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.
adAndovs. mpds S€ Tods modeplovs Kai gddmvyét kal addois
emeyeipovar kal avéovor TO Ovpocides Kai payor. Cf. ch. 4 of the
same treatise quoted above in note to ii. 1. 1, a. 17. mpamv|
Bywater, following Kb, for the mpérepov of all other authorities. I
confess that I do not like zpéy». It does not appear in the Jud. Arist.
In a course of oral lectures its occurrence N2
 1104 b.18. b, 21. b. 24, b. 27. b. 29. 180 BOOK II: CHAP. 8:
§§ 5-7. would not surprise us, as its ordinary meaning (especially in
the phrase és xai mp@nv) seems to be ‘ the day before yesterday.’
gaédo.] The reading of Kb Lb M>, Camb., NC, is obviously right (see
Rassow, /orsch. p. 55). Bekker reads adda. bd Tod Adyou] ‘ by,’ or ‘in
the definition,’ or ‘formula.’ dmabetas «.t.A.] See the notes of Zell
and Michelet. The Cynics seem to be specially referred to here:
Socrates may also be intended, for he is elsewhere (£. ZV. vi. 13)
accused of making the aperai, poviges, OY Adyor: and Speusippus
held croyafeoOur rods dyabovs doyhynaias (see Ritter and Preller,
Hest. Phil.: Speusippus) : Democritus also is stated to have held a
similar view (see Ritter and Preller: Democritus). § 6. Gmékertat...
mpaxtixn|] The Paraph. has—inéxecrar dpa 7 dpern eivar ) e&ts 7)
ovTws Exoura Tept HOovas Kai AUmas Kabos mpoTdiwprodpeba—t.
¢, Gre Sei, ws Set, «.7.., thus taking rovat’zn closely with mept
noovas kai Avmas. Grant has—‘we may begin by assuming then ...
that this kind of excellence (¢.e. moral) is concerned with pleasures
and pains.’ So Williams and Peters. I think that the Par. is right. § 7.]
Consideration (5). There being three generally recognised objects of
aipeous—viz. 1d xaddv, To cupdepoy and 76 7Sv, the last is involved
in the first two. The xaddv is 76 ed Cyv—the Noble Life, the
conception of which serves as a regulative principle. The cupépor is
(in the strict sense of the term) that which is recognised as a means
to the attainment of some end, whether that end be the realisation
of the Noble Life, or some subordinate end. The nov is something
desired irrespectively of its goodness or utility. In seeking the xadév
and the ovpdépov a man is conscious of a system of things; whereas
in following the 78v, as such, he has to do with merely isolated
particulars. The pursuit of the kcaddv and of the cvpdépor is,
however, pleasant, because it is a pursuit; to pursue successfully and
to feel pleasure being practically identical. yévouto 8 dy tpiv Kal éx
tovTwv pavepdv Stu wept tv atrav] Here Bywater restores érc from
Kb, in place of the ém of all other authorities. I think that er is right,
and that cat é« rovrav ...
 BOOK II: CHAP. 3: §§ 7-10. 181 ett = ck Tavde. Pavepoy
Gti mepi Tov aitov WOUld=davepoy Ore H 7OcKy 1104b. 29. apetn
€ote Tept ndovey kai AvTav: but throughout this chapter zepd is
used with the accusative of the terms denoting the circumstances or
environment of 74. dpern. I think that here mepi ray adtév can
mean only ‘about the same things,’ i.e. about apery and kaxia
mentioned in the two immediately preceding lines. I should like,
however, to read mepi avrav for rept trav avrav. The recurring -rey
or -ev terminations in the immediate context—airay tpiav yap dvrwy
rav—would easily lend themselves to clerical error. : Tots bwd Thy
atpeow] ‘The sudjects of choice’—z.e. the three b. 35. subdivisions
mentioned under the head of aipeors. § 8.] Consideration (6). The
love of pleasure is innate, in- 1105 a. 1. grained in our nature, and
hard to rub out. ‘ yadendv azorpivracba .. . €ykexpoopévov|] the
metaphor,’ says Grant (following Gifanius and Zell), ‘though not its
precise application, seems taken from Plato, Rep. iv. p. 429 D, where
the effects of right education are compared to a dye with which the
mind is imbued, so as to resist the detersive effects of pleasure and
pain.’ Consideration (7). Pleasure and pain are the tests which we
apply to actions also (sc. as well as to feelings). Michelet appositely
quotes Diog. Laert. x. § 129, speaking of Epicurus— ravTny (Sori)
yap dyaboy mpOrov kal ovyyeviKoy eyvapev Kal amo TavTys
katapxdpeba méons aipéoews Kal dbuyns Kal emt Tatty
kKaTavT@pev, Os kavove T@ TraOer av ayaOov Kpivortes. § 10.]
Consideration (8). It is very difficult to contend against a. 7. pleasure
and pain; the contest therefore is worthy of the great Art of Life.
“Hpdkdettos| See the notes of Zell, Coraes, Michelet and Grant: a. 8.
cf. also Bywater’s Heraclit? Eph. Religuiae, cv. p. 41. Heraclitus spoke
only of the difficulty of contending with @upés, as is recognised in
Pol. ©. 9, 1315 a. 30, and in “7h. Eud. ii. 7. 1223 b. 23. His words,
according to Bywater, were Oup@ pdxerOa xahendv" 6 te yap av
xpnitn yiverOa Wuyxns wvéerat. dperq] 7x7 read by Mb, rc. Lb, NC,
Paris 1853, B® and some a. 11. other inferior MSS.
 co 182 BOOK IT: “CHAP, As CHAP TERA: ARGUMENT. But
here a difficulty may be raised—A man becomes just by performing
just acts: but surely, if he performs just acts, he ts already gust: of a
man writes correctly, he surely can write. To this we may answer,
that the inference ts not certain in the case of the man who writes
correctly, any more than tn the case of the man who performs just
acts. A man may write something correctly by chance, or at the
suggestion of another person. We do not know that he can write,
72// we know that he has written something as only a person who
can write could—i.e. from his own knowledge of the art of writing.
