Book X

AFTER these things perhaps it follows that we should discuss pleasure; for this appears to be especially familiar and allied to our race. Hence those who educate youth regulate them by pleasure and pain, as by a rud-

' Aristotle in the 7th book considered pleasure so far as it is the matter of continence; but in this book he considers it so far as it is the companion of felicity. Hence it appears that those critics were egregiously mistaken, who fancied that what is said concerning pleasure near the end of the 7th book is spurious. But such mistakes with mere verbalists, are by no means wonderful.

der. But it appears to be a thing of the greatest consequence with respect to the virtue of manners to rejoice in those things in which it is proper to rejoice, and to hate those things which it is proper to hate. For these things extend through the whole of life, and have a preponderation and power towards virtue, and a happy life; since things which are delectable, are indeed the objects of deliberate choice, but those that are painful are avoided. It seems, however, that things of this kind are by no means to be passed over in silence, especially since they possess an abundant ambiguity. For some, indeed, say that good itself is pleasure, but others on the contrary assert that pleasure is a very bad thing; the former, indeed, being perhaps persuaded that it is so; but the latter thinking that it will be more beneficial to our life to evince that pleasure ranks among bad things, even though it should not. For the multitude tend to it, and are subservient to pleasures. Hence, say they, it is necessary to lead them to the pursuit of the contrary to pleasure; for thus they may arrive at the medium. Perhaps, however, this is not well said. For words respecting things which pertain to passions and actions, are less credible than deeds. When, therefore, they are discordant with the perceptions of sense, being despised they also subvert the truth. For he who blames pleasure, if he is at any time seen to desire it, seems to incline towards it, as if every pleasure was of this attractive nature; for to distinguish [one pleasure from another,] is not the province of the multitude. True assertions, therefore, appear not only to be most useful with respect to knowledge, but also with respect to life; for they are believed when they accord with deeds. Hence they exhort those who understand them to live conformably to them. Of things of this

kind, therefore, thus much may suffice. Let us now discuss the assertions of others concerning pleasure.

Eudoxus, therefore, thought that pleasure was good itself, because all animals are seen to desire it, both such as are rational and such as are irrational. But in all things the eligible is good, and that which is especially eligible is the best of things. And because all things tend to the same thing, it is an indication that the object to which they tend, is to all things that which is most excellent. For every thing discovers that which is good to it, in the same manner as it discovers nutriment. Hence that which is good to all things, and which all things desire, is good itself. These arguments, however, are rendered credible, more through the virtuous manners of their author than through themselves; for it appears that he was a remarkably temperate man. It does not seem, therefore, that he made these assertions as the friend of pleasure, but because he believed them to be true. It likewise appeared to him to be no less evident that pleasure is good itself, from the contrary. For pain is of itself avoided by all animals ; and in a similar manner, the contrary to pain is eligible to all Arist. VOL. II. z

stfumak. But that is especially eligible, which we choose not on account of something else, nor for the sake of another thing. It is, however, acknowledged that pleasure is a thing of this kind ; for no one asks another person what the final cause is why he is delighted ? as if pleasure were a thing eligible of itself, and which renders the good to which it is added more eligible ; such, for instance, as to act justly and temperately. The good, therefore, is itself increased by itself. This argument, therefore, evinces that pleasure ranks among the number of goods, and that it is not more good than another good. For every good in conjunction with another good, is more eligible than when it is alone. Plato also subverts an argument of this kind, that pleasure is not good itself ; for he says* that a delectable life, in conjunction with wisdom, is more eligible than without it. But if the mixed life is better [than a life of pleasure alone,] pleasure will not be good itself ; for good. itself will not become more eligible by any thing being added to it. It is evident, however, that neither will any thing else be good itself, which in conjunction with something which is of itself good, becomes more eligible. What,

What is here asserted by Aristotle, apparently in opposition to the doctrine of Plato in the Philebus, may be easily solved, by directing our attention, with Proclus, to the three orders of good which are employed by Plato as so many steps in ascending to the supreme good. These three orders are, that good which is imparticipable and superessential ; that which is imparticipable and essential ; and that which is essential and participable. Of these, the last is such as our nature contains : the good which ranks among forms or ideas is essential ; and that which is beyond forms is superessential. Or we may say, that the good which subsists in us may be considered as a habit, in consequence of its subsisting in a

therefore, is the thing of this kind, of which we also participate? For a thing of this kind is the object of investigation. Those, however, who deny that it is good which all beings desire, say nothing to the purpose ; for we say that the thing which appears to all beings to exist, does exist. But he who subverts this belief, does not assert that which is very much more credible. For if they denied that to be good which is desired by beings

