But to resume, let us now discuss the virtues severally, defining the nature of each, the class of objects to which it is related, and the way in which it is related to them. In so doing we shall also make it clear how many virtues there are. Let us first take Courage. We have already seen that Courage is the observance of the mean in respect of fear and confidence. Now it is clear that the things we fear are fearful things, which means, broadly speaking, evil things; so that fear is sometimes defined as the anticipation of evil. It is true then that we fear all evil things, for example, disgrace, poverty, disease, lack of friends, death; but it is not thought that Courage is related to all these things, for there are some evils which it is right and noble to fear and base not to fear, for instance, disgrace. One who fears disgrace is an honorable man, with a due sense of shame; one who does not fear it is shameless: though some people apply the term courageous to such a man by analogy, because he bears some resemblance to the courageous man in that the courageous man also is a fearless person. Again, it is no doubt right not to fear poverty, disease, or in general any evil not caused by vice and not due to ourselves. But one who is fearless in regard to these things is not courageous either (although the term is applied to him, too, by analogy);
ἀλλʼ ὅτι ἐφʼ ἡμῖν ἦν οὕτως ἢ μὴ οὕτω χρήσασθαι, διὰ τοῦτο ἑκούσιοι. ἀναλαβόντες δὲ περὶ ἑκάστης εἴπωμεν τίνες εἰσὶ καὶ περὶ ποῖα καὶ πῶς· ἅμα δʼ ἔσται δῆλον καὶ πόσαι εἰσίν. καὶ πρῶτον περὶ ἀνδρείας. ὅτι μὲν οὖν μεσότης ἐστὶ περὶ φόβους καὶ θάρρη, ἤδη φανερὸν γεγένηται· φοβούμεθα δὲ δῆλον ὅτι τὰ φοβερά, ταῦτα δʼ ἐστὶν ὡς ἁπλῶς εἰπεῖν κακά· διὸ καὶ τὸν φόβον ὁρίζονται προσδοκίαν κακοῦ. φοβούμεθα μὲν οὖν πάντα τὰ κακά, οἷον ἀδοξίαν πενίαν νόσον ἀφιλίαν θάνατον, ἀλλʼ οὐ περὶ πάντα δοκεῖ ὁ ἀνδρεῖος εἶναι· ἔνια γὰρ καὶ δεῖ φοβεῖσθαι καὶ καλόν, τὸ δὲ μὴ αἰσχρόν, οἷον ἀδοξίαν· ὁ μὲν γὰρ φοβούμενος ἐπιεικὴς καὶ αἰδήμων, ὁ δὲ μὴ φοβούμενος ἀναίσχυντος. λέγεται δʼ ὑπό τινων ἀνδρεῖος κατὰ μεταφοράν· ἔχει γάρ τι ὅμοιον τῷ ἀνδρείῳ· ἄφοβος γάρ τις καὶ ὁ ἀνδρεῖος. πενίαν δʼ ἴσως οὐ δεῖ φοβεῖσθαι οὐδὲ νόσον, οὐδʼ ὅλως ὅσα μὴ ἀπὸ κακίας μηδὲ διʼ αὑτόν. ἀλλʼ οὐδʼ ὁ περὶ ταῦτα ἄφοβος ἀνδρεῖος. λέγομεν δὲ καὶ τοῦτον καθʼ ὁμοιότητα·
since some men who are cowards in war are liberal with money, and face loss of fortune boldly. Nor yet is a man cowardly if he fears insult to his wife and children, or envy, or the like; nor courageous if he shows a bold face when about to undergo a flogging. What then are the fearful things in respect of which Courage is displayed? I suppose those which are the greatest, since there is no one more brave in enduring danger than the courageous man. Now the most terrible thing of all is death; for it is the end, and when a man is dead, nothing, we think, either good or evil can befall him any more. But even death, we should hold, does not in all circumstances give an opportunity for Courage: for instance we do not call a man courageous for facing death by drowning or disease. What form of death then is a test of Courage? Presumably that which is the noblest. Now the noblest form of death is death in battle, for it is encountered in the midst of the greatest and most noble of dangers. And this conclusion is borne out by the principle on which public honors are bestowed in republics and under monarchies. The courageous man, therefore, in the proper sense of the term, will be he who fearlessly confronts a noble death, or some sudden peril that threatens death; and the perils of war answer this description most fully. Not that the courageous man is not also fearless in a storm at sea (as also in illness), though not in the same way as sailors are fearless, for he thinks there is no hope of safety, and to die by drowning is revolting to him, whereas sailors keep up heart because of their experience.
ἔνιοι γὰρ ἐν τοῖς πολεμικοῖς κινδύνοις δειλοὶ ὄντες ἐλευθέριοί εἰσι καὶ πρὸς χρημάτων ἀποβολὴν εὐθαρσῶς ἔχουσιν. οὐδὲ δὴ εἴ τις ὕβριν περὶ παῖδας καὶ γυναῖκα φοβεῖται ἢ φθόνον ἤ τι τῶν τοιούτων, δειλός ἐστιν· οὐδʼ εἰ θαρρεῖ μέλλων μαστιγοῦσθαι, ἀνδρεῖος. περὶ ποῖα οὖν τῶν φοβερῶν ὁ ἀνδρεῖος; ἢ περὶ τὰ μέγιστα; οὐθεὶς γὰρ ὑπομενετικώτερος τῶν δεινῶν. φοβερώτατον δʼ ὁ θάνατος· πέρας γάρ, καὶ οὐδὲν ἔτι τῷ τεθνεῶτι δοκεῖ οὔτʼ ἀγαθὸν οὔτε κακὸν εἶναι. δόξειε δʼ ἂν οὐδὲ περὶ θάνατον τὸν ἐν παντὶ ὁ ἀνδρεῖος εἶναι, οἷον ἐν θαλάττῃ ἢ νόσοις. ἐν τίσιν οὖν; ἢ ἐν τοῖς καλλίστοις; τοιοῦτοι δὲ οἱ ἐν πολέμῳ· ἐν μεγίστῳ γὰρ καὶ καλλίστῳ κινδύνῳ. ὁμόλογοι δὲ τούτοις εἰσὶ καὶ αἱ τιμαὶ αἱ ἐν ταῖς πόλεσι καὶ παρὰ τοῖς μονάρχοις. κυρίως δὴ λέγοιτʼ ἂν ἀνδρεῖος ὁ περὶ τὸν καλὸν θάνατον ἀδεής, καὶ ὅσα θάνατον ἐπιφέρει ὑπόγυια ὄντα· τοιαῦτα δὲ μάλιστα τὰ κατὰ πόλεμον. οὐ μὴν ἀλλὰ καὶ ἐν θαλάττῃ καὶ ἐν νόσοις ἀδεὴς ὁ ἀνδρεῖος, οὐχ οὕτω δὲ ὡς οἱ θαλάττιοι·
Also Courage is shown in dangers where a man can defend himself by valor or die nobly, but neither is possible in disasters like shipwreck. Now although the same things are not fearful to everybody, there are some terrors which we pronounce beyond human endurance, and these of course are fearful to everyone in his senses. And the terrors that man can endure differ in magnitude and degree; as also do the situations inspiring confidence. But the courageous man is proof against fear so far as man may be. Hence although he will sometimes fear even terrors not beyond man’s endurance, he will do so in the right way, and he will endure them as principle dictates, for the sake of what is noble; for that is the end at which virtue aims. On the other hand it is possible to fear such terrors too much, and too little; and also to fear things that are not fearful as if they were fearful. Error arises either from fearing what one ought not to fear, or from fearing in the wrong manner, or at the wrong time, or the like; and similarly with regard to occasions for confidence. The courageous man then is he that endures or fears the right things and for the right purpose and in the right manner and at the right time, and who shows confidence in a similar way. (For the courageous man feels and acts as the circumstances merit, and as principle may dictate.