So much for the analogy between an art and a virtue, appealed to
by the promoters of the difficulty before us. The analogy, even so far
as it holds, is evidently not in favour of their suggestion, but against
it. It is, however, where the analogy breaks down entirely, that we
see the best opening for a decisive refutation— and it breaks down
here: a work of art has its artistic merit in itself: it ts enough in the
ha of art if a work, with certain good qualities tn tt, has been “pi Hag
daa we say ‘ What a beautiful work!” But a th be realm of conduct
we Wwe “tn tt, per, Sa perm med. Bape we pronounce, i we look Za
the agent ae and ae ‘ How did he perform it?? (1) Did he know that
he was performing it ? (2) Did he choose deliberately to perform it,
and that, because he thought wt right, not because he thought it
would lead to some ulterior pleasure or pr oft it? and (3) Did he per
for m tt as the result of a fixed and unchangeable habit in him: ?
Unless these conditions in the agent be fulfilled, we do got speak of
the moral value of actions: but works of art have their artistic merit
independently of any such conditions in the artist, except of course
that of his having knowledge. With the acguirement of the virtues
knowledge, such as is required in the artist, has little or nothing to
do ; but the other conditions mentioned are altimportant, realised as
they are in consequence of the frequent performance of good
actions. Actions, then, are said to be just or temperate, when they
are such as the just ; or temperate man would perform ; but it does
not necessarily follow that of a man performs these actions he is just
or temperate. More is needed: to be just or temperate he must
perform them as just or temperate men perform them. We have
good reason for saying. then, that zt is by performing just or
temperate acts that a man becomes just or temperate. Nay, how
could wt be otherwise? Who, if he omits to perform such acts, has
the least chance of ever becoming good? And yet the majority of
men omit to perform them, and take refuge in talk, and think that
they have a philosophy of life which will make them good. They are
like patients who listen attentively to their physician, but do not
follow his prescriptions. Foolish patients! foolish moralists !
 BOOK II; CHAP. 4: §§ 1-3. 183 §§ 1-3.] This dropia we may
resolve by pointing out (which 1105 a.17. Aristotle does not do
explicitly). that ra dikaa before the formation of the Habit are, so far
as the agent is concerned, only dpevipes dikaa. They are only
apparently /zs just acts; really, gua just, they are expressions of the
wise intention of the law-giver, or ruler, who enjoins and enforces
them. The moral agent himself has to begin by acting under the
compulsion of the law, until by repetition a habit is formed, and he
performs the acts in question proprio motu, the habit bringing with it
an insight, more or less clear, into the significance of the acts, and a
belief that they are good. ‘Then they are really the agent’s own just
acts—z.e. they are ‘just’ in the strict, and not in an equivocal sense.
‘Thus the analogy between dpern and réxyyn, appealed to by the
promoters of the dropia (which, it may be observed, is an 7gnava
rato in morals—or excuse for inactivity—see § 6 of this chapter—
similar to that in science refuted in the AZeno 80 E—ovx apa éore
(yrew avOpamm ove 6 oidev ovre 6 pn oidev” obtE yap av 6 ye oide
Cyrot’ ode yap, kai ovdey dei TO ye TowiT@ (yTHTEws. ovTE O pi}
oidev’ ovde yap oidev 6,7e (nrnoer) does not help them. A just
act.may be just in an equivocal sense, as_a word correctly written
(ypapparexdy TL) may be ‘correctly written’ merely in an equivocal
sense, and is no sure sign that a man cam write. The analogy only
makes it clearer that the difficulty about ‘ becoming just by doing
just acts’ is to be met by pointing out that the acts are not really
‘just’ at first, but ‘must and can’ be made just by the strenuous
practice of the > agent himself. It is this ‘must and can’ which of emt
rov Adyov karapevyovres (§ 6)—the promoters of this dopia—ignore.
But, after all, there is no real analogy (for the purpose of the present
discussion) between the dperai and the réyvav—éere ovd dpody
€otw emi te TaY TexVaY Kal TOY apeTav (§ 2as 26)> -Phe goodness
of a work of art is something quite different from that of a moral
action. The goodness of the work of art.is.a quality which we see at
once in the work weself— Hermes is dug up at Olympia, and we find
him beautiful as soon as we see him. But the goodness of a moral
action is not a quality in the action itself, which we can appreciate
apart from the goodness of the agent. The reason of this is that the
real object of the moral judgment is not the isolated action, but ‘he
sys/em of conduct to which tt belongs ; and this we can get at only
through a knowledge of the way zw which the agent performed the
given action. If we find that an
 1105 a.17. a. 28. a. 31. 184 BOOK II: CHAP. 4: §§ 2, 3.