subject ; the next to this ranks as essence, and a part of essence, I mean the good which subsists among forms ; and the last ranks as that which is neither a habit nor a part. When, therefore, Socrates, in the Republic, says, "That to the multitude pleasure seems to be the good, and to the more elegant it seems to be prudence," he signifies that good which is resident in our nature, and which from its being an impression of the ineffable principle of things, may be called the summit or flower of our essence. And when he also says that the idea of the good is the greatest discipline, which renders both such things as are just, and other things which employ it, useful and profitable, and that we do not sufficiently know it ; — these assertions accord with the good which is in us, with that which is in forms, and with that which is understood to be prior to all things. For the idea of the good signifies a participated form, a separate intelligible, and that which has a separate subsistence prior to intelligibles ; since the term idea, according to Plato, indicates that object of desire which is established prior to all things, i.e. prior to all things belonging to a certain series. Thus, for instance, the good in our nature is prior to every thing else pertaining to the soul ; the good which ranks among forms is prior to every thing which is the source of essential perfection ; and the good which reigns in the intelligible world is prior to every series, and to all things.

In consequence of this triple meaning, therefore, of the term the good, the objections of Aristotle are made as if Plato, in what he says of good in the Philebus, directed his attention to the supreme good, the principle of all things, and not to that good which is resident in our nature, and is derived from the supreme good.

destitute of intellect, there would be some truth in what they say ; but if they also deny that to be good which beings endued with prudence and wisdom desire, how will they say any thing which can be admitted ? Perhaps also, even in bad men there is a certain natural good, which transcends their depravity, and which aspires after its proper good. Neither does that which is asserted of the contrary to pleasure appear to be well said. For it does not follow, say they, that if pain is an evil, pleasure is good ; since evil is opposed to evil, and both good and evil are opposed to that which is neither. And these things, indeed, are asserted by them not badly, yet they are not true when applied to the present subject. For if both pleasure and pain were bad, it would be requisite that both should be avoided; but if neither is bad, neither is to be avoided, or each is similarly to be avoided. But now, indeed, it appears that pain is avoided as an evil, and that pleasure is chosen as a good. In this manner, therefore, they are opposed to each other.

Conformably to this, also, Plato in his Laws says, "That in the souls of certain vicious persons, there is something divine, and a power of distinguishing well."

Neither does it follow that if pleasure is not among the number of qualities, it is not on this account good ; for neither are the energies of virtue qualities, nor is felicity a quality. They say, therefore, that good is definite, but that pleasure is indefinite, because it receives the more and the less. Hence, if they form this judgment from the being delighted, the same thing will also take place in justice, and the other virtues, in which men evidently assert that there is more and less of things of this kind ; for some are more just and brave than others. It is likewise possible to act justly and to live temperately, in a greater and less degree. But if they admit this to take place in pleasures, they do not seem to have assigned the cause of it ; if some pleasures indeed are immingled, but others are mingled. What however hinders but that, in the same manner as health, which is a definite thing, receives the more and the less ; this, also, may be the case with pleasure? For there is not the same symmetry in all things, nor is there always one certain symmetry in the same thing ; but suffering a remission, it remains for a certain time, and differs in the more and the less. A thing of this kind, therefore, may also happen to pleasure. As they likewise admit that good itself is perfect, but that motions and genera-

tions are imperfect, they endeavour to show that pleasure is motion and generation. They do not, however, appear to assert this well, since pleasure is not motion. For to all motion swiftness and slowness appear to be appropriate, and though not per se, such as to the motion of the world, * yet they are appropriate with reference to another motion. But neither of these is inherent in pleasure. For it is possible, indeed, to be rapidly delighted, in the same manner as it is possible to be swiftly enraged ; but it is not possible for the delight itself to be swift or slow, not even with reference to something else. It is possible, * however, that walking and augmentation, may be swift or slow, and every thing else of the like kind. Hence, it is possible to be changed quickly and slowly into pleasure ; but it is not possible to energize swiftly according to it ; viz. to be delighted swiftly according to it.

. And in what manner will pleasure be generation ? For it appears that not any casual thing is generated from any casual thing, but that a thing is dissolved into that from which it was generated. And that of which pleasure is the generation, of this pain is the corruption. They also say, that pain is the indigence of that which is according to nature ; but that pleasure is the complete fulness of it. But these are corporeal passions. If, therefore, pleasure is the complete fulness of that which subsists according to nature, that in which this fulness takes place will also

' Viz. Of the inerratic sphere. For this sphere, in consequence of the equability of its motion, receives neither swiftness nor slowness, as is demonstrated in the treatise On the Heavens; but if it is compared with the motions of the planets, it will be found that its motion is much swifter than their motions. —Eustratius.