οἳ μὲν γὰρ ἀπεγνώκασι τὴν σωτηρίαν καὶ τὸν θάνατον τὸν τοιοῦτον δυσχεραίνουσιν, οἳ δὲ εὐέλπιδές εἰσι παρὰ τὴν ἐμπειρίαν. ἅμα δὲ καὶ ἀνδρίζονται ἐν οἷς ἐστὶν ἀλκὴ ἢ καλὸν τὸ ἀποθανεῖν· ἐν ταῖς τοιαύταις δὲ φθοραῖς οὐδέτερον ὑπάρχει. τὸ δὲ φοβερὸν οὐ πᾶσι μὲν τὸ αὐτό, λέγομεν δέ τι καὶ ὑπὲρ ἄνθρωπον. τοῦτο μὲν οὖν παντὶ φοβερὸν τῷ γε νοῦν ἔχοντι· τὰ δὲ κατʼ ἄνθρωπον διαφέρει μεγέθει καὶ τῷ μᾶλλον καὶ ἧττον· ὁμοίως δὲ καὶ τὰ θαρραλέα. ὁ δὲ ἀνδρεῖος ἀνέκπληκτος ὡς ἄνθρωπος. φοβήσεται μὲν οὖν καὶ τὰ τοιαῦτα, ὡς δεῖ δὲ καὶ ὡς ὁ λόγος ὑπομενεῖ τοῦ καλοῦ ἕνεκα· τοῦτο γὰρ τέλος τῆς ἀρετῆς. ἔστι δὲ μᾶλλον καὶ ἧττον ταῦτα φοβεῖσθαι, καὶ ἔτι τὰ μὴ φοβερὰ ὡς τοιαῦτα φοβεῖσθαι. γίνεται δὲ τῶν ἁμαρτιῶν ἣ μὲν ὅτι ⟨ὃ⟩ οὐ δεῖ, ἣ δὲ ὅτι οὐχ ὡς δεῖ, ἣ δὲ ὅτι οὐχ ὅτε, ἤ τι τῶν τοιούτων· ὁμοίως δὲ καὶ περὶ τὰ θαρραλέα. ὁ μὲν οὖν ἃ δεῖ καὶ οὗ ἕνεκα ὑπομένων καὶ φοβούμενος, καὶ ὡς δεῖ καὶ ὅτε, ὁμοίως δὲ καὶ θαρρῶν, ἀνδρεῖος· κατʼ ἀξίαν γάρ, καὶ ὡς ἂν ὁ λόγος, πάσχει καὶ πράττει ὁ ἀνδρεῖος.
And every activity aims at the end that corresponds to the disposition of which it is the manifestation. So it is therefore with the activity of the courageous man: his courage is noble; therefore its end is nobility, for a thing is defined by its end; therefore the courageous man endures the terrors and dares the deeds that manifest courage, for the sake of that which is noble.) Of the characters that run to excess, on the other hand, he who exceeds in fearlessness has no name (this, as we remarked before, is the case with many qualities), but we should call a man mad, or else insensitive to pain, if he feared nothing, “earthquake nor billows,” as they say of the Kelts; he who exceeds in confidence [in the face of fearful things ] is rash. The rash man is generally thought to be an impostor, who pretends to courage which he does not possess; at least, he wishes to appear to feel towards fearful things as the courageous man actually does feel, and therefore he imitates him in the things in which he can. Hence most rash men really are cowards at heart, for they make a bold show in situations that inspire confidence, but do not endure terrors. He that exceeds in fear is a coward, for he fears the wrong things, and in the wrong manner, and soon with the rest of the list.
τέλος δὲ πάσης ἐνεργείας ἐστὶ τὸ κατὰ τὴν ἕξιν. †καὶ τῷ ἀνδρείῳ δὲ ἡ ἀνδρεία καλόν.† τοιοῦτον δὴ καὶ τὸ τέλος· ὁρίζεται γὰρ ἕκαστον τῷ τέλει. καλοῦ δὴ ἕνεκα ὁ ἀνδρεῖος ὑπομένει καὶ πράττει τὰ κατὰ τὴν ἀνδρείαν. τῶν δʼ ὑπερβαλλόντων ὁ μὲν τῇ ἀφοβίᾳ ἀνώνυμος (εἴρηται δʼ ἡμῖν ἐν τοῖς πρότερον ὅτι πολλά ἐστιν ἀνώνυμα), εἴη δʼ ἄν τις μαινόμενος ἢ ἀνάλγητος, εἰ μηδὲν φοβοῖτο, μήτε σεισμὸν μήτε κύματα, καθάπερ φασὶ τοὺς Κελτούς· ὁ δὲ τῷ θαρρεῖν ὑπερβάλλων περὶ τὰ φοβερὰ θρασύς. δοκεῖ δὲ καὶ ἀλαζὼν εἶναι ὁ θρασὺς καὶ προσποιητικὸς ἀνδρείας· ὡς γοῦν ἐκεῖνος περὶ τὰ φοβερὰ ἔχει, οὗτος βούλεται φαίνεσθαι· ἐν οἷς οὖν δύναται, μιμεῖται. διὸ καὶ εἰσὶν οἱ πολλοὶ αὐτῶν θρασύδειλοι· ἐν τούτοις γὰρ θρασυνόμενοι τὰ φοβερὰ οὐχ ὑπομένουσιν. ὁ δὲ τῷ φοβεῖσθαι ὑπερβάλλων δειλός· καὶ γὰρ ἃ μὴ δεῖ καὶ ὡς οὐ δεῖ, καὶ πάντα τὰ τοιαῦτα ἀκολουθεῖ αὐτῷ.
He is also deficient in confidence; but his excessive fear in face of pain is more apparent. The coward is therefore a despondent person, being afraid of everything; but the courageous man is just the opposite, for confidence belongs to a sanguine temperament. The coward, the rash man, and the courageous man are therefore concerned with the same objects, but are differently disposed towards them: the two former exceed and fall short, the last keeps the mean and the right disposition. The rash, moreover, are impetuous, and though eager before the danger comes they hang back at the critical moment; whereas the courageous are keen at the time of action but calm beforehand. As has been said then, Courage is the observance of the mean in relation to things that inspire confidence or fear, in the circumstances stated; and it is confident and endures because it is noble to do so or base not to do so. But to seek death in order to escape from poverty, or the pangs of love, or from pain or sorrow, is not the act of a courageous man, but rather of a coward; for it is weakness to fly from troubles, and the suicide does not endure death because it is noble to do so, but to escape evil. Such is the nature of Courage; but the name is also applied to five divergent types of character. (1) First, as most closely resembling true Courage comes the citizen’s courage. Citizen troops appear to endure dangers because of the legal penalties and the reproach attaching to cowardice, and the honors awarded to bravery;
ἐλλείπει δὲ καὶ τῷ θαρρεῖν· ἀλλʼ ἐν ταῖς λύπαις ὑπερβάλλων μᾶλλον καταφανής ἐστιν. δύσελπις δή τις ὁ δειλός· πάντα γὰρ φοβεῖται. ὁ δʼ ἀνδρεῖος ἐναντίως· τὸ γὰρ θαρρεῖν εὐέλπιδος. περὶ ταὐτὰ μὲν οὖν ἐστὶν ὅ τε δειλὸς καὶ ὁ θρασὺς καὶ ὁ ἀνδρεῖος, διαφόρως δʼ ἔχουσι πρὸς αὐτά· οἳ μὲν γὰρ ὑπερβάλλουσι καὶ ἐλλείπουσιν, ὃ δὲ μέσως ἔχει καὶ ὡς δεῖ· καὶ οἱ μὲν θρασεῖς προπετεῖς, καὶ βουλόμενοι πρὸ τῶν κινδύνων ἐν αὐτοῖς δʼ ἀφίστανται, οἱ δʼ ἀνδρεῖοι ἐν τοῖς ἔργοις ὀξεῖς, πρότερον δʼ ἡσύχιοι. καθάπερ οὖν εἴρηται, ἡ ἀνδρεία μεσότης ἐστὶ περὶ θαρραλέα καὶ φοβερά, ἐν οἷς εἴρηται, καὶ ὅτι καλὸν αἱρεῖται καὶ ὑπομένει, ἢ ὅτι αἰσχρὸν τὸ μή. τὸ δʼ ἀποθνήσκειν φεύγοντα πενίαν ἢ ἔρωτα ἤ τι λυπηρὸν οὐκ ἀνδρείου, ἀλλὰ μᾶλλον δειλοῦ· μαλακία γὰρ τὸ φεύγειν τὰ ἐπίπονα, καὶ οὐχ ὅτι καλὸν ὑπομένει, ἀλλὰ φεύγων κακόν. ἔστι μὲν οὖν ἡ ἀνδρεία τοιοῦτόν τι, λέγονται δὲ καὶ ἕτεραι κατὰ πέντε τρόπους· πρῶτον μὲν ἡ πολιτική· μάλιστα γὰρ ἔοικεν. δοκοῦσι γὰρ ὑπομένειν τοὺς κινδύνους οἱ πολῖται διὰ τὰ ἐκ τῶν νόμων ἐπιτίμια καὶ τὰ ὀνείδη καὶ διὰ τὰς τιμάς·
hence those races appear to be the bravest among which cowards are degraded and brave men held in honor. It is this citizen courage which inspires the heroes portrayed by Homer, like Diomede and Hector:
καὶ διὰ τοῦτο ἀνδρειότατοι δοκοῦσιν εἶναι παρʼ οἷς οἱ δειλοὶ ἄτιμοι καὶ οἱ ἀνδρεῖοι ἔντιμοι. τοιούτους δὲ καὶ Ὅμηρος ποιεῖ, οἷον τὸν Διομήδην καὶ τὸν Ἕκτορα·
Polydamas will be the first to flout me;and Diomede saysHector will make his boast at Troy hereafter:“By me was Tydeus’ son...” This type of courage most closely resembles the one described before, because it is prompted by a virtue, namely the sense of shame, and by the desire for something noble, namely honor, and the wish to avoid the disgrace of being reproached. The courage of troops forced into battle by their officers may be classed as of the same type, though they are inferior inasmuch as their motive is not a sense of shame but fear, and the desire to avoid not disgrace but pain. Their masters compel them to be brave, after Hector’s fashion:Let me see any skulking off the field—He shall not save his carcase from the dogs! The same is done by commanders who draw up their troops in front of them and beat them if they give ground, or who form them in line with a trench or some other obstacle in the rear; all these are using compulsion.