action, belonging prima facie to a noble system of conduct, has, as a
matter of fact, been performed by the agent deliberately in the
interest of that system, and performed also easily and with pleasure,
as being an action with which he identifies his own good, then we
venture to speak of ‘the goodness of the action.” We know that it is
a good action which we can count on the agent to repeat. It is only
actions which will be repeated that are morally significant. An action,
however useful and even well-intentioned, which is not likely to be
repeated, because the agent finds it difficult and unpleasant, is not
an important factor in that correspondence with the environment
which is the ultimate object of the moral judgment. Of course it is
true that there are actions which from their very nature are
exceptional, because intended to meet exceptional circumstances—
actions involving heroic selfsacrifice, which take a position analogous
to that of great works of art, and demand unhesitating and
immediate applause, although performed by a man of whose
disposition we otherwise know nothing; but in the vast majority of
cases it is unsafe to estimate an action thus from the outside,
judging of its moral value from its splendour or immediate utility;
before we come to a decision, we ought to know the state of the
agent—whether he is aware that he aes the act, whether he chooses
it because it is right, and that, of fixed habit, having often performed
it before, and therefore being likely to perform it often again. § 3.
dpxet ody Taitd mws exovta yevéoOar| I prefer aira given by Lb and
NC. mpatov pev edv eidas K.T.A.] Z.e. (1) it must not bé done 6?
ayraav, otherwise it would be involuntary, z.e. not his act at all, but a
mere accident without moral significance (see £. J. iii. 1. 3) ; (2) it
must not be the result of unregulated 6upds or embupia, but of
BovAcurixi) bpekis, 2.€. mpoutpeots (see L. JV. iii. 3. 19), and the
BovAevows must be directed to the good end, 16 kadév, rd ed (yy,
for it is possible to employ apparently good actions as means to an
unworthy end. This seems to be the sense of zpoaipotpevos 8¢° atta
— viz. ‘choosing means for the sake of the good end which one
appears to choose them for’: ‘choosing them as deing what they are
—good: t.e. good means to a good end’: eg. a_man must choose to
perform a charitable act for the sake of the public good which such
acts promote, not for the sake of personal popularity.
 BOOK II: CHAP. 4: § 3. 185 In the latter case his ‘charitable
act’ would -be..such..only in appearance. Tpoapovpevos 80 adrdé
cannot signify ‘choosing them, 7.e. the particular acts, for their own
sakes, as ends-in-themselves,’ for mpoaipeots is the choice of means
(see LZ. WV. iii. 2. 9). Good choice treats particular acts as means to
the realisation of eddapovia, the chief end. (3) Not only must an act,
to_be morally good, be chosen_in_the.way.described.above, but the
choice of it must be habitual and practically inevitable. The
zpoaépeous of means, to be good, must be guided by the BovdAnas
(£. J. iii. 2. 9) of an End, or Life, to which the whole nature of the
moral agent has been perfectly adapted. TS pev etdevar oddev 7
pixpov k.7.A.] ‘This,’ Grant remarks, ‘is 1105 a. 31. b, 2. a reaction
against the Socratico-Platonic doctrine that virtue con-__ sists in
knowledge.’ Aristotle uses e«/devac in two senses in the present
context, in one of which he affirms, and in the other seems to deny,
its necessity in morals. A_man must snow that he 7s doing an act, if
the act _is_to have any moral significance. atall. This is an
indispensable condition (mparov pév éay cidds), as we have seen
above. But, this condition fulfilled, a man may act well without a
theory of action (rd pev cidéva), if his moral habits are good;
whereas correct theory without good habits would avail nothing. The
statement, however, TO pep eidévat ovdey 77 7) plkKpov ix vet,
even as thus explained, is 1 too strong from Aristotle’s own point of
view. Without a sheory, conduct could not long maintain itself as a
system. Aristotle concedes this in his doctrine of the mpakzexos
vovs, and in his view that the moral agent ought to become
vopoOerixds (Z. WV. x. g. 14). After all, if allowance be made for
difference of philosophical language, Plato and Aristotle hold
essentially the same view about the place of knowledge in morality.
It may be pointed out in passing that the distinction drawn in § 3
between a_work of art which has.its..good in itself, and an_action
which must.be.interpreted. in the-light-of the agent’s character, is
the distinction of AZez. ©. 8, between evépyetae which have an
épyov map avtds, and those which have not—1050 a. 30 doy pev
ody erepov Ti €oTe Tapa THY xpHow TO yyvopevoy, TOT@Y peV 7)
EvEpyELa EV TO TOLOUMEV@ EOTiV, Vioy H TE ikoddunots Ev TO
oikodopouvper@ K.T.A. .. . CTW d€ py €oTw addo Tt epyov mapa
Tiy evépyetav, év aitois Umapyer H evepyera® oioy 7) dpacis ev TO
Spavti, Kai 7} Cewpia ev 7G OewpodvTs. The excellence of Homer is
embodied in his épyov, and remains there for all time ;
 1105 b. 2. b. 3. 186 BOOK IL: CHAP. 3. but a good action is
only a glimpse which we get of a good life. On the one hand, it is
the Iliad, and not its author that is important ; on the other hand, it
is the orderly beautiful life, of which the action is a symptom, that is
precious. Ta 8 GN ... Grep ék Tod wodAdKis mpdtTew ...