be delighted. Hence, the body will be delighted; but it does not appear that this is the case. Pleasure, therefore, is not complete fulness. But complete fulness, indeed, taking place, some one may be delighted, and when cut he may be pained. This opinion, however, appears to have originated from the pleasures and pains pertaining to food; for when we are in want of nutriment, and have been previously pained in consequence of this want, we are delighted with being completely filled. This, however, does not happen to be the case in all pleasures. For mathematical pleasures are unattended with pain, and also those sensible pleasures which subsist through the smell, the hearing, and the sight. Many recollections, also, and hopes are unattended with pain. Of what, therefore, will these be the generations? For in these there has been no previous indigence of any thing, of which these may be the complete fulness. But to those who adduce disgraceful pleasures [in confirmation of this opinion, it may be said that these are not simply] delectable. For it must not be admitted, that if these are delightful to those who are badly disposed, they are also simply delectable, but that they are so to these only; as neither are those things simply salubrious, or sweet, or bitter, which appear to be so to those who are diseased ; nor, again, are those things white which appear to be so to those whose eyes are dimmed with rheum. It may likewise be said in reply, that pleasures are indeed eligible, yet not from these things ; just as to be rich is eligible, yet not by treachery ; and to be well is eligible, yet not by eating any kind of food. Or it may be said, that pleasures are specifically different. For those pleasures which are produced by worthy, are different from those which are produced by base pursuits, and it is not

possible for any one to be delighted with the pleasure of a just man who is not just, or with the pleasure of a musician who is not a lover of music ; and in a similar manner in other things. A friend, also, who is a different person from a flatterer, appears to evince that pleasure is not good, or that pleasures are specifically different ; for it seems that the association of a friend is with a view to good, but of a flatterer, with a view to pleasure ; and the one is reprobated, but the other is praised, in consequence of their associations being directed to different ends. Besides, no one would choose to live, possessing a puerile understanding through the whole of life, and being delighted as much as possible with those things which are the objects of puerile delight; nor would any one choose so to rejoice in doing something most base, as never to be grieved for having done it. We likewise earnestly apply ourselves to many things, though they should procure us no pleasure; such as to see, to recollect, to know, and to possess the virtues. But it makes no difference, if pleasure follows these things from necessity ; for we should choose these, though no pleasure should be produced from them. That pleasure, therefore, is not good itself, and that all pleasure is not eligible, appears to be evident, as likewise that some pleasures are eligible of themselves, but differ in species, or in the things from which they are produced. And thus much may suffice with respect to what is asserted by others concerning pleasure and pain.

What pleasure, however, is, or what kind of thing it is, will become more evident, by resuming the consideration of it from the beginning. For the sight, indeed, seems to be perfect at any time ; since it is not indigent of any thing, which, taking place afterwards, will give perfection to its form. But pleasure seems to resemble a thing of this kind ; for it is a certain whole. Nor can a pleasure be assumed at any time, the form of which would be perfected by the. accession of a longer time. Hence, neither is it motion ; for all motion is in time, and is referred to a certain end. Thus, for instance, the motion which exists in building a temple is perfect, when it effects that which it desires to accomplish. It is perfect, therefore, either in the whole of the time, or in this time. But in the parts of the time, all the motions are imperfect, and are specifically different from the whole motion, and from each other. For the composition of the stones is different from the erection of the pillar at right angles, and these motions are different from the fabrication of the temple. And the motion, indeed, employed in building the temple is perfect ; for it is in want of nothing to the proposed end ; but the motion employed in laying the foundation and the roof is

imperfect ; for each pertains to a part. The motions, therefore, are specifically different, and it is not possible to assume a motion perfect in its species in any time, except the whole time. The like also takes place in walking and other motions. For if lation is a motion from one place to another, the specific differences of this motion are, flying, walking, leaping, and the like. And not only so, but in walking itself there is a difference ; for the motion from one place to another in walking, is not the same in the stadium and a part of the stadium, and in the different parts of it. Nor is the mutation of place the same in passing through this line and that, [viz. in passing through a curve and a straight line.] For not only a line is passed through, but a line existing in place ; and this line is in a different place from that. We have, therefore, accurately discussed motion elsewhere, [i. e. in the 5th book of the Physics.] Hence, it appears that motion is not perfect in every time, but that the multitude of motions are imperfect, and specifically different, since they are formalized by proceeding from one place to another. The form however of pleasure is perfect in any time. It is evident, therefore, that motion and pleasure are different from each other, and that pleasure is something whole and perfect.

This would also seem to be evident, from the impossibility of being moved except in time, but the possibility of being delighted without time, [i. e. in an instant ;] for that which is effected in the now, or an instant, is a certain whole. From these things, however, it is manifest, that it is not well said that pleasure is motion or generation ; for motion and generation are not predicated of all things, but of those only which may be dis*

tributed into parts, and are not wholes. For there is not generation of sight, nor of a point, nor of the monad ; nor is there either motion or generation of these. Neither, therefore, is there of pleasure ; for it is a certain whole. Hence, from what has been said, it is evident that a certain pleasure is conjoined with every sense in energy, which energizes without being impeded. But the energy of the sense is perfect which is well disposed towards the most beautiful of the objects that fall under that sense ; for perfect energy appears to be especially a thing of this kind. It is, however, of no consequence, whether it is said, that the sense itself energizes, or that in which it exists. But in every thing, the energy is the most excellent of that which is disposed in the best manner towards the most excellent of the things which are subject to it. But this energy will be most perfect and most delightful. For there is pleasure according to every sense ; and in a similar manner, according to every discursive energy of the soul, and every contemplation. But the most perfect energy is the most delectable ; and that is the most perfect which is the energy of that which is well disposed towards the best of the things subject to it. Pleasure, however, perfects energy. But pleasure does not perfect energy after the same manner as the object of sense perfects sense, when both are in a good condition ; just as neither are health and a physician similarly the cause of being made well. It is evident, however, that pleasure is produced according to each of the senses ; for we say that things which are seen, and things which are heard, are delectable. And it is also evident, that they are especially delectable, when