Πουλυδάμας μοι πρῶτος ἐλεγχείην ἀναθήσει·καὶ [Διομήδης]Ἕκτωρ γάρ ποτε φήσει ἐνὶ Τρώεσσʼ ἀγορεύωνΤυδείδης ὑπʼ ἐμεῖο.ὡμοίωται δʼ αὕτη μάλιστα τῇ πρότερον εἰρημένῃ, ὅτι διʼ ἀρετὴν γίνεται· διʼ αἰδῶ γὰρ καὶ διὰ καλοῦ ὄρεξιν (τιμῆς γάρ) καὶ φυγὴν ὀνείδους, αἰσχροῦ ὄντος. τάξαι δʼ ἄν τις καὶ τοὺς ὑπὸ τῶν ἀρχόντων ἀναγκαζομένους εἰς ταὐτό· χείρους δʼ, ὅσῳ οὐ διʼ αἰδῶ ἀλλὰ διὰ φόβον αὐτὸ δρῶσι, καὶ φεύγοντες οὐ τὸ αἰσχρὸν ἀλλὰ τὸ λυπηρόν· ἀναγκάζουσι γὰρ οἱ κύριοι, ὥσπερ ὁ Ἕκτωρὃν δέ κʼ ἐγὼν ἀπάνευθε μάχης πτώσσοντα νοήσω,οὔ οἱ ἄρκιον ἐσσεῖται φυγέειν κύνας.καὶ οἱ προστάττοντες, κἂν ἀναχωρῶσι τύπτοντες, τὸ αὐτὸ δρῶσι, καὶ οἱ πρὸ τῶν τάφρων καὶ τῶν τοιούτων παρατάττοντες·
A man ought not to be brave because he is compelled to be, but because courage is noble. (2) Again, experience of some particular form of danger is taken for a sort of Courage; hence arose Socrates’ notion that Courage is Knowledge. This type of bravery is displayed in various circumstances, and particularly in war by professional soldiers. For war (as the saying is) is full of false alarms, a fact which these men have had most opportunity of observing; thus they appear courageous owing to others’ ignorance of the true situation. Also experience renders them the most efficient in inflicting loss on the enemy without sustaining it themselves, as they are skilled in the use of arms, and equipped with the best ones both for attack and defence. So that they are like armed men fighting against unarmed, or trained athletes against amateurs; for even in athletic contests it is not the bravest men who are the best fighters, but those who are strongest and in the best training. But professional soldiers prove cowards when the danger imposes too great a strain, and when they are at a disadvantage in numbers and equipment; for they are the first to run away, while citizen troops stand their ground and die fighting, as happened in the battle at the temple of Hermes. This is because citizens think it disgraceful to run away, and prefer death to safety so procured; whereas professional soldiers were relying from the outset on superior strength, and when they discover they are outnumbered they take to flight, fearing death more than disgrace.
πάντες γὰρ ἀναγκάζουσιν. δεῖ δʼ οὐ διʼ ἀνάγκην ἀνδρεῖον εἶναι, ἀλλʼ ὅτι καλόν. δοκεῖ δὲ καὶ ἡ ἐμπειρία ἡ περὶ ἕκαστα ἀνδρεία εἶναι· ὅθεν καὶ ὁ Σωκράτης ᾠήθη ἐπιστήμην εἶναι τὴν ἀνδρείαν. τοιοῦτοι δὲ ἄλλοι μὲν ἐν ἄλλοις, ἐν τοῖς πολεμικοῖς δʼ οἱ στρατιῶται· δοκεῖ γὰρ εἶναι πολλὰ κενὰ τοῦ πολέμου, ἃ μάλιστα συνεωράκασιν οὗτοι· φαίνονται δὴ ἀνδρεῖοι, ὅτι οὐκ ἴσασιν οἱ ἄλλοι οἷά ἐστιν. εἶτα ποιῆσαι καὶ μὴ παθεῖν μάλιστα δύνανται ἐκ τῆς ἐμπειρίας, δυνάμενοι χρῆσθαι τοῖς ὅπλοις καὶ τοιαῦτα ἔχοντες ὁποῖα ἂν εἴη καὶ πρὸς τὸ ποιῆσαι καὶ πρὸς τὸ μὴ παθεῖν κράτιστα· ὥσπερ οὖν ἀνόπλοις ὡπλισμένοι μάχονται καὶ ἀθληταὶ ἰδιώταις· καὶ γὰρ ἐν τοῖς τοιούτοις ἀγῶσιν οὐχ οἱ ἀνδρειότατοι μαχιμώτατοί εἰσιν, ἀλλʼ οἱ μάλιστα ἰσχύοντες καὶ τὰ σώματα ἄριστα ἔχοντες. οἱ στρατιῶται δὲ δειλοὶ γίνονται, ὅταν ὑπερτείνῃ ὁ κίνδυνος καὶ λείπωνται τοῖς πλήθεσι καὶ ταῖς παρασκευαῖς· πρῶτοι γὰρ φεύγουσι, τὰ δὲ πολιτικὰ μένοντα ἀποθνήσκει, ὅπερ κἀπὶ τῷ Ἑρμαίῳ συνέβη. τοῖς μὲν γὰρ αἰσχρὸν τὸ φεύγειν καὶ ὁ θάνατος τῆς τοιαύτης σωτηρίας αἱρετώτερος·
But this is not true courage. (3) Spirit or anger is also classed with Courage. Men emboldened by anger, like wild beasts which rush upon the hunter that has wounded them, are supposed to be courageous, because the courageous also are high-spirited; for spirit is very impetuous in encountering danger. Hence Homer writes, “he put strength in their spirit,” and “roused their might and their spirit,” and “bitter wrath up through his nostrils welled,” and “his blood boiled”; for all such symptoms seem to indicate an excitement and impulse of the spirit. Thus the real motive of courageous men is the nobility of courage, although spirit operates in them as well; but wild animals are emboldened by pain, for they turn to bay because they are wounded, or frightened—since if they are in a forest or a swamp they do not attack. Therefore they are not to be considered courageous for rushing upon danger when spurred by pain and anger, and blind to the dangers that await them; since on that reckoning even asses would be brave, when they are hungry, for no blows will make them stop grazing!
