: for it is held that good and bad alike can befall the dead, just as they can befall someone alive who is
17| not aware of them, such as honors and dishonors, and the successes and misfortunes of their children and of their descendants generally. But these cases too raise a difficulty: for it is possible that many changes should befall the descendants of a man who has lived blessedly right up to old age and died in accordance with his life's course, and that some of these descendants should be good and meet with a life in keeping with their worth, while others should meet the opposite; and it is clear too that the descendants can stand at every degree of remove from their parents. It would be absurd, then, if the dead man changed along with them too, turning happy at one moment and wretched again the next; but it would be equally absurd if none of what befalls the descendants ever reached the parents, not even for a limited stretch of time. But we must return to the difficulty raised earlier, for perhaps what is now being inquired into can also be seen by way of that one. If, then, we must look to the end and only then congratulate each person as blessed, not because he is blessed but because he was so before, how is it not absurd that, at the very time when a person is happy, what truly holds of him should not be truly said of him [1100b] because we are unwilling to call the living happy on account of their liable to change, and because we have supposed happiness to be something stable and in no way easily changed, while fortunes revolve around the same people many times over? For it is clear that if we were to follow fortunes, we would often call the same person happy and then wretched again, making the happy person out to be a kind of chameleon and someone set on unsound footing. Or is it in no way correct to follow fortunes at all? For it is not in these that doing well or badly consists; rather, as we said, human life needs these in addition, but it is the
18| activities in accordance with virtue that are decisive for happiness, and the opposite activities decisive for its opposite. What has just been discussed as a difficulty bears witness to our account as well. For with respect to none of human works is there such steadfastness as with the activities in accordance with virtue: for these are held to be even more stable than the sciences; and among these activities themselves, the most honored are the most stable, because it is in these above all, and most continuously, that blessed people spend their lives; for this seems to be the reason why forgetfulness of them does not occur. What we are looking for, then, will belong to the happy person, and he will remain such throughout his life: for always, or more than anyone else, he will act and contemplate in accordance with virtue, and he will bear his fortunes in the finest way and in every respect fittingly, given that he is truly good and foursquare, beyond reproach. But since many things happen by chance, differing in magnitude, whether great or small, it is clear that small pieces of good fortune, and likewise small pieces of bad fortune, do not tip the scale of life, whereas great ones, occurring often, will make life more blessed if they turn out well (for such things are by nature suited to add adornment to it, and the use one makes of them is fine and excellent), while if they turn out the opposite way, they crush and maim one's blessedness: for they bring pains and impede many activities. Nevertheless, even in these circumstances what is fine shines through, whenever someone bears many great misfortunes with good grace, not through insensibility but because he is noble and great-souled. And if activities are what is decisive for life, as we said, then no one among the blessed could become wretched: for he will never do hateful and base actions.
19| [1101a] For it is our belief that a person of genuine virtue and good sense meets every turn of fortune becomingly, and from whatever lies at hand always does what is finest, just as a good general makes the most warlike use of the army he has, and a good shoemaker makes the finest shoe out of the leather he is given — and the same way with all the other craftsmen too. And if this is so, the happy person could never become wretched, though of course he will not be blessed either, if he falls into fortunes like Priam's. Nor is he changeable and easily shifted; for he will not be moved from happiness easily, nor by chance misfortunes, but only by great and numerous ones, and out of such misfortunes he would not become happy again in a short time, but if at all, only over some long and complete span, in which he has come to possess great and fine things. What, then, prevents us from calling happy the person who is active in accordance with complete virtue and adequately supplied with external goods, not for some chance length of time but for a complete life? Or must we add that he will also go on living this way and will end his life accordingly, since the future is unclear to us, and we posit happiness as an end, and as complete in every way and altogether? If this is so, we will call blessed among the living those to whom the things we have described belong and will belong — blessed as human beings. Let this much stand as a determination on these matters. As for the fortunes of one's descendants and of all one's friends, to say that they contribute nothing whatever seems altogether too unfriendly a view, and contrary to common opinion; but since the things that happen are many and vary in every way, some bearing on us more, others less, to go through them one by one appears to be a long and endless task, and to speak of the matter in general terms and in outline would perhaps be sufficient. Now if, just as some of the misfortunes that befall a person himself carry a certain weight and bearing upon his life, while others
20| seem lighter, so it is likewise with all the things that happen to one's friends, and each of these affections differs according to whether it befalls the living or the dead — differs far more than whether lawless and terrible deeds are merely set up beforehand in tragedies or actually carried out — then this difference too must be reckoned in, or rather, more likely, the puzzle of whether the dead share in any good or in its opposites must be. For it appears from these considerations that even if something does reach them, whether good or its contrary, it is something faint and small, either absolutely or for them, or if not, still of such a degree and kind as not to make the unhappy happy, nor to take away blessedness from those who are happy. [1101b] The successes of friends, then, and likewise their failures, do appear to contribute something to the dead, but of such a sort and degree that they neither make the happy unhappy nor do anything else of that kind. Now that these matters have been determined, let us examine, concerning happiness, whether it belongs among the things that are praised or rather among the things that are honored; for it is clear at any rate that it is not among the capacities. It appears that everything that is praised is praised for being of a certain quality and for standing in a certain relation to something: we praise the just person and the courageous person and, in general, the good person and virtue on account of their actions and their works, and we praise the strong person and the fast runner and each of the others for being naturally of a certain quality and standing in some relation to something good and excellent. This is clear also from the praises given to the gods; for they appear ridiculous when referred back to us,