mepryiverat| The Ada are 76 mpoapeioba dv’ aitd and the és, both
of which come from acting, not from philosophising. § 4.] Good
actions are only then morally good, ze. really what they appear to
be, when they are done by a good man: and a good man is a man
who performs good actions easily and in the interest of a noble
system of conduct. §§ 5, 6.] show that the remark mpos dé 16 ras
dperas [sc. exe | 7d pev cidevae ovdev 7 puxpdv lover (§ 3) is
directed, not so much against Plato, as against Sophists like
Isocrates, who professed (or were accused, by those who did not
themselves take fees, of professing) to teach conduct by a course of
lectures—cf. /. WV. x. g. 20. CLAP TER. ARGUMENT. We have
assumed the concrete existence of Virtue, and tried to show how it
és practically acquired: let us now try to find its formal definition ;
and first let us ask—What is tts Genus ? The qualities which manifest
themselves in the Soul are thiee—Feelings, Capacities, Habits ; and
Virtue will be one of the three. (1) Feelings: e. g. desire, anger, fear,
confidence, envy, joy, love, hate, longing, emulation, pity—these,
and all other feelings, being accompanied by pleasure or pain. (2)
Capacities: being capable of experiencing these feelings—e. g. being
capable of feeling anger or pity. (3) Habits: the relations, good or
bad, in which we stand to our various feelings, e.g. if we are
disposed too much or too little to anger, it ts a bad habit ; if
moderately, a good habit. The Virtues and Vices then are not
feelings, because we are not said to be good or bad for our mere
feelings, or praised or blamed for them, whereas we are praised for
our Virtues, and blamed for our Vices. Again, we experience a
Jeeling, e.g. anger or fear, without choosing to experience tt, but the
virtues involve Choice. Moreover we are said to be ‘moved’ by our
feelings, but ‘ disposed,’ not ‘moved, by our Virtues and Vices.
 BOOK II: CHAP. 5: §§ 1, 2. 187 Nor are the Virtues and
Vices capacities, for we are not said to be good or bad, and we are
not praised or blamed, because we are capable of experiencing
certain feelings. Further, we are endowed by nature with these
capactties ; but it ts not nature which makes us good or bad, as was
pointed out before. Lf then the Virtues are neither feelings nor
capacitwes, tt remains that they are habits. 5 § 1. tl eo dpetn| What
is its yévos. It seems to be a 1105b.19. reversal of the natural order
to enquire first (as Aristotle has done in the previous chapters of this
Book)—How Virtue is acquired ; and then (wera d€ ratra) to ask—
What Virtue is. This is surely the order which Socrates finds fault
with Meno for wishing to adopt (JZeno 86 C, D). Perhaps we may
answer for Aristotle that it is only the man who has acquired dpern
for himself who can understand its ti eott, ‘The present enquiry
therefore follows a natural course, when starting from dperj, as
something concretely known, it first tries to show how it is practically
acquired, and then tries to find its formal definition. Te €v TH WuXH
yevopeva tpia éoti x.7.A.] As Michelet and other b. 20. commentators
point out, the phenomena in the Soul are here said to be three,
because dpern, or goodness, he quality (modrns) par excellence (cf.
EE. Nw i. 9. 8 abrn 8€ la é. 9 Twoderexy | TAEioTHY emripédecav
Toueitat TOU TMOLOUS Tivas Kal GyaBods Tovs woNiTas moujTa:
and Mes. A. 14. 1020 b. 23 padsora de To ayadby Kal TO Kakov
onpaivet TO ToLOY emt TeV epWvxov, kal TovT@y padiota emi Tois
€xovor mpoutpeocw), Suggests the accepted threefold division (so
far as the Wuyy is concerned) of motrys into és, Sévayis, and
mdbos. See Cat. 8. 8 b. 2 5 sqq., and Grant’s note. Zell quotes
Plutarch, De Virt. Mor. 4 tpia yap 67 Tavta act rept tiv Wuyiy
vmapxew, Svvaytv, waOos, €Ew* 7 pev ovv Svvapus apxn Kal UAn
Tov maOovs, oioy dpyiAdrns, aicxvytTnAla, Gappadedrns* Td de
mabos kivnais tis dn THs Suvdpews, olov dpyn, aidws, Oapoos, 7 8
cus iaxvds kal katacKevh THs mept TO GAoyov Suvdpews e€&
EOovs eyyryvopevn, kakia pev ay davdws, caper? Se av Kad@s tnd
Tod Adyov madaywynOA Td maOos. §§ 2-6.] A mddos is an isolated
feeling or affection, and a Stvaus b. 21. is the capacity for
experiencing such a feeling. A capacity of this kind, with the
resulting feeling, is mafwral, t.e. independent of education, and, in
itself, is ether pradsed as good, nor blamed as bad. Moreover, a
feeling is a mofvon (xara ra man KiveicOar Neydueba) which arises
out of a capacity czdependenily of choice (émpoapéras).
 1105 b. 21. 188 BOOK IIT: CHAP. 5: § 2. These
characteristics of md6os and Sivays exclude the possibility of dpern
being a maOos or Sivas: for dpern is a dzsposztion (kata ras dperas
SiaxeioGai mas deydpeba) not a motion; it zmplies choice ; and it zs
praised as good; besides, it is acguired by education. But these are
the characteristics of é&s. Accordingly detmerar e€ers atras €uval, In
other words, the ‘ Qualities’ of the wvyn are either affections (wa6n)
or capacities (Svvdes and es). Virtue is not an isolated affection. It is
therefore a capacity. But it is not a natural capacity. Therefore, it is
an acquired capacity, ze. a e&s: and a eés for which we are praised.
§ 2. dy] It is to be observed that the doctrine of this section is
considerably simpler than that of the corresponding passage in Cat.
