Aristotle · a new plain-English translation from the original language
1| After this we must take up another starting point and speak of what follows. All goods, then, are either external or in the soul, and of these the ones in the soul are more choiceworthy, just as we also distinguish in the exoteric discourses; for practical wisdom, virtue, and pleasure are in the soul, and some or all of these are held by everyone to be an end. Of the things in the soul, some are states or capacities, and others are activities and motions. Let this, then, be laid down, and also concerning virtue, that it is the best disposition or state or capacity of each of the things that has some use or function. [1219a] This is clear from induction; for in every case we posit it this way. For example there is a virtue of a cloak: for it has some function and use, and the best state of the cloak is its virtue. And likewise of a ship and a house and the rest. So also of the soul; for it too has some function. And let the function of the better state be better; and as the states stand to one another, so let the functions arising from them stand to one another. And the function is the end of each thing. It is clear, then, from this, that the function is better than the state.
2| For the end is best as an end; for it is laid down that the end is the best and the last thing, that for the sake of which everything else is. That the function, then, is better than the state and the disposition, is clear. But "function" is said in two ways. For of some things the function is something other than the use, as of house-building the function is a house, not house-building, and of medicine health, not the process of healing or doctoring; but of other things the use is the function, as of sight, seeing, and of mathematical knowledge, contemplation. So it is necessary that, of those things whose function is the use, the use be better than the state. These matters having been distinguished in this way, we say that the function of the thing and of its virtue is the same, but not in the same manner. For example, of the shoemaking craft and of the practice of shoemaking, the shoe: if, then, there is some virtue of the shoemaking craft and of a good shoemaker, the function is a good shoe. And in the same manner in the other cases too. Further, let the function of the soul be to cause living, and of this the use and being awake; for sleep is a kind of inactivity and rest. So since the function must be one and the same for the soul and for its virtue, the function of virtue would be a good life.
3| This, then, is the complete good, which was happiness. This is clear from what has been laid down (for happiness was the best thing, and ends are in the soul and among the best of goods, and happiness itself is either a state or an activity); since activity is better than disposition, and the best activity better than the best state, and virtue is the best state, the activity of virtue must be the best thing belonging to the soul. And happiness too was the best thing. Happiness, then, is an activity of a good soul. And since happiness was something complete, and life is both complete and incomplete, and virtue likewise (for the one is whole, the other a part), and the activity of incomplete things is incomplete, happiness would be an activity of a complete life in accordance with complete virtue. That we state its genus and its definition correctly, the things that seem so to all of us bear witness.
4| [1219b] For "faring well" and "living well" are the same as "being happy," each of which is a use and an activity, and so are living and acting (for the practical too is a using; for the smith makes a bridle, but the horseman uses it); and also the fact that neither a single day, nor a child, nor every age makes one happy (which is why the saying of Solon is right too, not to call the living happy but only when he has reached his end; for nothing incomplete is happy, since it is not whole); further, praises of virtue are given because of deeds, and encomia are of deeds; and it is the winners who are crowned, not those capable of winning but not winning; and judging what sort of person someone is comes from his deeds; further, why is happiness not praised? Because it is on account of it that the other things are praised, either by being referred to it or by being parts of it. Hence felicitation, praise, and encomium are different. For an encomium is an account of some particular deed; praise is of being such-and-such generally; but felicitation is of an end. And what is sometimes puzzled over is also clear from this: why the good are in no way better than the base for half of life.
5| For all are alike when asleep. The cause is that sleep is an inactivity of the soul, not an activity. Hence too, if there is some other part of the soul, such as the nutritive part, its virtue is not a part of the whole virtue, just as the virtue of the body is not either; for in sleep the nutritive part is more active, but the perceptive and desiring parts are incomplete in sleep. But to the extent that they share in some kind of motion, the images occurring to the good are also better, unless it is on account of disease or mutilation. After this we must examine the soul; for virtue belongs to the soul, not incidentally. Since we are seeking human virtue, let it be laid down that the soul has two parts that share in reason, though not both sharing in reason in the same way, but one by nature fitted to command, the other to obey and listen; and if there is some other part irrational in a different way, let this part be set aside. It makes no difference whether the soul is divisible or indivisible; it has, however, different capacities, including the ones mentioned, just as in a curved thing the concave and the convex are inseparable, and so are the straight and the white; yet the straight is not white, except incidentally, and not as the substance of the same thing.
6| Also excluded is any other part of the soul there may be, for instance the nutritive part. For the parts just mentioned are peculiar to the human soul; that is why the virtues of the nutritive and growing part are not human virtues either — for if one is to act qua human being, reasoning must be present, and a starting-point, and action, [1220a] and reasoning governs not reasoning but desire and the affections; so these parts must necessarily be present. And just as good bodily condition is composed of the virtues of the several parts, so too is the virtue of the soul, insofar as it is an end. Virtue is of two kinds, the ethical and the intellectual. For we praise not only the just but also the intelligent and the wise; virtue, or its work, was posited as what is praiseworthy, and these do not perform an activity, but there are activities of them. Since the intellectual virtues involve reason, such virtues belong to the part that has reason, which is the commanding part of the soul insofar as it has reason; the ethical virtues belong to the part that is without reason but is by nature such as to follow the part that has reason — for we do not say what someone's character is like by calling him wise or clever, but by calling him gentle or rash. After this we must first examine ethical virtue: what it is, what its parts are (for the inquiry has been brought round to this), and through what it comes about. One must inquire as everyone does when they inquire while already possessing something, so as always to try, by way of things truly said but not clearly, to grasp what is both true and clear.