οἳ δὲ καὶ ἐξ ἀρχῆς ἐκινδύνευον ὡς κρείττους ὄντες, γνόντες δὲ φεύγουσι, τὸν θάνατον μᾶλλον τοῦ αἰσχροῦ φοβούμενοι· ὁ δʼ ἀνδρεῖος οὐ τοιοῦτος. καὶ τὸν θυμὸν δʼ ἐπὶ τὴν ἀνδρείαν φέρουσιν· ἀνδρεῖοι γὰρ εἶναι δοκοῦσι καὶ οἱ διὰ θυμὸν ὥσπερ τὰ θηρία ἐπὶ τοὺς τρώσαντας φερόμενα, ὅτι καὶ οἱ ἀνδρεῖοι θυμοειδεῖς· ἰτητικώτατον γὰρ ὁ θυμὸς πρὸς τοὺς κινδύνους, ὅθεν καὶ Ὅμηρος σθένος ἔμβαλε θυμῷ καὶ μένος καὶ θυμὸν ἔγειρε καὶ δριμὺ δʼ ἀνὰ ῥῖνας μένος καὶ ἔζεσεν αἷμα· πάντα γὰρ τὰ τοιαῦτα ἔοικε σημαίνειν τὴν τοῦ θυμοῦ ἔγερσιν καὶ ὁρμήν. οἱ μὲν οὖν ἀνδρεῖοι διὰ τὸ καλὸν πράττουσιν, ὁ δὲ θυμὸς συνεργεῖ αὐτοῖς· τὰ θηρία δὲ διὰ λύπην· διὰ γὰρ τὸ πληγῆναι ἢ διὰ τὸ φοβεῖσθαι, ἐπεὶ ἐάν γε ἐν ὕλῃ [ἢ ἐν ἕλει] ᾖ, οὐ προσέρχονται. οὐ δή ἐστιν ἀνδρεῖα διὰ τὸ ὑπʼ ἀλγηδόνος καὶ θυμοῦ ἐξελαυνόμενα πρὸς τὸν κίνδυνον ὁρμᾶν, οὐθὲν τῶν δεινῶν προορῶντα, ἐπεὶ οὕτω γε κἂν οἱ ὄνοι ἀνδρεῖοι εἶεν πεινῶντες· τυπτόμενοι γὰρ οὐκ ἀφίστανται τῆς νομῆς·
(And adulterers also are led to do many daring things by lust.) But the form of courage that is inspired by spirit seems to be the most natural, and when reinforced by deliberate choice and purpose it appears to be true Courage. And human beings also feel pain when angry, and take pleasure in revenge. But those who fight for these motives, though valiant fighters, are not courageous; for the motive of their confidence is not honor, nor is it guided by principle, but it springs from feeling. However, they show some affinity to true Courage. (4) Nor yet again is the boldness of the sanguine the same thing as Courage. The sanguine are confident in face of danger because they have won many victories over many foes before. They resemble the courageous, because both are confident, but whereas the courageous are confident for the reasons already explained, the sanguine are so because they think they are stronger than the enemy, and not likely told come to any harm. (A similar boldness is shown by men who get drunk, for this makes them sanguine for the time being.) When however things do not turn out as they expect, the merely sanguine run away, whereas the mark of the courageous man, as we have seen, is to endure things that are terrible to a human being and that seem so to him, because it is noble to do so and base not to do so. Hence it is thought a sign of still greater courage to be fearless and undismayed in sudden alarms than in dangers that were foreseen.
καὶ οἱ μοιχοὶ δὲ διὰ τὴν ἐπιθυμίαν τολμηρὰ πολλὰ δρῶσιν. [οὐ δή ἐστιν ἀνδρεῖα τὰ διʼ ἀλγηδόνος ἢ θυμοῦ ἐξελαυνόμενα πρὸς τὸν κίνδυνον.] φυσικωτάτη δʼ ἔοικεν ἡ διὰ τὸν θυμὸν εἶναι, καὶ προσλαβοῦσα προαίρεσιν καὶ τὸ οὗ ἕνεκα ἀνδρεία εἶναι. καὶ οἱ ἄνθρωποι δὴ ὀργιζόμενοι μὲν ἀλγοῦσι, τιμωρούμενοι δʼ ἥδονται· οἱ δὲ διὰ ταῦτα μαχόμενοι μάχιμοι μέν, οὐκ ἀνδρεῖοι δέ· οὐ γὰρ διὰ τὸ καλὸν οὐδʼ ὡς ὁ λόγος, ἀλλὰ διὰ πάθος· παραπλήσιον δʼ ἔχουσί τι. οὐδὲ δὴ οἱ εὐέλπιδες ὄντες ἀνδρεῖοι· διὰ γὰρ τὸ πολλάκις καὶ πολλοὺς νενικηκέναι θαρροῦσιν ἐν τοῖς κινδύνοις· παρόμοιοι δέ, ὅτι ἄμφω θαρραλέοι· ἀλλʼ οἱ μὲν ἀνδρεῖοι διὰ τὰ πρότερον εἰρημένα θαρραλέοι, οἳ δὲ διὰ τὸ οἴεσθαι κράτιστοι εἶναι καὶ μηθὲν ἂν παθεῖν. τοιοῦτον δὲ ποιοῦσι καὶ οἱ μεθυσκόμενοι· εὐέλπιδες γὰρ γίνονται. ὅταν δὲ αὐτοῖς μὴ συμβῇ τὰ τοιαῦτα, φεύγουσιν· ἀνδρείου δʼ ἦν τὰ φοβερὰ ἀνθρώπῳ ὄντα καὶ φαινόμενα ὑπομένειν, ὅτι καλὸν καὶ αἰσχρὸν τὸ μή. διὸ καὶ ἀνδρειοτέρου δοκεῖ εἶναι τὸ ἐν τοῖς αἰφνιδίοις φόβοις ἄφοβον καὶ ἀτάραχον εἶναι ἢ ἐν τοῖς προδήλοις·
Bravery in unforeseen danger springs more from character, as there is less time for preparation; one might resolve to face a danger one can foresee, from calculation and on principle, but only a fixed disposition of Courage will enable one to face sudden peril. (5) Those who face danger in ignorance also appear courageous; and they come very near to those whose bravery rests on a sanguine temperament, though inferior to them inasmuch as they lack self-confidence, which the sanguine possess. Hence the sanguine stand firm for a time; whereas those who have been deceived as to the danger, if they learn or suspect the true state of affairs, take to flight, as the Argives did when they encountered the Lacedaemonians and thought they were Sicyonians. We have now described the characteristics both of the courageous and of those who are thought to be courageous. Courage is displayed with respect to confidence and fear, but not with respect to both equally: it is more particularly displayed in regard to objects of fear; for one who is unperturbed in the presence of terrors and comports himself rightly towards these is courageous in a fuller sense than one who does so in situations that inspire confidence. In fact, as has been said, men are sometimes called courageous for enduring pain. Hence Courage itself is painful; and it is justly praised, because it is harder to endure pain than to abstain from pleasure.