8. In this latter passage ma6yrixai mourytes and wa6n are
distinguished (9 a. 28). WaOnrixai mowrntes are permanent
qualities, such as a pale complexion, or madness, whether
congenital or caused by disease; whereas way are transient qualities
(if the term qualities be admissible), such as paleness suddenly
produced by fear, or excitement by pain—g b. 19 éca pév odv Tay
ToLovT@Y oUETTepareav (weavia, oxpdérns: and the same remarks
are afterwards applied to psychical conditions, such as pavix)
éxoraois) azd twev mabey Svokwytev Kal Tapapovipwv thy dpxiy
etAnde, TaOntiKai ToLdTHTES A€yovTa’ mowol yap Kata Tairas
Aeydpeba . . . daa 8 amd padios Stadvopevav Kat Taxd
dmoxabiotapevoy yiverar, TaOn dEyerat, Torres SE ” > ‘ 7 , ss , y+ ‘
€ > ~ ‘ A ou. ou yop A€yovrat TOLOL TLVES KATA TQAUTAS” OUTE
yap oO epvOprav dea TO aicxuvOjvar épvOpias Néyera’ ore 6 dypiav
dia 1d HoBnOqvar @yxpias’ GAAG paddov memovOévac Tu’ Gate
mabn pev Ta ToLadTa eyeTaL, ToLOTHTES & ov. Here the writer says
that wd) are not mowdrnres: but above (9 a. 28) he has said—
rpérov 8¢ yévos mourntos maOntiKal rroudtntes Kat wd0y. The
difference between a mantic mowrns and a dvvayes according to
Ca¢. 8 is that, while the former is the permanent manifestation or
induration, as it were, of a md6us, the latter is a natural capacity of
doing or resisting something: see Caz. 9 a. 18 Svvapw dvowxyy i)
advvayiay Tod Toujoai Te padios 7) pydev TWaoxeELv. The dvvayes
of the Categories thus differs from that of the L7hics, which is ka®
jv taOytiKol rotten (2c. trav mabav) heyspeba. Indeed the ddvayis of
the L¢Azcs stands very close to the ma@nrixy mourns of the
Categories. The manner in which the notion of maOnrixy moidtns,
OF permanent manifestation of a ma6os, naturally passes into
 BOOK Il CHAP, 5: § 2 189 that of dvvayis ka’ qv maOnrtxot
(rod maOovs) NeydueOa is easily seen in 1105 b. 21. the case of
psychical ma@nrixut mowrnres, where the manifestations generally
admit of degrees; thus the ma6yrixy moiwrns of paki éxotagts, OF
insanity, is not always violently manifested ; and the violent
outbursts, when they occur, appear as md6n, or kwioeis, arising out
of the normal éckcraovs, which thus comes to be regarded as a
capacity, rather than as a manifestation. If we compare the parallel
passage in the Ludem. Ethics (ii. 2) with Cat. 8 we can see how
close raéntixy mourns and Svvaues stand to each other, where ra
kara Thy Wuxnv at least are concerned. In the Cavegories the
dpyiros is said to have a maOnrixy mourns (Cat. 8. 10 a. 2 mow yap
Kara ravras [SC. Tas maOnriKas moudtntas | déyovrar, dpythou
x.7.A.); in the Eth. Eud., to have a Stvaus (Eth. Lud. ii. 2.1220 b. 12
déyw 8é ma0n pev Ta ToLavTa, Ovpov PdBov k.7.d. . . . Kal KaTa
peyv TaiTa OVK EoTL mooTns, GdAa maoyxer’ Kata O€ Tas
Suvdpets, outs’ héeyw dé Tas Suvdpers kal’ as A€yorrar Kata AON ot
evepyodvTes* viov dpyidos K.T.A. ). In the foregoing remarks I have
purposely omitted, as irrelevant, reference to such maOnrixal
moidrntres as sweetness, so called because they are qualities which
produce rabn in us—Cat. 8.9 b. 5 ta 8€ kata Tas aigOnoets Exdotny
TOV cipnuevav TrovoTHTwy TaOous elvat ToLnTLKHY maOnrikal
mrovorntes NéyovTat. hummOAvar] Rassow (Forsch. p. 88) seems to
make out a good b. 25. case for his conjecture o8nOqvau. After
quoting the § from déyo dé ma) down to edeyom, he says: ‘Affecte
nenne ich Begierde, Zorn, Furcht u.s.w., iiberhaupt alles, womit das
Gefiihl von Lust und Unlust verbunden ist. Wer so definirt, kann
unmoglich die dim selbst als Affect bezeichnen. Dennoch wird
unmittelbar darauf AuvmnOjva als Beispiel eines solchen angefiihrt.
Ich vermuthe poBnOnva, denn PoBeioGa wird neben dpyi¢eoOa
wiederholt in diesem Abschnitte als Beispiel gebraucht. Z. 31 kara
pév ra mdOn oir’ erawovpeba ore eyspueba, od yap emaweirar 6
poBovpevos od€ 5 bpyttspevos. Pp. T106 a. 2 ere dpyrCoueba pev
kal PoBovpeba ampoapéras. Die grosse Ethik, die diesen Abschnitt
fast wortlich wiedergiebt, hat in ihrem Text bereits Aumn@qvari.
7.1186 a. 15: dagegen hat Stobaeus Eel. Eth. p. 85 Meineke
oBeicOa: Svvdpers kab? ds malnttkol TOUT@Y civat Neyopeba, oiov
kad’ ds dpyiCopeba hoSovpeba Cyodper kt.’ efers Se Kal” Gs mpds
TA dOy Exouer eb H KaKds] Cf. LL. ii. 2. 1220 b. 18 e€eus 8€ eiow,
doa airiai clot Tod Tavita (2.e. ra maby) i} Kara Adyov indpxew i)
evavtios. The és of virtue is the result of the
 1105 b. 25. 1106 a. 3. a. 6. 190 BOOK Il: CHAP. 5: §§ 2-4.