7| For at present we are in the same position as if, concerning health too, we knew that it is the best condition of the body, and that Coriscus is the darkest man in the marketplace: for we do not know what each of these actually is, yet being in this state is a step toward knowing what each of them is. Let it be laid down, then, first, that the best condition arises from the best things, and that the best actions concerning each thing come from the virtue of that thing — for instance, the best exercises and diet are those from which good condition arises, and it is from good condition that people exercise best; further, that every condition arises from, and is destroyed by, the same things applied in a certain manner, as health is affected by diet, exercise, and season. This is clear from induction. Virtue, then, is a condition of this kind: it arises from the best motions concerning the soul, and it is the source from which the best works and affections of the soul are produced, and it arises and is destroyed by the same things applied in a certain way, and its use bears on the same things by which it is both increased and destroyed, disposing it toward what is best. A sign of this is that virtue and vice both concern pleasant and painful things: for punishments, being cures, and coming about through opposites, are, as in other cases, brought about through these.
8| That ethical virtue, then, concerns pleasant and painful things is clear. Since character (ēthos), as the very word indicates, gets its growth from habit (ethos), [1220b] and one is habituated, when not innate, by repeatedly being moved in a certain way, until this becomes actually operative — a thing we do not see in inanimate things (for however many thousand times you throw a stone upward, it will never do this except by force) — therefore let character be defined as this: a quality of the part of the soul that is without reason but capable of following the commanding reason. We must state, then, in respect of what the soul's characters are qualities. It is in respect of the capacities for the affections, in virtue of which people are called subject to affections, and in respect of the states, in virtue of which people are said to be related to these affections by being affected in a certain way or by being unaffected. After this comes the division among the affections, the capacities, and the states, taken separately. By affections I mean things such as these: spirit, fear, shame, appetite — in general, things generally followed by perceptible pleasure or pain in themselves. In respect of these there is no quality, but one is affected; in respect of the capacities there is quality. By capacities I mean those in virtue of which people who act on the affections are so called — for instance, quick-tempered, unfeeling, amorous, bashful, shameless. States are whatever are responsible for these being present either in accordance with reason or in the contrary way — for instance, courage, temperance, cowardice, self-indulgence.
9| Now that these have been distinguished, we must grasp that in everything continuous and divisible there is excess, deficiency, and a mean, and these either relative to one another or relative to us — as in gymnastics, in medicine, in building, in navigation, and in any action whatever, whether scientific or unscientific, whether skilled or unskilled. For motion is continuous, and action is a kind of motion. In all cases the mean relative to us is best: for this is as knowledge and reason direct. And everywhere this is what produces the best state. This is clear both from induction and from argument. For contraries destroy one another, and the extremes are contrary both to each other and to the mean: for the mean is each extreme relative to the other, as the equal is greater than the lesser and less than the greater. So ethical virtue must necessarily concern certain means and be a kind of mean state. We must grasp, then, what kind of mean is virtue, and concerning what sort of means. Let this be taken for the sake of example, and let each case be studied from the outline. Irascibility — Unfeelingness — Gentleness. Rashness — Cowardice — Courage.
10| [1221a] Shamelessness — Bashfulness — A sense of shame. Self-indulgence — Insensibility — Temperance. Envy — No name — Righteous indignation. Gain — Loss — The just. Wastefulness — Stinginess — Generosity. Boastfulness — Self-deprecation — Truthfulness. Flattery — Being disagreeable — Friendliness. Obsequiousness — Surliness — Dignity. Softness — Love of hardship — Endurance. Vanity — Smallness of soul — Greatness of soul. Extravagance — Pettiness — Magnificence. Cunning — Simple-mindedness — Practical wisdom. These, and things like them, are the affections that occur in souls, and all are said to occur either by excess or by deficiency. For the quick-tempered man is one who is angry more than he should be, and more quickly, and at more people than he should be angry at; the unfeeling man is one who is deficient in whom, when, and how he is angry. The rash man is one who fears neither what he should, nor when, nor how; the coward is one who fears both what he should not, and when he should not, and how he should not. Likewise the self-indulgent man, and the man ruled by appetite, is the one who exceeds in everything it is possible to exceed in, while the insensible man is one who is deficient and desires not even so much as is better and in accordance with nature, but is unaffected like a stone. The greedy man is one who seeks advantage from every quarter; the man prone to loss is one who does so from no quarter, or from few. The boaster is one who claims more for himself than he has; the self-deprecator is one who claims less. The flatterer is one who joins in praising more than is right; the disagreeable man, less. Excessive eagerness to please is obsequiousness; slight and grudging eagerness is surliness. Further, the man who cannot bear any pain, not even if it were better for him, is soft; the man who bears all pain alike has, strictly speaking, no name, but is called by metaphor hard, wretched, and given to hardship.