' I have here adopted the emendation proposed by Eustratius.

the sense is most excellent, and energises about the most excellent object. But where the sensible object, and that which perceives it, are things of this kind, there will always be pleasure, the agent and patient being present. Pleasure, however, perfects energy, not as an inherent habit, but as a certain supervening end, such as the flower of age in those who are in their acme. As long, however, as that which is sensible or intelligible, is such as it ought to be, and also that which judges or contemplates, pleasure will be in energy ; for when that which is passive and that which is active are similar, and subsisting after the same manner with reference to each other, the same thing is naturally adapted to be produced. How, therefore, does it happen that no one is continually delighted ? Is it because he becomes [at length] weary ? For all human concerns are incapable of energizing continually. Neither, therefore, can pleasure be generated in an uninterrupted continuity ; for it is consequent to energy. Some things, however, delight when they are new ; but afterwards for this reason [because pleasure cannot be generated incessantly] do not similarly delight. For at first, indeed, the discursive power of the soul inclines towards, and intently energizes about these, in the same manner as those who look intently at any thing. Afterwards, however, an energy of this kind is no longer produced, but it becomes remiss. Hence, the pleasure also is obscured. It may, however, be thought that all men aspire after pleasure, because all of them desire to live ; but life is a certain energy ; and every one energizes about and in those things which he especially loves. Thus, for instance, the musician energizes with the hearing about melodies, but the lover of disciplines energizes with the discursive power of his soul

about theorems, and in a similar manner the lover of other pursuits. But pleasure perfects energies ; and it likewise perfects life, which is the object of desire. Reasonably, therefore, do all men aspire after pleasure ; for it gives perfection to the life of each, which is an eligible thing. We shall, however, omit for the present to consider, whether we choose to live on account of pleasure, or choose pleasure for the sake of living ; for these things appear to be conjoined, and do not admit of being separated. For pleasure is not produced without energy, and pleasure gives perfection to every energy.

HENCE, also, pleasures appear to be specifically different ; for we are of opinion that things specifically different, are perfected through [perfections] specifically different. For this appears to be the case both with natural and artificial productions ; as, for instance, with animals and trees, pictures and statues, houses and furniture. In a similar manner, therefore, we are of opinion, that energies specifically different, are perfected by things that differ in species. But the energies of the discursive powers of reason, differ from the energies of the senses,

and these are specifically different from each other. Hence, also, the pleasures which give perfection to these are specifically different. This, however, will also become apparent from hence, that each of the pleasures is intimately familiarized with the energy which it perfects. For appropriate pleasures co-increase energy ; since those who energize in conjunction with pleasure, energize about every thing more accurately, and with more exquisite judgment. Thus, for instance, those become [more excellent] geometricians, who are delighted to geometrize, and they understand in a greater degree every thing geometrical. The like also takes place with the lovers of music, the lovers of architecture, and the lovers of the other arts ; for each of these makes a proficiency in his proper employment, if he delights in it. Pleasures, therefore, co-increase energies; but things which co-increase are appropriate ; and to things which are specifically different, the things also which are appropriate are specifically different. Again, this will in a greater degree become apparent, from considering that pleasures which are produced from different things are an impediment to energies. For the lovers of the flute cannot attend to discourse if they hear any one playing on the flute, in consequence of being more delighted with the melody of the flute, than with the present energy [i. e. than with what is said.] The pleasure, therefore, which is produced by the melody of the flute, corrupts the energy of discourse. And in a similar manner, this also happens in other things, when a man energizes at one and the same time about two things ; for the more delectable energy expels the other ; and this in a still greater degree, if it very much surpasses in pleasure, so as to render it impossible to energize according to the

other energy. Hence, when we are very much delighted with any thing, we do not in any great degree perform any thing else ; but when we are only moderately pleased with certain things, we can do others. Thus, those who in the theatres eat sweetmeats, are especially accustomed to do this when the performers act badly. Since, however, appropriate pleasure gives accuracy to energies, and renders them more lasting and better, but foreign pleasures corrupt them, it is evident that these pleasures differ very much from each other. For nearly foreign pleasures effect the same thing as appropriate pains, [i. e. as the pains which are consequent to certain energies.] Thus, if it is unpleasant and painful to any one to write or to any one to reason ; the former, indeed, will not write, and the latter will not reason, in consequence of the energy being painful. From appropriate pleasures and pains, therefore, that which is contrary happens about energies. But those pleasures and pains are appropriate, which are essentially consequent to energy. And with respect to foreign pleasures, we have already observed, that they effect something similar to pain, for they corrupt, though not in a similar manner.