eldomotnats Kai poppwots Tov waOnudtor (Eustratius) effected by
moral training. § 3. 08 Aeyopeba Kata Ta WéOy oToudator H daddor]
Because, as is explained in Cad. 8, the ma) are not properly
movornres : we are not rovol wes in consequence of them. It is thus
evident that it is only on account of their close connexion with
ma@nrtxai rovorntes, of which they seem to be at once the causes
and the results, that naén are considered under the head of zoudrns
at all, In themselves they are xunoes (see § 4 of this chapter), or
évépyecae—not movdrytes (see 2. /V. x. 3. 1). ‘Uhis.1s recognised
ini, tt ha hea, 57 lal cA oS) co lol ‘ ‘ a a , Sane A So TE \ Ul tav & év
tH Wouxn Ta pev eEets 7 Suvdpers ciot, Ta O evepyerat Kal
KLVNOELS. § 4. mpoapécers] As Grant points out, there has been no
proof of this yet. Aristotle, however, has probably in his mind the
doctrine of J/er¢. ©. 2 and 5, according to which épegéts or
mpoaipects determines (as 76 képiov) which of the two contraries
open to a dvvapis pera Adyov shall be manifested. He therefore
assumes here as a settled point, that the dperai, having been
acquired in circumstances in which the development of the contrary
caxias was possible, are pera mpoapéoceas. It is true that the
duvapers pera Adyou of Aes. O. 2 and 5 are identified with the
properly z7fel/ectual potentialities, or abilities, z.e. with the réyvar
and émorjpa: but the doctrine of £7. Nic. iii. 5—that, if the
performance of good acts is 颒 jpiv, then the performance of bad
acts is equally 颒 piv—enables us, or rather obliges us, to extend
the notion of 4 pera Adyou Svvauis 7 tev evavTiov otca so as to
include moral potentiality also—z.e. the power of acting well or ill in
given circumstances, which man, in virtue of his Adyos, possesses.
Indeed, the notion may be even farther generalised, so as to include
all Life (phys'cal as well as moral), 7. é. all cases in which an
organism may, or may not, succeed in doing what is for its
advantage in given circumstances: and this generalisation of the
notion would be in strict conformity with the meaning of
Aéyos=orderly arrangement of parts, or organisation. All organisms,
in that they can so behave as to survive or perish, possess duvdpers
ray evarvrioy: whereas in the inorganic world there is no ‘adaptation
to an environment, or failure in adaptation’: there are only ddoyou
Suvdpers, Operating in one direction. StaxetoOai mws| Except,
apparently, for the alliteration, this might have been ¢xew mos. The
dperai are d:abécers which have } | 7 |
 BOOK TT CHAP,” ©: 191 become fixed, ze. e€eus—see Cat.
8.9 a. 8 duapépe ekis diabécews 1106 a. 6. ~ ae TO THY pev
eEvkivnTov elvar THY Se ToAvxXpoMwTépay Kai SvoKwwnToréepar.
clot b€ ai pev ees Kal diabecers, ai dé diabecers ovk €& avaykns
ckes’ of \ ‘ de ” ‘ s , , 2 5 ae A ¢ x , > pev yap e&eis Exovtes kal
SidkewrTai yé mws Kat aitds’ of Sé Siakeiuevor od mavTws Kal ew
€xovow. Examples of a dudbeows are Wuypdrns, vdcos. CHAPTER
VI. ARGUMENT. So much for the genus of Virtue—it is a Habit. But
what ts tts differentia ? What sort of Hlabit zs tt ? Let us begin with
the statement, that a virtue or excellence gives perfection both to
the condition and to the function of that of which wt ts the virtue or
excellence. Thus the excellence of the eye makes the eye itself and
its sight good. {So man’s excellence or virtue will be a habit which
makes him good, and causes him to perform his peculiar function
well. \ The differentia then which we are looking for ts contained in
the words—‘ which makes him good and causes him to perform his
peculiar function well” We have already said, in passing, that
Goodness is preserved by the Mean, and that ‘performing well’
consists in avoiding extremes and choosing the Mean. Accordingly,
uf we now explain Jully what ‘ choosing the Mean’ is, we shall
explain the true differentia of Virtue. Wherever a measurable whole
can be divided into two parts, we can subtract apart which zs ‘
greater than, or a part which ts ‘ less than, or apart which ts ‘equal
to, the part which we leave. Here ‘equal to’ ts the arithmetical mean
» between any two unequal parts into which the whole may be
divided ; it ts the absolute-mean; or ‘half of the thing, which ts the
same for all men, From this absolute mean, however, we must
distinguish the relative mean, or ‘mean for me, which is not the half
of the thing and the same for all men, but that amount which ts
neither too much nor too little for me—that amount which exactly
suits me in my particular circumstances : e.g. let two pounds of
meat a day be too little, and ten too much for me during my
training: it does not follow that the arithmetical mean between two
and ten—the half of thetr sum, i.e. six pounds, will suit me.
Whatever quantity between the extremes two and ten suits me zs
the mean for me, and will be prescribed by my trainer. And the rule
which the trainer here observes is that which all artists follow. They
all look to this, not to the arithmetical meant i.e. they all aim at what
is simply enough in the circumstances, avoiding excess and defect.