11| The vain man is one who thinks himself worthy of greater things than he is; the small-souled man, of lesser things. Further, the wasteful man is one who exceeds in every kind of expenditure; the stingy man is one who is deficient in every kind. Likewise the petty man and the ostentatious man: the latter exceeds what is fitting, the former falls short of what is fitting. And the cunning man seeks advantage in every way and from every quarter; the simple man does not, even from where he should. The envious man is pained at more instances of others' good fortune than he should be pained at (for even those who deserve to fare well pain the envious by faring well); the opposite type is rather more nameless,
12| [1221b] The person who exceeds does so by not being pained even at people who do not deserve their good fortune, but is easygoing about it, the way gluttons are easygoing toward food; the person who is deficient is hard to please, in the manner of envy. But to define, for each particular case, how someone stands toward it non-accidentally in this way is a needless refinement; for no branch of knowledge, whether theoretical or productive, states or practices this while adding such further specification — that belongs rather to the sophistical objections raised against the logical crafts. Let it be defined in this rough way for now, then, and more precisely when we speak about the opposed states. Now species of these very affections get their separate names by differing in respect of the excess either of time, or of degree, or in relation to one of the things that produce the affections. I mean, for example: a person is called quick-tempered by being affected faster than he should be; harsh and hot-tempered by being affected more than he should; bitter by being someone who keeps his anger stored up; and a striker and a reviler by the punishments he inflicts out of anger. People are called dainty eaters, gluttons, and wine-lovers by having their capacity for being affected, toward the enjoyment of one kind of food or drink or another, run beyond reason. But one must not fail to notice that some of the things named are not simply a matter of how one takes them, even where the taking in question is by way of being affected more.
13| For example, a man is not called an adulterer by approaching another man's wife more than he should — for there is no "should" here at all — but this is itself already a kind of vice. For in this word both the affection and the being of such-and-such a character are taken together as one. And outrage is similar. That is why people dispute the charge: they admit to having had intercourse, but not to having committed adultery, since they acted in ignorance or under compulsion; and to having struck someone, but not to having committed outrage; and likewise in other such cases. Now that these points have been taken, it must next be said that, since the soul has two parts, and the virtues are divided correspondingly to these — some belonging to the part that possesses reason, namely the intellectual virtues, whose work is truth, whether about how a thing stands or about its coming to be; others belonging to the part that is without reason but possesses desire (for it is not just any part of the soul, if it is divisible into parts, that possesses desire) — it is necessary that a character be base or excellent by pursuing and avoiding certain pleasures and pains. This is clear from the divisions concerning the affections, the capacities, and the states. For the capacities and the states belong to the affections, and the affections themselves are marked off by pain and pleasure; so that, both for these reasons and because of the positions laid down earlier, it follows that every ethical virtue is concerned with pleasures and pains.
14| For every soul, in respect of the very things by which it is naturally disposed to become worse or better, has its pleasure directed toward and concerned with these same things. [1222a] And we say people are base on account of pleasures and pains, by pursuing and avoiding either in a manner they should not, or things they should not. That is also why everyone readily defines the virtues as a freedom from affection and a calm concerning pleasures and pains, and the vices as the opposite of this. But since it is laid down that virtue is that state from which people are capable of doing what is best, and in accordance with which they are best disposed with respect to what is best, and since what is best and finest is what accords with right reason, and this is the mean, relative to us, between excess and deficiency, it would necessarily follow that ethical virtue, taken for each person by himself, is a mean, and is concerned with certain middle points among pleasures and pains and among pleasant and painful things. The mean will lie sometimes among pleasures (for there too there is excess and deficiency), sometimes among pains, and sometimes among both. For the person who exceeds by delighting in what is pleasant exceeds, and so does the one who exceeds by being pained at its opposite, and this either without qualification or in relation to some standard — for instance, when he does not feel as most people do; while the good person feels as he should. Since, further, there is a state from which the one who has it will be such that, with respect to the very same thing, one person embraces the excess and another the deficiency, it is necessary that, just as these are opposed both to each other and to the mean, so too the states are opposed to each other and to virtue.