Since, however, energies differ in probity and depravity, and some of them indeed being eligible, but others to be avoided, and others being neither, pleasures also have a similar mode of subsistence ; for there is an appropriate pleasure in every energy. The pleasure, therefore, which is appropriate to a worthy energy is worthy, but that which is appropriate to a bad energy, is depraved ; for the desires, indeed, of things truly beautiful are laudable, but of base things are blameable. The

pleasures however which are in energies, are more appropriate to the energies than desires are. For desires, indeed, are separated [from energies,] by times, and by nature; but pleasures are proximate to energies, and are so indistinct from them, as to render it dubious, whether energy is the same with pleasure. It does not appear, however, that pleasure is either the discursive energy of reason or sense ; for it would be absurd [to suppose that it is ;] though on account of the inseparability of pleasure from energy, it seems to certain persons to be the same with it. As, therefore, energies are different, so likewise pleasures. But the sight differs from the touch in purity, and the hearing and the smell from the taste. Hence, the pleasures also of these senses similarly differ ; and those which pertain to the discursive energy of reason, likewise differ, and both these differ from each other. It seems, however, that there is an appropriate pleasure to every animal, just as there also is an appropriate work ; for this pleasure is that which subsists according to energy. And this will be apparent from a survey of each particular. For there is one pleasure of a horse, another of a dog, and another of a man ; and, as Heraclitus says, an ass would prefer straw to gold ; because food is more delectable to asses than gold. The pleasures, therefore, of animals specifically different, are likewise specifically different, but it is reasonable to suppose that the pleasures of the same animals are without a [specific] difference. There is no small variety, how. ever, in pleasures among men ; for the same things are painful to some and pleasing to others ; and to some, indeed, they are painful and odious, but to others delectable and lovely. This, likewise, happens to be the case in sweet things ; for the same things do not appear sweet to

a man in a fever, and to one who is well ; nor does the same thing appear to be hot to him who is weak, and to him who is of a good habit of body. And in a similar manner this happens to be the case in other things. In all such things as these, however, that [is simply delectable] which appears to be so to the worthy man. But if this is well said, as it appears that it is, and virtue is the measure of every thing, and a good man so far as he is good, those things will be pleasures which appear to be so to the good man, and those things will be delectable in which he rejoices. It is, however, by no means wonderful, if things which appear to him to be of a troublesome nature, should to another person [of a different character,] appear to be delectable. For many corruptions and noxious circumstances happen to men; but these are not [simply] delectable, except to these persons, and to those who are thus disposed. With respect, therefore, to those pleasures which are acknowledged to be base, it is evident that they are not to be called pleasures, except by corrupt men. But with respect to those pleasures which appear to be worthy, what is the quality of the pleasure, or what shall we say the pleasure is, which is proper to men ? Or shall we say, that this is evident from energies ? For pleasures are consequent to these. Whether, therefore, there is one energy, or whether there are many energies of the perfect and blessed man, the pleasures which give perfection to these, may be properly called the pleasures of man ; but the remaining pleasures, in the same manner as the energies, may be denominated the pleasures of man secondarily and multifariously.

Having therefore spoken concerning the virtues, and friendships, and pleasures, it remains that we should delineate felicity, since we admit that it is the end of human concerns. Hence, by recapitulating what we have before said, the discussion will be more concise. We have said, then, that felicity is not a habit ; for if it were, it might be present with him who passes the whole of his life in sleep, living the life of a plant, and also with him who is involved in the greatest calamities. If, therefore, these things cannot be admitted, but felicity must rather be referred to a certain energy, as we have before observed, but of energies, some are necessary and eligible on account of other things, and others are eligible of themselves; — if this be the case, it is evident that felicity must be admitted to be some one of the energies which are of themselves eligible, and not one of those which are eligible on account of something else. For felicity is not indigent of any thing, but is sufficient to itself. But those energies are eligible of themselves, from which nothing except the energy is the object of investigation. But the actions which are conformable to virtue, appear to be things of this kind ; for to perform beautiful and

worthy deeds is among the number of things which are of themselves eligible ; and among diversions, this is also the case with those that are delectable ; since they are not chosen on account of other things. For those who are addicted to them are rather injured than benefited, in consequence of neglecting their bodies and possessions. Many of those, however, who are said to be happy men, fly to diversions ; on which account those who are versatile in such-like methods of spending their time are esteemed by tyrants. For they render themselves pleasing in those things which they desire ; and they are in want of persons of this description. These things, therefore, appear to pertain to felicity, because men in authority and power are at leisure for these. Perhaps, however, persons of this description are no indication [that these things pertain to felicity.]. For neither virtue, nor intellect, from which worthy energies proceed, consist in dominion and power. Nor, if these men, not having tasted of genuine and liberal pleasure, fly to corporeal pleasures, must it be supposed that on this account these pleasures are more eligible ; for children also fancy that things which are honoured by them, are the best of things. It is reasonable, therefore, to admit, that as different things appear to be honourable to children and men, so likewise to bad and worthy men. Hence, as we have frequently said, those things are honourable and delectable, which are so to the worthy man. But the energy to every one is most eligible which is according to an appropriate habit; and to the worthy man the energy is most eligible which is according to virtue. Felicity, therefore, does not consist in diversions. For it is absurd to admit that diversion is the end [i. e. the chief good of man,] and that the whole of life is to be busily