Thus we say of a master-piece of art—‘ you could not take from it,
or add to zt, without spoiling it. And if Art achieves her triumphs by
observing this golden rule, much more carefully will Virtue observe
it, tnasmuch as her
 ¥ / 1106 a. 15. a. 25. a. 26. 92, BOOK II: CHAP. 6: §§ 1-4.
triumphs are greater: for the Virtuous Character is like one of the
organisms which Nature brings forth—zt ts more fitly contrived and
more beautiful than any worhof art. When we say that Virtue
observes the mean, we refer only to Moral Virtue, for zt is acquired
in a region—that of feelings and actions— where excess and defect
are possible. Thus, take the feeling of anger: if we are too angry, or
not angry enough, we err and are blamed ; but tf we are angry at
the proper time, and at the proper things, and with the proper
persons, and with the proper effect, and in the proper way, we hit
off ‘the happy mean,’ and do what we are praised for, and what is
right. But where ‘we are pratsed, and ‘do what ts right, Virtue zs
concerned. It ts Virtue therefore which makes us “hit off the mean’:
indeed we may perhaps even say that ‘ Virtue ts itself a kind of
mean. Again, there are many wrong ways (evil ts something
indefinite as the Pythagoreans opined, good something definite), but
only one right way. Hence it ts easy to miss the mark, difficult to hit
1t—another reason why we assign the mean—for it ts difficult—to
Virtue, and the extremes to Vece—for they are easy. Moral Virtue
may then be dened, as ‘A Habit involving Choice, lying zn a Relative
Mean fixed by Reason, that ts, as the Prudent Man would fiwitte, But
it ts only as formally defined, that Virtue ‘isg mean, or ‘lies ina
mean,” between two-vices, choosing the middle course between
their extremes. This ‘middle course, we must remember, ts likewise
the Best Course: and as Choosing what ts Best virtue ts ‘ supreme
excellence. Lt ts not to every action, however, and every feeling that
the formula of the mean applies. Some feelings, e.g. envy, some
actions, e. g. theft, are seen, as soon as named, to imply evil. It is
never possible to have such feelings, or perform such actions, ‘in the
right way.” To suppose tt possible would indeed be as absurd as to
suppose that acting unjustly or acting intemperately could have zts
excess, defect and mean, or that the exact mean point of justice or
temperance could be resolved tnto excess and defect. In short there
ts no mean in excess and defect, and no excess and defect in the
mean. § 1. rota tis] Having in the last chapter shown 6 tu éorl ra
yéver 7 Gpern, viz. that it is a e&s, Aristotle now proceeds to declare
its differentia—rofa rts. §§ 2, 3.] Taken, as Grant points out, from
Plato, Rep. 353 B. § 4. moia tis éotiw 1 duos adris| Its differentia is
that it is ev pegornrt. ouvexet kat Siatpero| Continuous and discrete
quantity—z\ e. magnitude (y¢ye4os) and number (AqGos), according
to Grant, who quotes Cat. 6. 4b. 20 rod b€ mogod ro péev dott
Siwpiopevov rd be ouveyes . . . eat S€ Stwpiopevov, oiov apiOyos
Kal Abyos, wuvexes SE otov ypappn emupavera, c@pa, ere S€ mapa
tavta xpdvos Kal rémos. It will be observed, however, that in this
passage from the Ca/egorzes the a
 BOOK II: CHAP. 6: §$§ 4-8. 193 term used is Stwpeopevov
not Seatperdv. Is Staperdv in the Lv¢hics 1106 a. 26. equivalent to
duwpopevov in the Categories? Against an affirmative answer we
have De Coelo i. 1. 268 a. 6 cuvexés pev otv éoti rd Scarperov cis
aet diaipera: and AZer. A. 13. 1020 a. IO A€yerar de wAHGOs pev
TO Suarperov Survdper eis py ovveyn, peyeOos Sé€ TO eis cuveyn,
from which passages it would appear that both péyedos and
mA7Oos, 7. ¢. both the cuvexés and the py cuvexés are Ssatperd. If
Suaperov then is to be distinguised from 16 Sr@picpevov, which
undoubtedly stands for m\néos, we must translate ouveyet kal
diatper@ by ‘ continuous and at the same time capable of division’—
the rendering rejected by Grant, but supported by the Paraphrast,
who has—év savri ouvexel, olov ypapph emupaveia, T@patt, 7
ASy@ 7) xpore, Kal dos ev ravTl Suvapeve SiarpeOqva', The writer
of the parallel passage in Z. £. il. 3 certainly understood the
reference to be to the ovveyés alone, and not to the cuvexés and
diapicpévov. His words are, 1220 b. 21 év Gravtt cuvexet kai
Siaper@ eoriv tmepoxy Kai €AdevYis Kal pevov" Kal TavtTa i) mpos
GAAnAa 7) TPds Tyas" olov ev yupvacTiKH ev iarpiKy ev oiKoSopiky,
ev KuBepyntiKn, Kal ev droiaody mpaket Kal entotnpovexy Kal
dvemiaTnpovikn, Kal TEXVLKH Kal aTéxyvo’ T pev yap Klynors
auvexés’ 7 Se mpakis kiynots. The Ald. Sch. follows the lead of
Eudemus. He says— mpdonrov 6Te macy mpager mapakxoAovbet
xpdvos, ovK EAaoaov dé rept makers 7) 7a0n 1) apetn’ KaO’ 6 ovv
ev xpovm, 6 B8€ xpdvos ev cuvEXEL KaL = \ a“ x 38 ‘ , , SraipeTo,
kara rovTo Kal adr TH Suaipeoww AnWerar. §§ 4-8.] It is unfortunate
that Aristotle, in introducing the subject of the ethical mean, gave
such prominence to the ouveyeés kai Siatperov 7.¢., to Quantity
simply as Quantity. He thereby invited scholastic explanations like
that by which Eudemus attempts to show ow moral action falls
under the head of the ovveyés— LE. LE ii. 3. 1220 b. 26 7 pev yap
Kimots cuveyes* 7 b€ mpakis kivnots : and laid his Theory open to
the (really false) charge of recognising only a quantitative difference
between Virtue and Vice. As a matter of fact, however, he is careful
to distinguish between the péeoov Tov mpayunatos and the pécov
mpos pas. The peécor rod mpaypatos, aS such, has no place in
morals, being confined to departments in which the ‘ middle,’ or
‘half,’ of something can be exactly measured, or counted. The pécov
pos nuas, with which 1 It is fair to add, however, that the Paraphrast
passes, a few lines below, from the ‘continuous’ to the ‘discrete’—but
uses the term Siwpicpévoy, not diatperdv. Aspasius is defective here.