15| It happens, however, that in some cases both oppositions are equally evident, in others the one toward excess is more evident, and in still others the one toward deficiency. The cause of this difference is that the inequality, or the closeness, to the mean does not always fall the same way; rather, sometimes one would move more quickly from the excess to the middle state, sometimes from the deficiency — and whichever extreme is further removed from the mean is held to be the more contrary to it. For example, with the body, in matters of exertion, excess is healthier than deficiency and nearer to the mean, while in matters of food, deficiency is healthier than excess. So too the deliberately chosen states that love exercise will, according to each of the two choices, be more health-loving in different ways — in one case those that work harder, in the other those that hold back more; and the one opposed to the moderate and to what reason prescribes is, in the one case, the person averse to exertion, and not both extremes together, while in the other case it is the person given to indulgence, and not the one given to going hungry. This happens because nature, from the outset, is not removed from the mean equally in every respect, but we are less inclined to hard work and more inclined to indulgence. The same holds concerning the soul as well. And we set down as the contrary that state into which we fall more readily, and into which most people fall, while the other state, as if it did not exist, escapes notice —
16| for because it is rare, it goes unnoticed — for example, we set anger as contrary to gentleness, and the irascible person as contrary to the gentle one. [1222b] And yet there is also an excess in the direction of being gracious, of being conciliatory, and of not growing angry even when struck. But few people are like this, and everyone leans more toward the other extreme instead. That is also why spiritedness is not a matter of flattery. Now that the survey of the states, taken according to each of the affections, has been carried out — the excesses and deficiencies, and the opposed states, in respect of which people stand in accordance with right reason (what right reason is, and by looking to what standard one should speak of the mean, must be examined later) — it is clear that all the ethical virtues and vices are excesses and deficiencies concerning pleasures and pains, and that pleasures and pains arise from the states and affections already mentioned. But indeed the best state with regard to each thing is the middle one. It is clear, then, that the virtues will be either all of them, or some of them, these very means. Let us, then, take up another starting point for the inquiry that follows. All substances that exist by nature are, in a way, principles, and that is why each of them is capable of generating many things like itself — for example, a human being generates human beings, and, being an animal at all, generates animals in general, and a plant generates plants. And besides this, the human being alone among the animals is also a principle of certain actions —
17| for we would not say that any of the other animals acts. Among principles of this kind, those from which motions first arise are called sovereign, and most justly so in the case of those from which it is not possible for things to be otherwise — a sovereignty which, perhaps, is what God exercises. But among unmoved principles, such as the mathematical ones, there is no such sovereignty, although it is spoken of by way of resemblance; for there too, if the principle were changed, it would above all be the things demonstrated from it that would change, while they do not change themselves through one being destroyed by another, except by destroying the hypothesis and proving through that. But the human being is a principle of a certain motion, for action is motion. Now since, just as in other cases, the principle is the cause of the things that exist or come to be on account of it, we must understand the matter as we do in the case of demonstrations. For if, given that the triangle has two right angles, it is necessary that the quadrilateral have four right angles, it is clear that the cause of this is the triangle's having two right angles. And if the triangle changes, the quadrilateral must change too — for example, if the triangle comes to three right angles, the quadrilateral comes to six, and if four, to eight. And even if it does not change, but is of a certain sort, that other thing too must necessarily be of that same sort. And it is clear from the Analytics that what we are attempting to show is necessary:
18| But as things stand it is possible neither to say nothing nor to speak with precision, except to this extent: if nothing else is the cause of the triangle's being as it is, this would be a starting point and cause of what comes after. So that if indeed some of the things that are admit of being otherwise, their principles too must necessarily be of this kind. [1223a] For what results from necessary things is necessary, but from these other things it is possible for the contraries to come about, and whatever is up to human beings themselves — many things of this sort exist — and they themselves are the principles of such things. So that of whatever actions a human being is the principle and is in control, it is clear that it is possible both for them to come about and not to come about, and that it is up to him whether these come about or not, of whatever things he is in control of their being and not being. Whatever a person is able to do or not do, he himself is the cause of these; and of whatever he is the cause, it is up to him. Since virtue and vice, and the deeds that come from them, are in part praiseworthy and in part blameworthy (for praise and blame are not given for what belongs to us of necessity or by chance or by nature, but for whatever we ourselves are the cause of — for whatever another is the cause of, that other bears the blame and the praise), it is clear that virtue and vice too are concerned with these things of which one is oneself the cause and the starting point of actions. We must therefore grasp of what sort of things a person is himself the cause and the starting point of actions. Now we all agree that whatever is voluntary and in accordance with each person's own choice, that person is the cause of; but whatever is involuntary, he is not himself the cause of.
19| And everything a person does by choosing, he clearly also does willingly. It is clear, then, that virtue and vice too would belong among things voluntary. We must therefore grasp what the voluntary is and what the involuntary is, and what choice is, since virtue and vice are defined by reference to these. First we must examine the voluntary and the involuntary. It would seem that this must be one of three things: either in accordance with desire, or in accordance with choice, or in accordance with thought — the voluntary being in accordance with one of these, the involuntary being contrary to one of these. But indeed desire divides into three: wish, spirit, and appetite; so these must be divided, and first with respect to appetite. It would seem that everything in accordance with appetite is voluntary. For everything involuntary seems to be forced, and the forced is painful, as is everything that people do or undergo under compulsion, as Evenus too says — for every compelled thing is by nature painful. So that if a thing is painful, it is forced, and if forced, painful. But everything contrary to appetite is painful (for appetite is of what is pleasant), so it is forced and involuntary. Therefore what is in accordance with appetite is voluntary —