ἀπὸ ἕξεως γὰρ μᾶλλον ἦν, ὅτι ἧττον ἐκ παρασκευῆς· τὰ προφανῆ μὲν γὰρ κἂν ἐκ λογισμοῦ καὶ λόγου τις προέλοιτο, τὰ δʼ ἐξαίφνης κατὰ τὴν ἕξιν. ἀνδρεῖοι δὲ φαίνονται καὶ οἱ ἀγνοοῦντες, καὶ εἰσὶν οὐ πόρρω τῶν εὐελπίδων, χείρους δʼ ὅσῳ ἀξίωμα οὐδὲν ἔχουσιν, ἐκεῖνοι δέ. διὸ καὶ μένουσί τινα χρόνον· οἱ δʼ ἠπατημένοι, ἐὰν γνῶσιν ὅτι ἕτερον ἢ ὑποπτεύσωσι, φεύγουσιν· ὅπερ οἱ Ἀργεῖοι ἔπαθον περιπεσόντες τοῖς Λάκωσιν ὡς Σικυωνίοις. οἵ τε δὴ ἀνδρεῖοι εἴρηνται ποῖοί τινες, καὶ οἱ δοκοῦντες ἀνδρεῖοι. περὶ θάρρη δὲ καὶ φόβους ἡ ἀνδρεία οὖσα οὐχ ὁμοίως περὶ ἄμφω ἐστίν, ἀλλὰ μᾶλλον περὶ τὰ φοβερά· ὁ γὰρ ἐν τούτοις ἀτάραχος καὶ περὶ ταῦθʼ ὡς δεῖ ἔχων ἀνδρεῖος μᾶλλον ἢ ὁ περὶ τὰ θαρραλέα. τῷ δὴ τὰ λυπηρὰ ὑπομένειν, ὡς εἴρηται, ἀνδρεῖοι λέγονται. διὸ καὶ ἐπίλυπον ἡ ἀνδρεία, καὶ δικαίως ἐπαινεῖται· χαλεπώτερον γὰρ τὰ λυπηρὰ ὑπομένειν ἢ τῶν ἡδέων ἀπέχεσθαι.
Not but what it would appear that the end corresponding to the virtue of Courage is really pleasant, only its pleasantness is obscured by the attendant circumstances. This is illustrated by the case of athletic contests: to boxers, for example, their end—the object they box for, the wreath and the honors of victory—is pleasant, but the blows they receive must hurt them, being men of flesh and blood, and all the labor of training is painful; and these painful incidentals are so numerous that the final object, being a small thing, appears not to contain any pleasure at all. If then the same is true of Courage, the death or wounds that it may bring will be painful to the courageous man, and he will suffer them unwillingly; but he will endure them because it is noble to do so, or because it is base not to do so. And the more complete his virtue, and the fuller the happiness he has attained, the more pain will death cause him; for to such a man life is worth most, and he stands to lose the greatest goods, and knows that this is so, and this must be painful. But he is none the less courageous on that account, perhaps indeed he is more so, because he prefers glory in war to the greatest prizes of life. It is not true therefore of every virtue that its active exercise is essentially pleasant, save in so far as it attains its end. No doubt it is possible that such men as these do not make the best professional soldiers, but men who are less courageous, and have nothing of value besides life to lose; for these face danger readily, and will barter their lives for trifling gains.
οὐ μὴν ἀλλὰ δόξειεν ἂν εἶναι τὸ κατὰ τὴν ἀνδρείαν τέλος ἡδύ, ὑπὸ τῶν κύκλῳ δʼ ἀφανίζεσθαι, οἷον κἀν τοῖς γυμνικοῖς ἀγῶσι γίνεται· τοῖς γὰρ πύκταις τὸ μὲν τέλος ἡδύ, οὗ ἕνεκα, ὁ στέφανος καὶ αἱ τιμαί, τὸ δὲ τύπτεσθαι ἀλγεινόν, εἴπερ σάρκινοι, καὶ λυπηρόν, καὶ πᾶς ὁ πόνος· διὰ δὲ τὸ πολλὰ ταῦτʼ εἶναι, μικρὸν ὂν τὸ οὗ ἕνεκα οὐδὲν ἡδὺ φαίνεται ἔχειν. εἰ δὴ τοιοῦτόν ἐστι καὶ τὸ περὶ τὴν ἀνδρείαν, ὁ μὲν θάνατος καὶ τὰ τραύματα λυπηρὰ τῷ ἀνδρείῳ καὶ ἄκοντι ἔσται, ὑπομενεῖ δὲ αὐτὰ ὅτι καλὸν ἢ ὅτι αἰσχρὸν τὸ μή. καὶ ὅσῳ ἂν μᾶλλον τὴν ἀρετὴν ἔχῃ πᾶσαν καὶ εὐδαιμονέστερος ᾖ, μᾶλλον ἐπὶ τῷ θανάτῳ λυπήσεται· τῷ τοιούτῳ γὰρ μάλιστα ζῆν ἄξιον, καὶ οὗτος μεγίστων ἀγαθῶν ἀποστερεῖται εἰδώς, λυπηρὸν δὲ τοῦτο. ἀλλʼ οὐδὲν ἧττον ἀνδρεῖος, ἴσως δὲ καὶ μᾶλλον, ὅτι τὸ ἐν τῷ πολέμῳ καλὸν ἀντʼ ἐκείνων αἱρεῖται. οὐ δὴ ἐν ἁπάσαις ταῖς ἀρεταῖς τὸ ἡδέως ἐνεργεῖν ὑπάρχει, πλὴν ἐφʼ ὅσον τοῦ τέλους ἐφάπτεται. στρατιώτας δʼ οὐδὲν ἴσως κωλύει μὴ τοὺς τοιούτους κρατίστους εἶναι, ἀλλὰ τοὺς ἧττον μὲν ἀνδρείους, ἄλλο δʼ ἀγαθὸν μηδὲν ἔχοντας· ἕτοιμοι γὰρ οὗτοι πρὸς τοὺς κινδύνους, καὶ τὸν βίον πρὸς μικρὰ κέρδη καταλλάττονται.
Let this suffice as an account of Courage: from what has been said it will not be difficult to form at all events a rough conception of its nature. After Courage let us speak of Temperance; for these appear to be the virtues of the irrational parts of the soul. Now we have said that Temperance is the observance of the mean in relation to pleasures (for it is concerned only in a lesser degree and in a different way with pains); and Profligacy also is displayed in the same matters. Let us then now define the sort of pleasures to which these qualities are related. Now we must make a distinction between pleasures of the body and pleasures of the soul: Take for instance ambition, or love of learning: the lover of honor or of learning takes pleasure in the thing he loves without his body being affected at all; the experience is purely mental. But we do not speak of men as either temperate or profligate in relation to the pleasures of ambition and of learning. Nor similarly can these terms be applied to the enjoyment of any of the other pleasures that are not bodily pleasures: those who love hearing marvellous tales and telling anecdotes, and who spend their days in trivial gossip, we call idle chatterers, but not profligates;
περὶ μὲν οὖν ἀνδρείας ἐπὶ τοσοῦτον εἰρήσθω· τί δʼ ἐστίν, οὐ χαλεπὸν τύπῳ γε περιλαβεῖν ἐκ τῶν εἰρημένων. μετὰ δὲ ταύτην περὶ σωφροσύνης λέγωμεν· δοκοῦσι γὰρ τῶν ἀλόγων μερῶν αὗται εἶναι αἱ ἀρεταί. ὅτι μὲν οὖν μεσότης ἐστὶ περὶ ἡδονὰς ἡ σωφροσύνη, εἴρηται ἡμῖν· ἧττον γὰρ καὶ οὐχ ὁμοίως ἐστὶ περὶ τὰς λύπας· ἐν τοῖς αὐτοῖς δὲ καὶ ἡ ἀκολασία φαίνεται. περὶ ποίας οὖν τῶν ἡδονῶν, νῦν ἀφορίσωμεν. διῃρήσθωσαν δὴ αἱ ψυχικαὶ καὶ αἱ σωματικαί, οἷον φιλοτιμία φιλομάθεια· ἑκάτερος γὰρ τούτων χαίρει, οὗ φιλητικός ἐστιν, οὐδὲν πάσχοντος τοῦ σώματος, ἀλλὰ μᾶλλον τῆς διανοίας· οἱ δὲ περὶ τὰς τοιαύτας ἡδονὰς οὔτε σώφρονες οὔτε ἀκόλαστοι λέγονται. ὁμοίως δʼ οὐδʼ οἱ περὶ τὰς ἄλλας ὅσαι μὴ σωματικαί εἰσιν· τοὺς γὰρ φιλομύθους καὶ διηγητικοὺς καὶ περὶ τῶν τυχόντων κατατρίβοντας τὰς ἡμέρας ἀδολέσχας, ἀκολάστους δʼ οὐ λέγομεν, οὐδὲ τοὺς λυπουμένους ἐπὶ χρήμασιν ἢ φίλοις.