21| and this happens because praise comes about through such a reference, as we said. But if praise belongs to things of this kind, then clearly there is no praise for the best things, but something greater and better, as indeed appears: we call the gods blessed and happy, and we call the most divine of men blessed. Likewise too with goods: no one praises happiness the way one praises justice, but rather calls it blessed, as something more divine and better. Eudoxus too seems to have argued well on behalf of pleasure's claim to the prize of excellence; for he thought that the fact that pleasure, though it is among the goods, is not praised, was a sign that it is better than the things that are praised, and that this is what god and the good are like; for it is in reference to these that the other things too are referred. For praise belongs to virtue, since it is on account of virtue that people are capable of doing fine deeds; but encomia belong to deeds, whether of the body or of the soul alike. But perhaps to work these points out with precision is more properly the task of those who have labored over encomia; for us it is clear from what has been said [1102a] that happiness belongs among the things that are honored and complete. And it appears to be so also on account of its being a starting principle; for it is for the sake of this that all of us do everything else, and we posit the starting principle and cause of goods as something honorable and divine. Since happiness is a certain activity of the soul in accordance with complete virtue, we should examine virtue; for perhaps in this way we would also get a better view of happiness. And the true statesman too seems to have devoted himself especially to this subject, since his aim is to make the citizens good and compliant with the
22| laws. Examples of this are found in the lawgivers of Crete and Sparta, and in whatever others of like kind have appeared. And if this inquiry belongs to political science, clearly the investigation would proceed in accordance with our original choice of subject. Now the virtue we must examine is clearly human virtue; for it was the human good and human happiness that we were seeking. And by human virtue we mean not virtue of the body but virtue of the soul, and we call happiness an activity of the soul. If this is so, it is clear that the statesman must have some knowledge about the soul, just as the one who is going to treat the eyes, and indeed the whole body, must have knowledge of them — and all the more so the more honorable and better political science is than medicine; and among physicians, the cultivated ones take a great deal of trouble over gaining knowledge of the body. So the statesman too must study the soul, and must study it for the sake of these ends, and to the extent that is sufficient for what is being investigated; for to work it out with greater precision than this is perhaps more laborious than the matters before us require. Now some things are said about the soul adequately enough even in the popular discussions, and these should be used: for instance, that one part of it is without reason, and another part has reason. Whether these two are marked off from each other the way the body's members and every divisible thing are, or whether they are merely two in definition while naturally inseparable — as the bulge and the hollow are inseparable around the circumference of a circle — makes no difference for our present purpose. Of the part without reason, one part seems to be common and shared with plants — I mean the part that is the cause of nutrition and growth; for one would posit a power of the soul of this kind as belonging to everything that takes nourishment,
23| [1102b] including embryos, and this very same power as belonging also to full-grown beings; for that is more reasonable than positing some other power. This part's virtue, then, appears to be common and not distinctively human; for this part and this capacity seem to be most active precisely during sleep, and the good person and the bad person are hardest to tell apart while sleeping (hence the saying that the fortunate and the miserable pass one whole half of their lives with no distinction between them; and this makes sense, since sleep is a shutting-down of the soul, at least of that in it by which it is termed excellent or bad), except insofar as certain motions do faintly get through, in which case the mental images of decent people turn out to be superior to those of random people. But enough about these matters; the nutritive part must be left aside, since it has by nature no share in human virtue. There appears, however, to be also another nature of the soul that is without reason, yet shares in reason in some way. For in the case of the continent and the incontinent person we praise their reason, and the part of the soul that has reason; for it exhorts them rightly, and toward the best things. But there evidently also exists in them something else, by nature apart from reason, which fights and struggles against reason. For exactly as paralyzed limbs of the body, when their owners choose to move them to the right, instead move off in the opposite direction, to the left, so too it is with the soul: the impulses of incontinent people run in opposite directions. Yet with the body we can actually see the part being dragged off course, whereas with the soul, we see nothing of the kind. Perhaps, though, we should nonetheless suppose that in the soul too there is something apart from reason, opposing and resisting it.
24| But it makes no difference how it is different. This part too appears to share in reason, as we said: at any rate the part of the continent person obeys reason—and perhaps the part in the temperate and courageous person is even more obedient, for in them everything is in harmony with reason. So the irrational too appears to be twofold. For the nutritive part in no way shares in reason, but the appetitive part, and in general the desiring part, shares in it in some way, insofar as it is capable of listening to reason and obeying it. It is in this sense, and not as we speak of the mathematical, that we say a child has reason, or that we have reason in relation to a father and to friends. Admonition, together with every act of rebuke and every act of exhortation, reveals that reason does hold some sway over the irrational part. [1103a] But if we must say that this part too has reason, then what has reason will itself be twofold: one part having it strictly and in itself, the other as something that listens to a father, so to speak. Virtue too is marked off in accordance with this distinction: for we say that some virtues are virtues of thought and others are virtues of character—wisdom, comprehension, and practical wisdom being virtues of thought, generosity and temperance being virtues of character. For when we speak about someone's character we do not say that he is wise or has comprehension, but that he is gentle or temperate; yet we also praise the wise person for his state. And it is the praiseworthy states that we call virtues.