SECTION XVIII.

In carrying out his system into details Aristotle treats first the ethical virtues, and as their chief representatives: courage, temperateness, liberality, magnanimity (from which the love of honor is, as of a lower quality, to be distinguished), the proper control of temper, and, as predominantly social virtues: amiability, truthfulness, readiness in good-natured wit, shame, but especially justness and, as closely-related therewith, fairness or equity. As intellectual or thought-virtues are examined, more largely, prudence and wisdom; and their significancy is more closely defined than in Socrates and Plato. As considered under another phase, namely, in respect to the degree of the moral power virtualizing itself in the doing of the good, the moral character is distinguished, into virtuousness in the narrower sense, into temperateness, and into heroic or divine virtue.

The carrying-out of the ethical matter proper, though rich in suggestive thoughts and observations, is devoid of a general scientific development from one central principle; nor do we find as yet any strict organic classification. The Platonic division of the virtues (§ 14), though made the basis, is neither strictly observed nor further developed. Differing from Plato, Aristotle does not first discuss wisdom as the root of all the other virtues, but, on the contrary, manliness or courage (ἀνδρία) which stands mid-way between fool-hardy daring and cowardice. 104It relates not to all the evils that are to be assailed, but essentially to death; and also not to every mortal danger, but more especially to the most honorable of these dangers, danger upon the battle-field, and besides also to mortal danger by sea and in sickness (Nic., iii, 9-12). This limitation, though explainable from the warlike national character, is not based in the moral idea; and for courage in the full sense of the word in the face of all evils, Aristotle finds no place at all in his system of virtue. The motive to courage is not the thought of an eternal crown,—for death is for the virtuous man the most fearful of all evils, for precisely for him life has the greatest worth,—but this motive is only a delight in duty and in the beautiful (Nic., iii, 12).—The second virtue is temperateness or moderation (σωφροσύνη), which consists in the observance of the right mean in regard to sensuous pleasure, even as, on the other hand, courage relates to evil, that is, pain. The extending of this virtue to other than the sensuous, and that too the lowest sensuous feelings of taste and of sensibility, is expressly disallowed; and hence there remain moral phenomena, both virtues and vices, which find no place whatever in the classes of virtue admitted by Aristotle. As to the question, by what rule the proper measure is to be judged, we are not answered; virtue is simply placed in the middle between the immoderation which surrenders itself passionately to sensuous pleasure, and which sinks man to the brute, and an entire desirelessness or insensibility to sensuous pleasure, which, however, only rarely or in fact strictly speaking never exists,—for then man would be no longer human (Nic., iii, 13-15); in which case the finding of the virtuous mean between the two faults would be a rather difficult matter.—Liberality or generosity, as the third virtue, is the observance of the middle-way in the use of property. It gives cheerfully, out of delight in the beauty of the action, but only to such as deserve it; that it rests on love is not stated. As especially important, is extensively discussed, liberality for public and generally useful ends, for theatrical entertainments, for popular diversions, for the feasting of the collective citizenship, for the outfitting of war-ships, and for the keeping up of a state of luxury in the interest of the dignity of the person,—the virtue of μεγαλοπρέπεια (Nic., iv, 1-6). Of the moral dangers 105of riches for the moral disposition itself, aside from the two errors of prodigality and niggardliness, nothing is said; on the contrary, riches is regarded as a high and much to be desired good.—Magnanimity (μεγαλοψυχία) belongs only to men of high gifts, and is, as opposed to empty pretense, on the one hand, and to self-disparaging pusillanimousness, on the other, the proper respecting of self, the moral pride of the great man,—while the proper self-respect of the ordinary person is not magnanimity, but only modesty; the former virtue stands higher than the latter. Only he can be magnanimous who is adorned with all the virtues, that is, the truly great man; and he puts this virtue into practice, in that he strives after true honor, that is, after the esteem of the great and noble, as the highest of external goods, while he disdains the honor and reproach which come from unimportant men. But proper magnanimity is only possible when, with the inner virtue-merit there is associated also an outwardly happy and eminent condition, such as rich possessions, a highborn family, power, etc., for this brings honor; hence the magnanimous man will seek, though not primarily and chiefly, after these things, not so much for their own sake, as simply for the honor associated with them. In less great souls the virtue of magnanimity gives place to the love of honor which looks only to inferior degrees of honor, and which holds the mean between immoderate ambition and pusillanimity (Nic., iv, 7-10).—The virtue of equanimity or gentleness, (πραότης) occupies the mean between irascibility and phlegmatic insensibility, and hence consists in the proper tempering of anger, and is practically of difficult observance. Not to indulge in anger at all is stolidity, and not to defend one’s self against offenses is dishonorable and cowardly. It is advisable not to repress wrath, but to let it come to expression; the indulging of vengeance stills wrath. Aristotle regards revenge as a something entirely legitimate, and simply warns against over-indulgence. More specific limitations of this dangerous virtue he regards as impracticable, holding that feeling decides this best in each particular case, and that minor deviations from the right mean are here not to be censured (Nic., iv, 11).