20| for these are opposite to one another. Further, wickedness in every case makes one more unjust, and lack of self-control seems to be a form of wickedness, and the person who lacks self-control is the sort who acts in accordance with appetite against reasoning, and he displays lack of self-control whenever he acts on it; and acting unjustly is voluntary, [1223b] so that the person who lacks self-control will act unjustly by acting in accordance with appetite; therefore he will act willingly, and what is in accordance with appetite is voluntary; and indeed it would be absurd if people became more just by becoming lacking in self-control. — From these considerations, then, it would seem that what is in accordance with appetite is voluntary, but from the following, the opposite. For everything a person does willingly, he does because he wishes it, and what he wishes, he does willingly. But no one wishes for what he thinks is bad. Yet the person who lacks self-control does not do what he wishes: for acting through appetite against what one thinks is best is what lacking self-control is. So that it will follow that the same person acts both willingly and unwillingly at the same time; but this is impossible. Further, the person with self-control will act justly, and more so than the person who lacks it. For self-control is a virtue, and virtue makes people more just. And a person exercises self-control whenever he acts against appetite in accordance with reasoning. So that if acting justly is voluntary, just as acting unjustly is (for both of these seem to be voluntary, and necessarily, if one of the two is voluntary, so is the other), while what is contrary to appetite is involuntary, then the same person will at the same time do the same thing both willingly and unwillingly. And the same account holds also concerning spirit. For lack of self-control and self-control seem to concern spirit too, just as they concern appetite —
21| and what is contrary to spirit is painful, and holding it back is forced, so that if the forced is involuntary, everything in accordance with spirit would be voluntary. And Heraclitus too seems to say this, looking to the strength of spirit, that restraining it is painful: "for it is hard," he says, "to fight against spirit; for it buys what it wants at the cost of soul." But if it is impossible for the same person to act both willingly and unwillingly at the same time with respect to the same thing, what is in accordance with wish is more voluntary than what is in accordance with appetite and spirit. And here is evidence: we do many things willingly without anger and without appetite. It remains, then, if the voluntary and what accords with wish are the same, to examine this. But this too appears impossible. For it is our premise, and it seems true, that wickedness makes people more unjust, while lack of self-control appears to be a kind of wickedness; but the opposite will result. For no one wishes for what he thinks is bad, yet he does it when he becomes lacking in self-control; if, then, acting unjustly is voluntary, and the voluntary is what accords with wish, then whenever a person becomes lacking in self-control, he will no longer be acting unjustly, but will be more just than before he became lacking in self-control. But this is impossible. It is clear, then, that the voluntary is not acting in accordance with desire, nor is the involuntary acting contrary to desire —
22| and that it is not in accordance with choice either is again clear from the following. What is in accordance with wish has been shown not to be involuntary, [1224a] but rather everything a person wishes is also voluntary (but it has been shown only that it is possible to act willingly even without wishing it); but we do many things willingly all of a sudden, whereas no one chooses anything suddenly. And if the voluntary was necessarily one of these three things — in accordance with desire, or in accordance with choice, or in accordance with thought — and two of these are not it, it remains that the voluntary consists in acting in some way that involves thinking. Further, let us carry the argument a little further and put a final touch on the determination of the voluntary and the involuntary. For doing something by force and not by force seems to be closely related to what has been said: for the forced is involuntary, and we say that everything involuntary is forced. So we must first examine the forced — what it is, and how it stands in relation to the voluntary and the involuntary. Now the forced and the necessary seem to be opposed, and force and necessity seem opposed, to the voluntary and to persuasion, in the case of actions. But in general we speak of the forced and the necessary also in the case of inanimate things: for we say that a stone is carried upward and fire downward by force and under compulsion. But when these move in accordance with their nature and their own proper impulse, they are not said to move by force, yet they are not said to move voluntarily either — rather this opposition has no name.
23| But whenever they move contrary to this, we say it is by force. Likewise also in the case of ensouled beings and animals we see many things done and undergone by force, whenever something from outside moves them contrary to the impulse within them. In inanimate things the principle is simple, but in ensouled things it is more complex; for desire and reason do not always agree. So that in the case of the other animals the forced is simple, just as in inanimate things (for they do not have reason and a desire opposed to it, but live by desire alone); but in a human being both are present, and at a certain age, at which we also attribute action to a person. For we do not say that the infant acts, nor the wild beast, but only the one who already acts through reasoning. Now it seems that everything forced is painful, and no one does something by force while also enjoying it. This is why the greatest dispute concerns the person with self-control and the person without it. For each of them acts on himself while having opposed impulses, so that the person with self-control, it is said, drags himself away by force from pleasant appetites (for he feels pain in dragging himself away against the desire that resists), while the person without self-control acts by force against reasoning. But he seems to feel less pain: for appetite is of the pleasant, which he follows while enjoying it, so that the person without self-control acts more willingly and not by force, because it is not painful for him.
24| Persuasion is opposed to force and necessity. The self-controlled person is led by what he has been persuaded of, and proceeds not by force but willingly. [1224b] But appetite leads without persuading — for it has no share in reason. That these people alone seem to act by force and unwillingly, and for what cause — namely, because of a certain resemblance to the case of force, the sense in which we speak of force even in the case of inanimate things — has been stated. But nevertheless, if one adds the qualification appended in the definition, the point just made is resolved even there. For whenever something from outside, contrary to the impulse within, moves or brings to rest, we call it force; whenever not, not force. But in the unrestrained and the self-controlled person, the impulse in accordance with himself, being present within, leads (for he has both): so that neither of the two acts by force, but on this account each would act willingly, and not under compulsion. For we call necessity the external principle — the one contrary to the impulse — that either impedes or moves, as if someone took hold of a person's hand and struck someone with it while he resisted with both his wish and his appetite. But whenever the principle is from within, it is not by force. Further, both pleasure and pain are present in both cases. For the self-controlled person, too, feels pain, when he is already acting contrary to his appetite, and feels the pleasure that comes from hope, because he will be benefited later, or is even already being benefited, being in health.