nor do we call men profligate who feel excessive pain for the loss of fortune or friends. Temperance therefore has to do with the pleasures of the body. But not with all even of these; for men who delight in the pleasures of the eye, in colors, forms and paintings, are not termed either temperate or profligate, although it would be held that these things also can be enjoyed in the right manner, or too much, or too little. Similarly with the objects of hearing: no one would term profligate those who take an excessive pleasure in music, or the theater, nor temperate those who enjoy them as is right. Nor yet does Temperance apply to enjoyment of the sense of smell, unless accidentally; we do not call those who are fond of the scent of fruit or robes or incense profligate, though we may be inclined so to style those who love perfumes and the smell of savory dishes, for the profligate take pleasure in these odors because they remind them of the objects of their desires. One may notice that other persons too like the smell of food when they are hungry; but to delight in things of this kind is a mark of the profligate, since they are the things on which the profligate’s desires are set. Nor do the lower animals derive any pleasure from these senses, except accidentally. Hounds do not take pleasure in scenting hares, but in eating them; the scent merely made them aware of the hare.
περὶ δὲ τὰς σωματικὰς εἴη ἂν ἡ σωφροσύνη, οὐ πάσας δὲ οὐδὲ ταύτας· οἱ γὰρ χαίροντες τοῖς διὰ τῆς ὄψεως, οἷον χρώμασι καὶ σχήμασι καὶ γραφῇ, οὔτε σώφρονες οὔτε ἀκόλαστοι λέγονται· καίτοι δόξειεν ἂν εἶναι καὶ ὡς δεῖ χαίρειν καὶ τούτοις, καὶ καθʼ ὑπερβολὴν καὶ ἔλλειψιν. ὁμοίως δὲ καὶ ἐν τοῖς περὶ τὴν ἀκοήν· τοὺς γὰρ ὑπερβεβλημένως χαίροντας μέλεσιν ἢ ὑποκρίσει οὐθεὶς ἀκολάστους λέγει, οὐδὲ τοὺς ὡς δεῖ σώφρονας. οὐδὲ τοὺς περὶ τὴν ὀσμήν, πλὴν κατὰ συμβεβηκός· τοὺς γὰρ χαίροντας μήλων ἢ ῥόδων ἢ θυμιαμάτων ὀσμαῖς οὐ λέγομεν ἀκολάστους, ἀλλὰ μᾶλλον τοὺς μύρων ἢ ὄψων· χαίρουσι γὰρ τούτοις οἱ ἀκόλαστοι, ὅτι διὰ τούτων ἀνάμνησις γίνεται αὐτοῖς τῶν ἐπιθυμημάτων. ἴδοι δʼ ἄν τις καὶ τοὺς ἄλλους, ὅταν πεινῶσι, χαίροντας ταῖς τῶν βρωμάτων ὀσμαῖς· τὸ δὲ τοιούτοις χαίρειν ἀκολάστου· τούτῳ γὰρ ἐπιθυμήματα ταῦτα. οὐκ ἔστι δὲ οὐδʼ ἐν τοῖς ἄλλοις ζῴοις κατὰ ταύτας τὰς αἰσθήσεις ἡδονὴ πλὴν κατὰ συμβεβηκός. οὐδὲ γὰρ ταῖς ὀσμαῖς τῶν λαγωῶν αἱ κύνες χαίρουσιν ἀλλὰ τῇ βρώσει, τὴν δʼ αἴσθησιν ἡ ὀσμὴ ἐποίησεν·
The lion does not care about the lowing of the ox, but about devouring it, though the lowing tells him that the ox is near, and consequently he appears to take pleasure in the sound. Similarly he is not pleased by the sight of “or stag or mountain goat,” but by the prospect of a meal. Temperance and Profligacy are therefore concerned with those pleasures which man shares with the lower animals, and which consequently appear slavish and bestial. These are the pleasures of touch and taste. But even taste appears to play but a small part, if any, in Temperance. For taste is concerned with discriminating flavors, as is done by wine-tasters, and cooks preparing savory dishes; but it is not exactly the flavors that give pleasure, or at all events not to the profligate: it is actually enjoying the object that is pleasant, and this is done solely through the sense of touch, alike in eating and drinking and in what are called the pleasures of sex. This is why a certain gourmand wished that his throat might be longer than a crane’s, showing that his pleasure lay in the sensation of contact.
οὐδʼ ὁ λέων τῇ φωνῇ τοῦ βοὸς ἀλλὰ τῇ ἐδωδῇ· ὅτι δʼ ἐγγύς ἐστι, διὰ τῆς φωνῆς ᾔσθετο, καὶ χαίρειν δὴ ταύτῃ φαίνεται· ὁμοίως δʼ οὐδʼ ἰδὼν ἢ [εὑρὼν] ἔλαφον ἢ ἄγριον αἶγα, ἀλλʼ ὅτι βορὰν ἕξει. περὶ τὰς τοιαύτας δʼ ἡδονὰς ἡ σωφροσύνη καὶ ἡ ἀκολασία ἐστὶν ὧν καὶ τὰ λοιπὰ ζῷα κοινωνεῖ, ὅθεν ἀνδραποδώδεις καὶ θηριώδεις φαίνονται· αὗται δʼ εἰσὶν ἁφὴ καὶ γεῦσις. φαίνονται δὲ καὶ τῇ γεύσει ἐπὶ μικρὸν ἢ οὐθὲν χρῆσθαι· τῆς γὰρ γεύσεώς ἐστιν ἡ κρίσις τῶν χυμῶν, ὅπερ ποιοῦσιν οἱ τοὺς οἴνους δοκιμάζοντες καὶ τὰ ὄψα ἀρτύοντες· οὐ πάνυ δὲ χαίρουσι τούτοις, ἢ οὐχ οἵ γε ἀκόλαστοι, ἀλλὰ τῇ ἀπολαύσει, ἣ γίνεται πᾶσα διʼ ἁφῆς καὶ ἐν σιτίοις καὶ ἐν ποτοῖς καὶ τοῖς ἀφροδισίοις λεγομένοις. διὸ καὶ ηὔξατό τις ὀψοφάγος ὢν τὸν φάρυγγα αὑτῷ μακρότερον γεράνου γενέσθαι, ὡς ἡδόμενος τῇ ἁφῇ.
Hence the sense to which Profligacy is related is the most universal of the senses; and there appears to be good ground for the disrepute in which it is held, because it belongs to us not as human beings but as animals. Therefore it is bestial to revel in such pleasures, and to like them better than any others. We do not refer to the most refined of the pleasures of touch, such as the enjoyment of friction and warm baths in the gymnasia; the tactual pleasures of the profligate have to do with certain parts only, not with the whole of the body. Desires seem to be of two kinds, one common to all men, the other peculiar to special peoples, and adventitious. For instance, the desire for food is natural, since everyone desires solid or liquid nourishment, and sometimes both, when in need of them; and also sexual intercourse, as Homer says, when young and lusty. But not everybody desires this or that particular sort of nourishment, any more than everyone desires the same particular portion of food; hence a taste for this or that sort of food seems to be an individual peculiarity. Not but what there is also something natural in such tastes; for different things are pleasant to different people, and there are some special delicacies which all men like better than ordinary food. In the case of the natural desires, then, few men err, and in one way only, that of excess in quantity; for to eat or drink to repletion of ordinary food and drink is to exceed what is natural in amount, since the natural desire is only to satisfy one’s wants. Hence people who over-eat are called “mad-bellies,” meaning that they fill that organ beyond the right measure; it is persons of especially slavish nature that are liable to this form of excess.