employed, and molestations endured for the sake of indulging in sports; since, as I may say, we choose all things for the sake of something else, except felicity; for this is the end. But to act seriously, and to labour for the sake of diversion, appears to be foolish and very puerile. He, however, who engages in sports, in order that he may act seriously, which Anacharsis thought was proper, appears to be right; for diversion resembles repose. But as men are incapable of labouring incessantly, they require relaxation. Relaxation, however, is not an end; for it subsists for the sake of energy. But a happy life appears to be conformable to virtue; and this is a worthy life, and does not consist in amusements. We likewise say that serious pursuits are better than those that are ridiculous and accompanied with jesting and sport, and that the energy of the better part and the better man is always more worthy. But the energy of that which is better is more excellent, and more adapted to felicity. Any casual person, also, and a slave may enjoy corporeal pleasures no less than the best of men. No one, however, would ascribe felicity to a slave, unless they also ascribe to him a worthy life. For felicity does not consist in sports and corporeal pleasures, but in the energies according to virtue, as we have before observed.

If, however, felicity is an energy according to virtue, it is reasonable to suppose that it is an energy according to the most excellent virtue; and this will be the virtue of the most excellent [part or power.] Whether,

' Aristotle having spoken of the physical virtues in the 6th book, (p. 468,) and having largely discussed the ethical and political virtues, as far as to the present book, now directs his attention to the virtues called theoretic, or contemplative. In order, however, to show that the division made by Plato and the best of his disciples, of the virtues, is also adopted by Aristotle, the following summary account of them from the Platonic Olympiodorus is subjoined:

The first of the virtues are the physical, which (as has been before observed) are common to brutes, being mingled with the temperaments, and for the most part contrary to each other; or rather pertaining to the animal. Of these virtues Plato speaks in the Politicus and the Laws. The ethical virtues, which are above these, are ingenerated by custom, and a certain right opinion, and are the virtues of children when well educated. These virtues, also, are to be found in some brute animals. They likewise transcend the temperaments, and on this account are not contrary to each other. These virtues Plato delivers in the Laws. They pertain, however, at the same time both to reason and the irrational nature. In the third rank above these are the political virtues, which pertain to reason alone; for they are scientific. But they are the virtues of reason adorning the irrational part as its instrument: through prudence adorning the gnostic, through fortitude the irascible power, and

therefore, this be the intellect, or something else which appears to rule and be the leader by nature, and to have a conception of things beautiful and divine; or whether

through temperance, the power of the soul which is characterised by desire; but adorning all the parts of the irrational nature through justice. And of these virtues Plato speaks much in the Republic. These virtues, too, follow each other. Above these are the cathartic virtues, which pertain to reason alone, withdrawing from other things to itself, throwing aside the instruments of sense as vain, repressing also the energies through these instruments, and liberating the soul from the bonds of generation. Plato particularly discusses these virtues in the Phædo. Prior to these, however, are the theoretic virtues, which pertain to the soul, introducing itself to natures superior to itself, not only gnostically, as some one may be induced to think from the name, but also orectically; for it hastens to become, as it were, intellect instead of soul; and intellect possesses both desire and knowledge. These virtues are the converse of the political ; for as the latter energize about things subordinate according to reason, so the former about things more excellent according to intellect. These virtues Plato delivers in the Theætetus.

I omit to mention another gradation of the virtues besides these, viz. the paradigmatic, because they are not mentioned by Aristotle. But for an account of them, I refer the reader to my translation of Plato, vol. iv. p. 273.

I shall only add, that to the superficial reader it will doubtless appear that Aristotle has omitted to mention the cathartic virtues, and that these virtues therefore form no part of the Peripatetic system of ethics. To this I reply, that Aristotle does not indeed expressly mention these virtues, but that he evidently alludes to their existence in the eighth chapter of this book; when he says that the ethical virtues are connected with the passions, and subsist about the composite from soul and body. Hence, as the theoretic virtues are not connected with the passions, and therefore, as he. says, life according to intellect is divine, with respect to human life these virtues evidently require to their existence a previous purification from the passions ; and this purification from the passions constitutes the cathartic virtues.