Without any strict logical connection, Aristotle now passes 106to treat of the social virtues. Between the vices of a fawning seeking for approbation and a yielding to the wishes of every one, on the one hand, and an unsocial abruptness, on the other, stands the virtue of friendly and polite amiability, a virtue which (in distinction from personal love) relates not to definite loved persons, but to all with whom we come into association, and does not rest on love (Nic., iv, 12). Between vain-boastfulness and ironical self-disparagement, lies the virtue of truthfulness of discourse, especially in relation to the speaker himself, in other words, straightforwardness and honesty. But inasmuch as too strong self-praise is more offensive to others than self-disparagement, hence it is advisable to speak rather too humbly than too highly of one’s self (Nic., iv, 13). A third social virtue relates to social intercourse and jesting, and is, in contrast to buffoonery and excessive irony, on the one hand, and sardonic moroseness on the other, cheerful facetiousness and gracious aptness in wit (εὐτραπελία) (Nic., iv, 14; comp. Eud., iii, 7). Aristotle speaks here merely incidentally of shame, that is, the fear of disgrace, which is indeed not per se a virtue, but only an instinct; it becomes a virtue only under special circumstances, namely, when a mature person has really done something of which he must feel ashamed, and also in youth, because here the passions are violent, and shame is a check against them. The morally matured man, however, is never to have occasion to feel ashamed, for he is not by any means to think of himself as being so constituted as to be capable of doing anything shameful (Nic., iv, 15). Of the true moral significancy of shame, which is so suggestively indicated in Gen. iii, 7, Aristotle has no conception.

The most important social virtue, the one which in fact includes all the others in so far as they relate to our conduct toward others, is justness, which consists in respecting the laws of the State and the rights of others, so that every man is treated as he deserves and as he has a right to claim. In a narrower sense justness relates only to the “mine” and the “thine,” to property and earnings. The principle of the just mean is here of difficult application, as there is manifestly no immoral form of conduct which can contain too great an observance of the rights of others (Nic. v, 1-14.)

Related to justness, and belonging thereto in the wider sense of the word, is the subordinate virtue of equitableness or fairness. It accomplishes—in contrast to the rigid observance of the letter of the civil law—true justness outside of the requirements of the law, which can in fact only express the general, and cannot apply to every individual case; hence it is an improving and perfecting of the law, in that in the interest of justness one does not in certain cases insist on a right which the outward law concedes (Nic., v, 15). Against his own self man cannot, properly speaking, do injustice; even suicide, as being voluntary, is not an injustice to one’s self, but only to the State.

In respect to the intellectual or thought-virtues, of which only prudence and wisdom are more especially treated (Nic., vi, 1-13), the thought of the middle-way is of course no longer applicable; they do not themselves observe the just mean, rather is it they themselves that discover it. Prudence or sensibleness (φρόνησις, more than prudence as the word is usually taken, but also not synonymous with reasonableness, as Brandis would have it) is the spiritual facility of making in each particular case suitable practical decisions in regard to what is good or evil for the actor. Wisdom (σοφία) is of a higher character, and given to prudence its right basis. It is the proper knowledge of the ultimate grounds of true knowledge, and the deriving of the same from these grounds, and hence refers to the immutable, whereas prudence has to do with the mutable and transitory; wisdom relates to the universally valid; prudence, to that which is befitting for the individual; and hence prudence is the specific practical application of wisdom, which latter expresses rather the moral idea per se. Hence prudence or sensibleness is the applying of moral wisdom in the ethical virtues. Wisdom and prudence do not constitute the whole of virtue itself, as Socrates affirms, but they are, as ὀρθός λογός, the necessary presupposition of all the other virtues.