(0)
 1106 a. 26. 194 BOOK II: CHAP. 6: §§ 4-8. alone we have
to do in morals, is that 6 pyre mAcovdger pyre €ddetzet, 7.e., that
which enables a particular person to correspond successfully with his
social environment. Here account must be taken of complicated
organic conditions, of complicated external circumstances, and of
intricate actions and reactions between these organic and external
factors: and the division of a cuvexés throws little light upon the
problem. This Aristotle sees clearly. It seems probable that, having
arrived at a satisfactory result in the preceding chapter by looking at
dpery7 in connexion with the Category of mov, he next turned to
that of wooov for help, and so stumbled upon 16 ovvexés, of which
his commentators have unfortunately made so much. When we have
found 76 péoov 7d rod mpaypatos, we have found a quantity simply.
But in ro pécov 7d mpos npas we have a quantity, as_it-is-related to
a quality, From oyjya, the fourth kind of movotns (see Cas. 8. 10 a.
11), we may obtain an illustration of the way in which quantity is
related to quality. Let us suppose that a disc is ‘of no use’ with a
diameter of 10 inches, and that it must be enlarged till it becomes a
disc ‘of a useful size.’ In adding matter (e.g. copper) to it, it is true
that we must not add ‘too much or too little’; but, more than this,
‘the due amount’ which we add must have ¢he quality of shape
suitable to a disc; the same ‘amount’ with another quality of shape
would not help us. This due amount thus circularly qualified might
be called 1d péoov ro rpos vov kukdov, It is clear then that 76
peécov 7d mpos jas, although it has its quantitative aspect, is
essentially that which is: qualitatively suitable to the moral character
in the circumstances in which it is placed *. The analogy between
the moral character and the definite wellbalanced forms of organic
nature, and of art, was always present to Aristotle’s mind; indeed we
have to look no farther than the gth section of this chapter to find it
mentioned. Living organisms, and works of art, are oynara, definite
after their kinds, which Nature and Man respectively form by
qualifying’ matter. ‘The 1 Cf. Trendelenburg Logische Untersuch .i.
358 sqq. : he remarks that Aristotle’s virtuous peodryns is not a
mere guantum, but keeps in view the qualitative peculiarity of virtue:
and that when Plato extols measure in the moral, natural, and
artistic worlds, he understands not measure fev se, but measure in
relation to a qualitative ed, It is in the end which it subserves that
measure has its ethical value.
 BOOK IT; CHAP. 6: & 7, 195 quantity of matter used in any
case is determined by the form 1106 a. 26. subserved ; the size of a
particular organ, or part, is determined by its form, which again is
determined by the form (limiting the size) of the whole organism, or
work. Thus animals and plants grow to sizes determined by their
particular structures, habitats, and conditions of life1, and each
separate organ observes the proportion of the whole to which it
belongs. The painter or sculptor considers the symmetry of the
whole composition in every detail of his work. The conductor of a
choir is forced to exclude a voice which surpasses all the others
conspicuously in beauty— Pol, iii. 8. 1284 b. 8 ovre yap ypapels
edoeev dv tov bmepBdddovta mda THs cuppetpias exew Td (Gov, od
ef Stahéepoe 7d KdAXOs* ovTE vavTNyos mptpvav 7} Tv Gd@v Te
popiay Tav Tis veds' ovde dy xopodidoKados Tov pei{ov kat Kd\ALov
Tod TavTds xdpou Pbeyyspevoy edoer cvyxopeverr. _in_all cases
Form dominates matter, quality quantity. Similarly, the moral
character is a definite Form which maintains itself as such, the
péoov, so-called, which it observes in various circumstances being
that course of action which is best fitted in’ the circumstances to
secure its continued maintenance. The less we think of the ‘middle,’
or ‘half’ of 73 ouvexes kal Scatperdy, in such a connexion, the better.
When an insect escapes capture by resembling the colour of the
leaves or bark on which it lives, its development of that particular
shade of colour and no other, has as much right to be described as
an observance of the péoor, as the temperance which protects the
citizen from extremes disastrous to himself and others. § 7. thy
dpbpntichy dvadoyiavy] otherwise dpOyyrixi) peodrns— a. 35.
defined by Nicomachus Gerasenus (dpi6. cicaywyy i. 23, p. 124, ed.
Hoche): ori ody dpiOuntixy peodrys, drav tpdv i) mreidver 6pewv
ehejs adAyAors Keypevay 7) emwoovpevay 1) adti Kata moadtnTa
Siadopa etploxnra perakd trav epe&ijs imdpxovoa, pr) pévroe Abyos
6 adros ev Tois Opois mpos aAAnAous yivyTat, oiov a, B, y, 5, «. ev
yap tH puvorky rabry exOecet Tov apiO.0d cuvex@s Kal
dvurepBdrws eLeraComérn ebpioxerar Tas 6aticovv Gpos dveiy ava
pécov teraypevos Thy apiOpnriKyy mpds adrovs Stacalov peodryta’
ioar yap ai Suapopai adrod eicl mpos Tovs Exarépwbev TeTaypévous,
OV pny ert Kal Adyos 6 aitos oa era ev aitois. Cf, also Archytas apud
Mullach /ragm. Phil. ii. 119. The dpiOunrixy peodrns answers to she
average as found by 1 Cf. Spencer’s Bzolozy, part ii. ch. 1 on Growth.
02