κοινοτάτη δὴ τῶν αἰσθήσεων καθʼ ἣν ἡ ἀκολασία· καὶ δόξειεν ἂν δικαίως ἐπονείδιστος εἶναι, ὅτι οὐχ ᾗ ἄνθρωποί ἐσμεν ὑπάρχει, ἀλλʼ ᾗ ζῷα. τὸ δὴ τοιούτοις χαίρειν καὶ μάλιστα ἀγαπᾶν θηριῶδες. καὶ γὰρ αἱ ἐλευθεριώταται τῶν διὰ τῆς ἁφῆς ἡδονῶν ἀφῄρηνται, οἷον αἱ ἐν τοῖς γυμνασίοις διὰ τρίψεως καὶ τῆς θερμασίας γινόμεναι· οὐ γὰρ περὶ πᾶν τὸ σῶμα ἡ τοῦ ἀκολάστου ἁφή, ἀλλὰ περί τινα μέρη. τῶν δʼ ἐπιθυμιῶν αἳ μὲν κοιναὶ δοκοῦσιν εἶναι, αἳ δʼ ἴδιοι καὶ ἐπίθετοι· οἷον ἡ μὲν τῆς τροφῆς φυσική· πᾶς γὰρ ἐπιθυμεῖ ὁ ἐνδεὴς ξηρᾶς ἢ ὑγρᾶς τροφῆς, ὁτὲ δὲ ἀμφοῖν, καὶ εὐνῆς, φησὶν Ὅμηρος, ὁ νέος καὶ ἀκμάζων· τὸ δὲ τοιᾶσδε ἢ τοιᾶσδε, οὐκέτι πᾶς, οὐδὲ τῶν αὐτῶν. διὸ φαίνεται ἡμέτερον εἶναι. οὐ μὴν ἀλλʼ ἔχει γέ τι καὶ φυσικόν· ἕτερα γὰρ ἑτέροις ἐστὶν ἡδέα, καὶ ἔνια πᾶσιν ἡδίω τῶν τυχόντων. ἐν μὲν οὖν ταῖς φυσικαῖς ἐπιθυμίαις ὀλίγοι ἁμαρτάνουσι καὶ ἐφʼ ἕν, ἐπὶ τὸ πλεῖον· τὸ γὰρ ἐσθίειν τὰ τυχόντα ἢ πίνειν ἕως ἂν ὑπερπλησθῇ, ὑπερβάλλειν ἐστὶ τὸ κατὰ φύσιν τῷ πλήθει· ἀναπλήρωσις γὰρ τῆς ἐνδείας ἡ φυσικὴ ἐπιθυμία. διὸ λέγονται οὗτοι γαστρίμαργοι, ὡς παρὰ τὸ δέον πληροῦντες αὐτήν.
But in regard to the pleasures peculiar to particular people, many men err, and err in many ways. For when people are said to be “very fond of” so-and-so, it is either because they like things that it is not right to like, or like them more than most people do, or like them in a wrong manner; and the profligate exceed in all these ways. For they like some things that are wrong, and indeed abominable, and any such things that it is right to like they like more than is right, and more than most people. It is clear then that excess in relation to pleasures is Profligacy, and that it is blameworthy. As regards pains on the other hand, it is not with Temperance as it is with Courage: a man is not termed temperate for enduring pain and profligate for not enduring it, but profligate for feeling more pain than is right when he fails to get pleasures (in his case pleasure actually causing pain), and temperate for not feeling pain at the absence of pleasure [or at abstaining from it].
τοιοῦτοι δὲ γίνονται οἱ λίαν ἀνδραποδώδεις. περὶ δὲ τὰς ἰδίας τῶν ἡδονῶν πολλοὶ καὶ πολλαχῶς ἁμαρτάνουσιν. τῶν γὰρ φιλοτοιούτων λεγομένων ἢ τῷ χαίρειν οἷς μὴ δεῖ, ἢ τῷ μᾶλλον ἢ ὡς οἱ πολλοί, ἢ μὴ ὡς δεῖ, κατὰ πάντα δʼ οἱ ἀκόλαστοι ὑπερβάλλουσιν· καὶ γὰρ χαίρουσιν ἐνίοις οἷς οὐ δεῖ (μισητὰ γάρ), καὶ εἴ τισι δεῖ χαίρειν τῶν τοιούτων, μᾶλλον ἢ δεῖ καὶ ἢ ὡς οἱ πολλοὶ χαίρουσιν. ἡ μὲν οὖν περὶ τὰς ἡδονὰς ὑπερβολὴ ὅτι ἀκολασία καὶ ψεκτόν, δῆλον· περὶ δὲ τὰς λύπας οὐχ ὥσπερ ἐπὶ τῆς ἀνδρείας τῷ ὑπομένειν λέγεται σώφρων οὐδʼ ἀκόλαστος τῷ μή, ἀλλʼ ὁ μὲν ἀκόλαστος τῷ λυπεῖσθαι μᾶλλον ἢ δεῖ ὅτι τῶν ἡδέων οὐ τυγχάνει (καὶ τὴν λύπην δὲ ποιεῖ αὐτῷ ἡ ἡδονή), ὁ δὲ σώφρων τῷ μὴ λυπεῖσθαι τῇ ἀπουσίᾳ καὶ τῷ ἀπέχεσθαι τοῦ ἡδέος.
The profligate therefore desires all pleasures, or those that are the most pleasant, and is led by his desire to pursue these in preference to everything else. He consequently feels pain not only when he fails to get them, but also from his desire for them, since desire is accompanied by pain; paradoxical though it seems that pain should be caused by pleasure. Men erring on the side of deficiency as regards pleasures, and taking less than a proper amount of enjoyment in them, scarcely occur; such insensibility is not human. Indeed, even the lower animals discriminate in food, and like some kinds and not others; and if there be a creature that finds nothing pleasant, and sees no difference between one thing and another, it must be very far removed from humanity. As men of this type scarcely occur, we have no special name for them. The temperate man keeps a middle course in these matters. He takes no pleasure at all in the things that the profligate enjoys most, on the contrary, he positively dislikes them; nor in general does he find pleasure in wrong things, nor excessive pleasure in anything of this sort; nor does he feel pain or desire when they are lacking, or only in a moderate degree, not more than is right, nor at the wrong time, et cetera. But such pleasures as conduce to health and fitness he will try to obtain in a moderate and right degree; as also other pleasures so far as they are not detrimental to health and fitness, and not ignoble, nor beyond his means. The man who exceeds these limits cares more for such pleasures than they are worth.