25| And the unrestrained person, too, feels pleasure when, acting without restraint, he gets what he desires, but feels the pain that comes from hope, for he thinks he is doing something bad. So that there is some sense in saying that each of the two acts by force, and that each, because of desire in one case and because of reasoning in the other, sometimes acts unwillingly; for since these two are separate, each is knocked aside by the other. This is why people even transfer the point to the soul as a whole, because they see something of this sort within the soul. Now in the case of the parts it is possible to say this; but the whole soul of both the unrestrained and the self-controlled person acts willingly, and neither acts by force, but rather something within them does, since we also have both by nature. For reason too exists by nature, in that, if its generation is allowed to proceed and is not maimed, it will be present; and so does appetite, in that it follows and is present in us straight from birth. It is roughly by these two marks that we distinguish what is by nature: by whatever follows all things straight from birth, and by whatever comes to develop straight, for us, if its generation is allowed to proceed — for example, gray hair and old age and other such things. So that it is not the case that each of the two acts in accordance with nature in the same sense; rather, each acts in accordance with nature simply speaking, but not the same nature. These, then, are the puzzles concerning the unrestrained and the self-controlled person, about whether both, or one of the two, act by force, so that either they act unwillingly, or willingly and by force at once — and if what is by force is involuntary, then they act willingly and unwillingly at once.
26| From what has been said it is now roughly clear to us how we should answer. [1225a] But people are also said, in another way, to act by force and under compulsion, when reason and desire are not at odds, whenever they do something that they suppose to be both painful and base, but which, if they did not do it, would bring blows or bonds or death. For they say they were compelled to do these things. Or is this not so, but rather do all such people do this very thing willingly? For it is possible not to do it, but instead to undergo that suffering. Further, perhaps one would say this holds of some of these cases and not others. For whenever it is up to the person himself whether such a thing occurs or not, then whatever he does that he does not wish to do, he does willingly, and not by force; but whenever it is not up to him, he acts by force in a sense, though not simply speaking, because he does not choose this very thing that he does for its own sake, but for the sake of something else — since even among these cases there is a certain difference. For if a person, groping in the dark, should kill someone in order not to be caught, he would be ridiculous if he said that he acted by force and under compulsion; rather, the evil he would suffer by not doing it must be greater and more painful. For in that way he will be acting under compulsion, and not by force — or not by nature — whenever he does something bad for the sake of something good, or to be released from a greater evil, and unwillingly at that.
27| For these things are not up to him. This is why many people classify erotic love as involuntary, and likewise certain fits of anger and natural impulses, because they are strong and beyond nature; and we grant forgiveness for them, on the ground that nature is naturally disposed to be forced. And a person would seem more to act by force and unwillingly when it is in order not to suffer intense pain, than when it is in order not to suffer mild pain, and in general more when it is in order not to suffer pain than when it is in order not to fail to feel pleasure. For what is up to a person — the thing to which the whole matter is referred back — is what his own nature is capable of bearing; whatever it is not capable of bearing, and whatever does not belong to that person's nature of desire or reasoning, is not up to him. This is why, in the case of those who are possessed and who prophesy, even though they are performing a work of thought, we nevertheless say that it is not up to them either to say what they said or to do what they did. But surely it is not because of appetite either. So that certain thoughts and affections too are not up to us, nor are the actions that follow such thoughts and reasonings, but rather, as Philolaus said, there are certain accounts that are stronger than we are. So that if we needed to examine the voluntary and involuntary also in relation to force, let this point be distinguished in this way (for those who most impede the voluntary, as though acting by force, in fact act willingly).
28| Since this point has reached its conclusion, and the voluntary has been defined neither by desire nor by choice, it remains, then, to define it in terms of thought. [1225b] It seems that the voluntary is opposed to the involuntary, and that acting while knowing — whether the person one acts on, or the instrument, or the end for the sake of which — (for sometimes one knows that it is one's father, but not that it is in order to kill him, but in order to save him, as the daughters of Pelias did; or one knows this as a drink, but as a love-charm and wine, when in fact it was hemlock) is opposed to acting in ignorance — of the person, or the instrument, or the object — because of ignorance, and not accidentally; and what is done because of ignorance — of the object, the instrument, and the person — is involuntary. The opposite, therefore, is voluntary. So whatever a person does that was up to him not to do, and does without being in ignorance and because of himself, these must necessarily be voluntary, and this is what the voluntary is; whatever he does in ignorance, and because of his ignorance, is unwilling. But since understanding and knowing are said in two ways — one, having the knowledge; the other, using the knowledge — a person who has it but does not use it might in one sense be justly said to be ignorant, and in another sense not justly, as for example if he failed to use it through negligence. Likewise, a person who does not have the knowledge might also be blamed, if he does not have something that was easy or necessary to have, because of negligence or pleasure or pain.
29| These points, then, must be further distinguished. Let the voluntary and the involuntary, then, be distinguished in this way; and after this let us speak about choice, first working through the puzzles about it in argument. For one might be uncertain to what genus it belongs by nature and in what class it should be placed, and whether the voluntary and the object of choice are not the same, or are the same. Above all it is said by some — and to one who investigates it would seem — that choice is one of two things, either opinion or desire; for both appear to accompany it. Now that it is not desire is clear. For it would have to be either wish, or appetite, or spirit; for no one desires anything without being affected by one of these. Now spirit and appetite belong to beasts as well, but choice does not. Further, even in those in whom both of these are present, they choose many things without spirit or appetite; and when in the grip of such affections, they do not choose but hold firm. Further, appetite and spirit are always accompanied by pain, but we choose many things without pain. But surely wish and choice are not the same either. For people wish for some of the same things even while knowing them to be impossible — for example, to be king of all mankind, and to be immortal — but no one chooses what he does not fail to recognize is impossible, nor in general things that are possible but that he thinks are not up to him to do or not do.