it is itself divine, or the most divine of all our parts ; — the energy of this, according to its proper virtue, will be perfect felicity. But we have said that this energy is contemplative. And this appears to accord with what we before asserted, and also with truth. For this energy is the most excellent ; since intellect is the best of all our parts, and of objects of knowledge those are the most excellent about which intellect is conversant. This energy also is most continued : for we are able to contemplate more incessantly than to perform any action whatever. We likewise think that pleasure ought to be mingled with felicity; but the energy according to wisdom is acknowledged to be the most delectable of all the energies according to virtue. Wisdom, therefore, appears to possess pleasures admirable both for their purity and stability. It is reasonable also to think that those who possess knowledge, live more pleasantly than those who investigate. That, too, which is called self-sufficiency, will especially subsist about the contemplative energy. For of the necessaries of life, the wise and the just man, and the rest of those who possess the moral virtues, are in want ; but even when they are sufficiently supplied with these, the just man is in want of those towards whom, and together with whom, he may act justly ; and in like manner the temperate and the brave man, and each of the rest. But the wise man when alone is able to contemplate ; and by how much the wiser he is, by so much the more does he possess this ability. Perhaps, indeed, he will contemplate better when he has others to co-operate with him ; but at the same time he is most sufficient to himself. This energy alone, likewise, will appear to be beloved for its own sake, for nothing else is produced from it besides contemplation. But from

things of a practical nature we obtain something more or less besides the action itself. Felicity also appears to consist in leisure : for we engage in business that we may be at leisure, and we wage war that we may live in peace. The energies therefore of the political virtues consist either in political or in military transactions ; but the actions which are conversant with these appear to be full of employment. This indeed is perfectly the case with military transactions : for no one chooses to wage war, or prepare for it, for the sake of waging war ; since he would appear to be perfectly a homicide who should make enemies of his friends for the sake of fighting and slaughter. The energy too of the politician is of a busy nature, and, besides the management of public affairs, is employed in procuring dominion and honour, or a felicity for himself and the citizens different from the political energy, which, also, as something different, we evidently investigate. If, therefore, political and military actions surpass in beauty and magnitude all other virtuous actions, but these are of a busy nature, aspire after a certain end, and are not eligible for their own sakes ; but the energy of intellect, which is contemplative, appears to excel other energies in ardor, and to desire no other end besides itself; if also it possesses a proper pleasure, which increases its energy, and has, in addition to this, self-sufficiency, leisure, and unwearied power, so far as the condition of human nature will permit, with whatever else is attributed to the blessed, and appears to subsist according to this energy ; — if such be the case, this will be the perfect felicity of man, when it receives a perfect length of life : for nothing belonging to felicity is imperfect. Such a life, however, will be more excellent than that which is merely human; for man will not thus live so

far as he is man, but so far as he contains in himself something divine. And as much as this part excels the composite, so much does its energy surpass the energy belonging to every other virtue. If, therefore, intellect is divine with respect to man, the life, also, according to intellect will be divine with respect to human life. Nor ought we, according to the exhortation of certain persons, to be wise in human affairs, since we are men, nor to regard mortal concerns, since we are mortal; but as much as possible we should immortalize ourselves, and do every thing in order to live according to our most excellent part. For this part, though it is small in bulk, far excels all things in power and dignity. It would seem, also, that each of us is this part, since that which obtains dominion is also more excellent. It would therefore be absurd for a man not to choose his own life, but the life of something else. That too which was before asserted, accords with what is now said; for that which is intimately allied to any nature is most excellent and pleasant to that nature; and hence, a life according to intellect will be most excellent and pleasant to man, since this part is most eminently man. This life, therefore, is also most happy.

The true man, both according to Aristotle and Plato, is intellect: for the essence of every thing is the summit of its nature.

But that felicity ranks in the second place which subsists according to another virtue; for the energies according to this virtue are human. For we act justly and bravely, and perform other things conformable to the virtues, towards each other, in contracts, in necessaries, in all-various actions, and in the passions, preserving to every one that which is fit and decorous. All these things, however, appear to be human. Some things, likewise, appear to happen from the body, and the virtue of manners is in many instances conjoined, and rendered familiar with the passions. Prudence, also, is conjoined with the virtue of manners, and the virtue of manners with prudence ; since the principles, indeed, of prudence subsist according to the ethical virtues, and the rectitude of the ethical virtues subsists according to prudence. These, however, are connected with the passions, and will subsist about the composite [or that which consists of soul and body]. But the virtues of the composite are human. The life, therefore, and the felicity conformable to them, will also be human. The felicity, however, of intellect is separate ;

" Viz. The felicity which consists in an active life, or in the exercise of prudence, and the moral virtues.