Aristotle passes now to another manner of considering the moral bearing, namely, not, as thus far, in reference to its material quality, but in reference to the degree of moral energy therein virtualized. Over against the threefold gradation of the immoral that is to be distinguished in this respect, 108namely, viciousness, incontinence, and brutality,—wherein the moral consciousness and the moral will are either badly constituted or feeble, or entirely wanting,—stands the threefold gradation of the moral, namely, virtuousness in the narrower sense, continence, and heroic or divine virtue; the latter makes man entirely like the gods, but is attained to only seldom; but equally seldom is also the opposite extreme, brutality. Incontinence is a weakness of the moral will, for the person knows that his desires are evil, nevertheless he follows them, and hence sins (what Socrates declares as impossible) consciously and from passionateness. On the contrary, he who is continent or firm in character acts constantly in harmony with his rational insight. The feeble and hesitative manner in which Aristotle attempts to answer the perplexing questions which present themselves in this connection, indicates very clearly, how little knowledge he has of the perversity of a corrupted heart (Nic., vii, 1-7). While Socrates covers the majority of sins with ignorance and error, and thus palliates their guilt, Aristotle, who recognizes the manifold contradiction between knowledge and volition, goes so far in the other direction, as to admit inborn faults and passions, and even inborn unnatural vices, and to find therein a degree of excuse for the deviating of those who are thus afflicted, from better knowledge; “the fact of having such proclivities, lies outside of the sphere of the morally evil;” and when man is dominated by such evil proclivities, it is only in an improper sense that his conduct is to be called immoral (Nic., vii, 6). How such an innateness of evil proclivities is to be explained1 we are not informed. The proclivity to anger especially is to be judged very mildly,—there. lies in it even something rational, as in contrast to the sensuous desires, and at all events no presumption; and its justification lies in its universal prevalence. In general it is excusable to follow one’s natural proclivities, and this all the more so the more they are universal (Nic., vii, 7). The incontinent are not properly speaking vicious, but only similar to the vicious, and for the reason that in them there is no evil purpose (Nic.. vii, 9.)

After an extended consideration of friendship as a special field of the moral activity, Aristotle concludes with an extensive 109discussion of pleasure (ἡδονή) and well-being (ευδαιμονία) as results of virtuous conduct. Pleasure is not identical with the good,—is not the highest good, but many kinds of pleasure are goods, and hence to be aimed at, while others are not so. Pleasure is the result of a power-exertion in coming to its goal, and hence is an attendant of life-development per se; now, according as this power-exertion is good or evil, so is also the pleasure attending it, and only the pleasure which is connected with an exercise of virtue is true pleasure (Nic., x, 1-5). Well-being is not a mere condition, but is essentially life-activity, and indeed such a life-activity as is not a purposeless play, but a rational practicing of virtue. Now as cognition is the highest spiritual exertion of power, hence the acquiring of the knowledge of wisdom is coincident with the highest well-being; all other activity is less constant and permanent, less free and independent,—rests less upon itself and has its end less within itself. Hence the practically-acting life stands only in secondary importance, as in fact also the life and the happiness of the gods, or of God, consists not in such an outward-working activity, but only in reflection. In third importance stand the outward goods of fortune: health, riches, etc. Now, though such goods are indeed also necessary to well-being, still they are needed only in a moderate degree, and the sage can be happy even with relatively small goods of fortune; for he who develops and perfects the thinking spirit with great zeal is the most beloved of the gods, and is the happiest, for he is most like the gods (Nic., x, 6-9). Herein this ethical system returns to its starting-point, though we cannot say that this return results from a natural and organic development. Indeed, the fact that wellbeing is indicated as the highest good, at the outset of the ethical development, and that now it presents itself in the end as the result of the moral life-activity, would seem to present an excellently rounded development-course of the system; but Aristotle essentially disturbs this organic development of his thoughts by his preference (surprising, in view of his previous discussions) of the contemplative life to the outwardly-active life, and for the assumed reason that the former, as being the truly divine life, far transcends the latter; and when he is at the very point of making the transition 110from merely individual morality into the consideration of the moral community-life,—which rests quite predominantly on the practically-working activity of all the individuals and is primarily the result thereof,—he throws this activity with a strange disdain into the background, behind the purely intellectual activity of the unsocial individual spirit. In this connection Plato is at least more consequential, in that he by no means directs the philosopher to the merely contemplative life, but concedes to him political domination as his peculiar right and his highest calling. It is evidently no very virtue-encouraging thought, that the highest well-being should be one-sidedly placed in an activity, for which only the fewest virtues are requisite.