30| So this much is clear: what is chosen must be one of the things that are up to oneself. [1226a] And it is equally clear that it is not opinion, nor simply believing something. For what is chosen was one of the things up to oneself, but we hold opinions about many things that are not up to us — for instance, that the diagonal is commensurable. Again, choice is not true or false. Nor, further, is it the opinion, about things that are practicable and up to oneself, by which we happen to think that something ought to be done or not done. This point is common to opinion and wish alike: no one chooses an end, but rather the things that lead to the end. I mean, for example, no one chooses to be healthy, but rather to walk about or to sit, for the sake of being healthy; nor to be happy, but to make money or take a risk for the sake of being happy. And in general, whenever someone chooses, it is always evident both what he chooses and for the sake of what he chooses it; and the "for the sake of what" is that for the sake of which he chooses something else, while the "what" is the thing he chooses for the sake of something else. But it is the end above all that one wishes for, and one holds the opinion that one ought to be healthy and to fare well. So it is clear from this that choice is something other than both opinion and wish. For wishing and opinion are directed above all at the end, but choice is not. That choice, then, is neither wish nor opinion nor supposition taken simply, is clear.
31| But how does it differ from these, and how does it stand in relation to the voluntary? At the same time it will become clear what choice is. Among things capable of both being and not being, some are such that it is possible to deliberate about them, while about others it is not possible. For some things are capable of both being and not being, but their coming to be is not up to us — some come about through nature, others through other causes — and about these no one would attempt to deliberate, unless in ignorance. But about the things where not only being and not-being are possible, but also deliberation on the part of human beings, these are all the things it is up to us to do or not to do. That is why we do not deliberate about the affairs of the Indians, nor about how the circle might be squared. The former are not up to us; the latter is simply not something practicable at all. But neither do we deliberate about all the practicable things that are up to us.] (This also makes it clear that choice is not simply opinion.) And the things that are chosen and practicable are among the things that are up to us. That is why one might raise the puzzle: why is it that doctors deliberate about matters within their own science, while grammarians do not?
32| The cause is this: since error comes about in two ways — either we err in reasoning, or in the very doing of the thing according to perception — in medicine it is possible to err in both ways, but in grammar only in perception and action, [1226b] concerning which, if one were to keep examining, one would go on to infinity. Since, then, choice is neither opinion nor wish, taken as either one alone, nor both together either (for no one chooses on a sudden, though he does seem, on a sudden, both to do something and to wish it), it must be, as it were, from both. For both are present in the one who chooses. But how it comes from these must be looked into. And the word itself makes this somewhat clear. For choice (proairesis) is indeed a taking (hairesis), but not simply that — rather, a taking of one thing before another; and this cannot occur without examination and deliberation. That is why choice comes from a deliberative opinion. Now no one deliberates about the end — this stands fixed for everyone — but about the things tending toward it: whether this or that tends toward it, or, given that it has been decided, how it will come about. And we all deliberate about this until we trace the origin of the coming-to-be back to ourselves. If, then, no one chooses without having prepared himself and deliberated whether it is worse or better, and one deliberates about all the things, among those up to us, that are capable of both being and not being and that bear on the end, it is clear that choice is a deliberative desire for what is up to oneself. For we all deliberate about the very things we also choose, though not everything we deliberate about do we also choose.
33| By "deliberative" I mean a desire whose starting point and cause is deliberation, and which reaches out toward its object because of the deliberating. That is why choice is found neither in the other animals, nor at every age, nor in a human being in every condition. For neither is deliberation found there, nor a grasp of the reason why; but there is nothing to prevent many from having the opinion that something ought to be done or not done, while reasoning it through by calculation is another matter. For the deliberative part of the soul is the part that contemplates a certain cause. For the "for the sake of which" is one of the causes; for the "because of what" is a cause, and that for the sake of which something is or comes to be, this we say is a cause — for instance, the collecting of money is a cause of walking, if he walks for the sake of this. That is why those who have set no goal before themselves are not deliberative. So then, since what is up to oneself is either to act or not to act, and if someone acts or refrains through himself and not through ignorance, he acts or refrains willingly, and yet we do many such things without having deliberated or thought ahead, it must be that everything chosen is voluntary, but not everything voluntary is chosen, and that all things done by choice are voluntary, but not all involuntary things fail to be by choice.
34| At the same time it is clear from this also that those legislators do well who mark off some of the affections as voluntary, others as involuntary, and others as out of forethought: [1227a] for even if they do not draw the line with precision, still they touch on the truth in some way. But we shall speak about these matters in our examination concerning just acts. That choice is neither simply wish nor simply opinion is clear, but rather opinion together with desire, whenever these are brought to a conclusion out of deliberation. Now since the one who deliberates always deliberates for the sake of something, and there is always some goal for the one deliberating, with reference to which he examines what is advantageous, no one deliberates about the end — this is a starting point and a supposition, just as in the theoretical sciences the suppositions are (we have spoken about these briefly in the opening remarks, and with precision in the Analytics) — but the inquiry, both by those with a craft and those without one, concerns the things that lead toward the end, for instance, whether they should go to war or not go to war — this is what people deliberate about. And what is the "because of which," that is, the "for the sake of which" — for instance wealth or pleasure or some other such thing that happens to be the goal — will come about more from what is prior. For the one who deliberates deliberates, if he has examined starting from the end, either as to what tends toward it, so as to bring it back to himself, or as to whether he himself is capable of reaching the end.