ὁ μὲν οὖν ἀκόλαστος ἐπιθυμεῖ τῶν ἡδέων πάντων ἢ τῶν μάλιστα, καὶ ἄγεται ὑπὸ τῆς ἐπιθυμίας ὥστε ἀντὶ τῶν ἄλλων ταῦθʼ αἱρεῖσθαι· διὸ καὶ λυπεῖται καὶ ἀποτυγχάνων καὶ ἐπιθυμῶν· μετὰ λύπης γὰρ ἡ ἐπιθυμία· ἀτόπῳ δʼ ἔοικε τὸ διʼ ἡδονὴν λυπεῖσθαι. ἐλλείποντες δὲ τὰ περὶ τὰς ἡδονὰς καὶ ἧττον ἢ δεῖ χαίροντες οὐ πάνυ γίνονται· οὐ γὰρ ἀνθρωπική ἐστιν ἡ τοιαύτη ἀναισθησία· καὶ γὰρ τὰ λοιπὰ ζῷα διακρίνει τὰ βρώματα, καὶ τοῖς μὲν χαίρει τοῖς δʼ οὔ· εἰ δέ τῳ μηδέν ἐστιν ἡδὺ μηδὲ διαφέρει ἕτερον ἑτέρου, πόρρω ἂν εἴη τοῦ ἄνθρωπος εἶναι· οὐ τέτευχε δʼ ὁ τοιοῦτος ὀνόματος διὰ τὸ μὴ πάνυ γίνεσθαι. ὁ δὲ σώφρων μέσως μὲν περὶ ταῦτʼ ἔχει· οὔτε γὰρ ἥδεται οἷς μάλιστα ὁ ἀκόλαστος, ἀλλὰ μᾶλλον δυσχεραίνει, οὐδʼ ὅλως οἷς μὴ δεῖ οὐδὲ σφόδρα τοιούτῳ οὐδενί, οὔτʼ ἀπόντων λυπεῖται οὐδʼ ἐπιθυμεῖ, ἢ μετρίως, οὐδὲ μᾶλλον ἢ δεῖ, οὐδʼ ὅτε μὴ δεῖ, οὐδʼ ὅλως τῶν τοιούτων οὐδέν· ὅσα δὲ πρὸς ὑγίειάν ἐστιν ἢ πρὸς εὐεξίαν ἡδέα ὄντα, τούτων ὀρέξεται μετρίως καὶ ὡς δεῖ, καὶ τῶν ἄλλων ἡδέων μὴ ἐμποδίων τούτοις ὄντων ἢ παρὰ τὸ καλὸν ἢ ὑπὲρ τὴν οὐσίαν. ὁ γὰρ οὕτως ἔχων μᾶλλον ἀγαπᾷ τὰς τοιαύτας ἡδονὰς τῆς ἀξίας·
Not so the temperate man; he only cares for them as right principle enjoins. Profligacy seems to be more voluntary than Cowardice. For the former is caused by pleasure, the latter by pain, and pleasure is a thing we choose, pain a thing we avoid. Also pain makes us beside ourselves: it destroys the sufferer’s nature; whereas pleasure has no such effect. Therefore Profligacy is the more voluntary vice. And consequently it is the more reprehensible; since moreover it is easier to train oneself to resist the temptations of pleasure, because these occur frequently in life, and to practise resistance to them involves no danger, whereas the reverse is the case with the objects of fear. On the other hand, the possession of a cowardly character would seem to be more voluntary than particular manifestations of cowardice: for cowardliness in itself is not painful, but particular accesses of cowardice are so painful as to make a man beside himself, and cause him to throw away his arms or otherwise behave in an unseemly manner; so that cowardly actions actually seem to be done under compulsion. But with the profligate on the contrary the particular acts are voluntary, for they are done with desire and appetite, but the character in general is less so, since no one desires to be a profligate. The word Profligacy or wantonness we also apply to the naughtiness of children, which has some resemblance to the licentiousness of adults.
ὁ δὲ σώφρων οὐ τοιοῦτος, ἀλλʼ ὡς ὁ ὀρθὸς λόγος. ἑκουσίῳ δὲ μᾶλλον ἔοικεν ἡ ἀκολασία τῆς δειλίας. ἣ μὲν γὰρ διʼ ἡδονήν, ἣ δὲ διὰ λύπην, ὧν τὸ μὲν αἱρετόν, τὸ δὲ φευκτόν· καὶ ἡ μὲν λύπη ἐξίστησι καὶ φθείρει τὴν τοῦ ἔχοντος φύσιν, ἡ δὲ ἡδονὴ οὐδὲν τοιοῦτο ποιεῖ. μᾶλλον δὴ ἑκούσιον. διὸ καὶ ἐπονειδιστότερον· καὶ γὰρ ἐθισθῆναι ῥᾷον πρὸς αὐτά· πολλὰ γὰρ ἐν τῷ βίῳ τὰ τοιαῦτα, καὶ οἱ ἐθισμοὶ ἀκίνδυνοι, ἐπὶ δὲ τῶν φοβερῶν ἀνάπαλιν. δόξειε δʼ ἂν οὐχ ὁμοίως ἑκούσιον ἡ δειλία εἶναι τοῖς καθʼ ἕκαστον· αὐτὴ μὲν γὰρ ἄλυπος, ταῦτα δὲ διὰ λύπην ἐξίστησιν, ὥστε καὶ τὰ ὅπλα ῥιπτεῖν καὶ τἆλλα ἀσχημονεῖν· διὸ καὶ δοκεῖ βίαια εἶναι. τῷ δʼ ἀκολάστῳ ἀνάπαλιν τὰ μὲν καθʼ ἕκαστα ἑκούσια (ἐπιθυμοῦντι γὰρ καὶ ὀρεγομένῳ), τὸ δʼ ὅλον ἧττον· οὐθεὶς γὰρ ἐπιθυμεῖ ἀκόλαστος εἶναι. τὸ δʼ ὄνομα τῆς ἀκολασίας καὶ ἐπὶ τὰς παιδικὰς ἁμαρτίας φέρομεν·
Which of the two takes its name from the other is of no importance for the present enquiry, but it would seem clear that the state which comes later in life must be named from the one which comes earlier. The metaphor appears apt enough, since it is that which desires what is disgraceful and whose appetites grow apace that needs chastisement or pruning, and this description applies in the fullest degree to desire, as it does to the child. For children, like profligates, live at the prompting of desire; and the appetite for pleasure is strongest in childhood, so that if it be not disciplined and made obedient to authority, it will make great headway. In an irrational being the appetite for pleasure is insatiable and undiscriminating, and the innate tendency is fostered by active gratification; indeed, if such gratification be great and intense it actually overpowers the reason. Hence our indulgences should be moderate and few, and never opposed to principle— this is what we mean by “well-disciplined” and “chastened”—; and the appetitive part of us should be ruled by principle, just as a boy should live in obedience to his tutor. Hence in the temperate man the appetitive element must be in harmony with principle. For (1) the aim of both Temperance and principle is that which is noble; and (2) the temperate man desires the right thing in the right way at the right time, which is what principle ordains. Let this then be our account of Temperance.
ἔχουσι γάρ τινα ὁμοιότητα. πότερον δʼ ἀπὸ ποτέρου καλεῖται, οὐθὲν πρὸς τὰ νῦν διαφέρει, δῆλον δʼ ὅτι τὸ ὕστερον ἀπὸ τοῦ προτέρου. οὐ κακῶς δʼ ἔοικε μετενηνέχθαι· κεκολάσθαι γὰρ δεῖ τὸ τῶν αἰσχρῶν ὀρεγόμενον καὶ πολλὴν αὔξησιν ἔχον, τοιοῦτον δὲ μάλιστα ἡ ἐπιθυμία καὶ ὁ παῖς· κατʼ ἐπιθυμίαν γὰρ ζῶσι καὶ τὰ παιδία, καὶ μάλιστα ἐν τούτοις ἡ τοῦ ἡδέος ὄρεξις. εἰ οὖν μὴ ἔσται εὐπειθὲς καὶ ὑπὸ τὸ ἄρχον, ἐπὶ πολὺ ἥξει· ἄπληστος γὰρ ἡ τοῦ ἡδέος ὄρεξις καὶ πανταχόθεν τῷ ἀνοήτῳ, καὶ ἡ τῆς ἐπιθυμίας ἐνέργεια αὔξει τὸ συγγενές, κἂν μεγάλαι καὶ σφοδραὶ ὦσι, καὶ τὸν λογισμὸν ἐκκρούουσιν. διὸ δεῖ μετρίας εἶναι αὐτὰς καὶ ὀλίγας, καὶ τῷ λόγῳ μηθὲν ἐναντιοῦσθαι—τὸ δὲ τοιοῦτον εὐπειθὲς λέγομεν καὶ κεκολασμένον—ὥσπερ δὲ τὸν παῖδα δεῖ κατὰ τὸ πρόσταγμα τοῦ παιδαγωγοῦ ζῆν, οὕτω καὶ τὸ ἐπιθυμητικὸν κατὰ τὸν λόγον. διὸ δεῖ τοῦ σώφρονος τὸ ἐπιθυμητικὸν συμφωνεῖν τῷ λόγῳ· σκοπὸς γὰρ ἀμφοῖν τὸ καλόν, καὶ ἐπιθυμεῖ ὁ σώφρων ὧν δεῖ καὶ ὡς δεῖ καὶ ὅτε· οὕτω δὲ τάττει καὶ ὁ λόγος. ταῦτʼ οὖν ἡμῖν εἰρήσθω περὶ σωφροσύνης.