35| The end is by nature always something good, and it is about this that people deliberate in particular cases — for instance, a doctor would deliberate whether to give a certain drug, and a general where to make camp — for these, the good is the end that is simply best. But contrary to nature, and through perversion, it is not the good but the apparent good that is the end. The cause is this: of the things that are, some cannot be used for anything other than what they are naturally for — sight, for instance; for it is not possible to see what there is no sight of, nor to hear what there is no hearing of; but from knowledge one can produce a result even in a case where the knowledge is not properly of it. For the same knowledge does not relate to health and disease in the same way, but to the one according to nature, to the other contrary to nature. Likewise, wish too is by nature directed at the good, but contrary to nature it is also directed at the bad, and by nature one wishes for the good, but contrary to nature, and through perversion, also for the bad. And yet the corruption and perversion of each thing is not toward just anything at random, but toward its contraries and the things in between. For it is not possible to step outside these, since even deception does not occur toward just any random things, but, for things that have contraries, toward the contraries — and among these contraries, toward those that are contrary according to the relevant knowledge.
36| It follows, then, that both deception and choice must move from the mean to the contraries (and contrary to the mean are both the excess and the deficiency). The cause is the pleasant and the painful; for things stand in such a way that to the soul the pleasant appears good and the more pleasant better, and the painful appears bad and the more painful worse.
37| [1227b] So from these considerations too it is clear that virtue and vice have to do with pleasures and pains. For they are about what is chosen by deliberate choice, and choice is about the good and the bad, and about what appears so, and pleasure and pain are by nature things of that kind. It is necessary, then, since ethical virtue is itself a kind of mean and is wholly concerned with pleasures and pains, while vice lies in excess and deficiency and is about the same things as virtue, that virtue be the state of character, disposed toward choice, that is a mean relative to us in things pleasant and painful, in respect of whatever a person's character is said to be of a certain sort by being pleased or pained — for the lover of sweet things or the lover of bitter things is not said to have a character of a certain sort. With these points marked out, let us say whether virtue makes choice free of error, and the end correct, so that a person chooses what he ought to choose for the sake of, or, as some think, whether it makes reason correct. This latter is continence, for continence does not corrupt reason. But virtue and continence are different things. We must speak of them later, since for those who think that virtue supplies correct reason, this is the cause they point to. For that is what continence does, and continence is one of the praiseworthy things.
38| We speak having first raised the difficulty. For it is possible for the target to be correct but for one to go wrong in the things that lead to the target; and it is possible for the target to have been missed, but for the things that accomplish it to be correctly done, and possible for neither to be the case. Does virtue, then, make the target correct, or the things that lead to the target? Let us posit that it is the target, because there is no syllogism or reasoning about this. Rather, let this be laid down as a kind of starting point. For neither does the doctor consider whether one ought to be healthy or not, but whether one ought to walk or not, nor does the trainer consider whether one ought to be in good condition or not, but whether one ought to wrestle or not. Likewise no other craft deliberates about the end: for just as hypotheses are starting points for the theoretical sciences, so too for the productive sciences the end is a starting point and a hypothesis. Since this person must be made healthy, this other thing must necessarily be present if that is to come about, just as there, if the triangle has two right angles, this other thing must necessarily be the case. The starting point of thinking, then, is the end, while the completion of the thinking is the starting point of action. If, then, either reason or virtue is the cause of every correctness, and if it is not reason, then it would be through virtue that the end is correct, but not the things that lead to the end.
39| The end is that for the sake of which. For every choice is of something and for the sake of something. That, then, for the sake of which is the mean, and virtue is the cause of this by choosing that for the sake of which. Choice, however, is not of this itself, but of the things that are for the sake of it. Hitting upon these things — the things one must do for the sake of the end — belongs to another capacity.
40| [1228a] But that the end of choice be correct is a matter for which virtue is the cause. And this is why we judge what sort of person someone is from his choice: for this is a matter of for the sake of what he acts, not of what he does. Vice likewise makes choice for the sake of the opposite things. If, then, someone who has it in his own power to do fine things and refrain from shameful ones does the opposite, it is clear that this person is not virtuous. So it is necessary both that vice be voluntary and that virtue be voluntary: for there is no necessity to do base things. This is why vice is blameworthy and virtue praiseworthy: for involuntary shameful and bad things are not blamed, nor are good things praised, if involuntary, but only voluntary ones. Further, we praise and blame everyone by looking to their choice rather than to their works — even though the actuality is more choiceworthy than the virtue, since people also do base things under compulsion, but no one chooses under compulsion. Further, because it is not easy to see what a person's choice is like, we are for this reason forced to judge what sort of person someone is from his works. The actuality, then, is more choiceworthy, but the choice is more praiseworthy. These conclusions follow both from what has been laid down and, further, agree with the observed facts.