for thus much may be asserted concerning it ; since to discuss it accurately is a greater undertaking than is adapted to the present treatise. It would also seem that this felicity requires but little of external supply, or less than ethical felicity. For let it be admitted that both require necessaries, and this equally ; (though the political character labours in a greater degree about the body and things of this kind) since this is but of small consequence ; yet it makes a great difference with respect to energies. For the liberal man will be in want of wealth, in order to perform liberal deeds, and also the just man, in order to make retributions. For the wills of men are immanifest, and those who are not just pretend they wish to act justly. But the brave man will be in want of power, in order to effect something conformable to the virtue of fortitude; and the temperate man will be in want of the means of acting temperately. For how will this man, or he who possesses any one of the other virtues, become manifest ? It becomes, however, an object of inquiry, whether deliberate choice possesses greater authority in virtue, or whether it is possessed by actions, virtue subsisting in both these. It is evident, therefore, that the perfect will be in both. But many things are requisite to the perfection of actions ; and in proportion as they are greater and more beautiful, a greater number of things are necessary. To him, however, who energizes according to theoretic virtue, there is no need of things of this kind so far as pertains to this energy; but, as I may say, they are impediments to his contemplation. Yet so far as he is a man, and lives with many

' Aristotle says this, because he professedly discusses these things in the 3rd book of his treatise On the Soul.

others, he also chooses to perform actions conformable to virtue. He will therefore require external things, in order that he may act like a man.

But that perfect felicity is a certain contemplative energy, may become apparent from hence, that we consider the gods to be especially blessed and happy. What kind of actions, however, is it fit to ascribe to them ? Shall we say just actions ? Or will they not appear ridiculous, if they form contracts and return deposits, and do other things of the like kind ? Shall we say then that they are brave; sustaining things of a terrible nature, and encountering dangers because it is beautiful so to do ! Or that they are liberal ? But to whom will they give ? It would, however, be absurd to suppose that there is money with them, or any thing of this kind. And if they are temperate, what will this temperance be ? Or is not the praise unapt which celebrates them as not having depraved desires ? But if we should enumerate every thing pertaining to actions, it would appear to be small and unworthy of the gods.' All men, however, acknowledge that they live ; and therefore that they energize ; for it must not be supposed that they pass their life in sleep like Endymion. Hence, if action is taken away from

' All the virtues subsist in divinity, but according to a divine and not a human characteristic ; for the virtues are good, and all goodness originates from divinity. Prior, likewise, to beings which sometimes participate the virtues, as is our case, it is necessary there should be natures which always participate them. Aristotle, therefore, when he excludes from the gods all the virtues except the theoretic, intends only to signify that they do not subsist in them as they do in us, but are in them essentially different, as being characterized by a divine intellect.

that which lives, and in a still greater degree production, what remains except contemplation ? So that the energy of God, since it excels in blessedness, will be contemplative.' And of human energies, therefore, that which is

" This contemplative energy of divinity is beautifully illustrated by Proclus as follows, in his admirable MS. Commentary on the Parmenides of Plato :— " It is by no means proper to disbelieve in the indivisible knowledge of divinity, which knows sensibles without possessing sense, and divisible natures without possessing a divisible energy, and which, without being present to things in place, knows them prior to all local presence, and imparts to every thing that which every thing is capable of receiving. The unstable essence, therefore, of apparent natures is not known by him in an unstable, but in a definite manner ; nor does he know that which is subject to all-various mutations dubiously, but in a manner perpetually the same. For by knowing himself, he knows every thing of which he is the cause, possessing a knowledge transcendently more accurate than that which is co-ordinate to the objects of knowledge ; since a causal knowledge of every thing is superior to every other kind of knowledge. Divinity, therefore, knows, without busily attending to the objects of his intellection, because he abides in himself, and, by alone knowing himself, knows all things. Nor is he indigent of sense, or opinion, or science, in order to know sensible natures ; for it is himself that produces all these, and that, in the unfathomable depths of the intellection of himself, comprehends an united knowledge of them, according to cause, and in one simplicity of perception. Just as if some one having built a ship, should place in it men of his own formation, and, in consequence of possessing a various art, should add a sea to the ship, produce certain winds, and afterwards launch the ship into the new-created main. Let us suppose too, that he causes these to have an existence by merely conceiving them to exist, so that by imagining all this to take place, he gives an external subsistence to his inward phan- tasms ; it is evident that, in this case, he will contain the cause of every thing which happens to the ship through the winds on the sea, and that by contemplating his own conceptions, without being indigent of outward conversion, he will at the same time both fa-

most allied to this [energy of God,] will be most adapted to procure felicity. But as an indication of the truth of this, other animals which are perfectly deprived of any energy of this kind, do not partake of felicity. For the whole life of the gods is indeed blessed ; but that of men is blessed so far as they possess a certain similitude of such an energy as this. Of other animals, however, no one is happy, because they do not in any. respect participate of contemplation. As far, therefore, as contemplation extends itself, so far also is felicity extended ; and the felicity of those beings is greater, in whom there is more of the contemplative energy; and this not from accident, but according to contemplation; for this is of itself honourable. Hence, felicity will be a certain contemplation.

bricate and know these external particulars. Thus, and in a far greater degree, that divine intellect the artificer of the universe, possessing the causes of all things, both gives subsistence to, and contemplates whatever the universe contains, without departing from the speculation of himself. But if with respect to intellect, one kind is more partial, and another more total, it is evident that there is not the same intellectual perfection of all things, but that where intelligibles have a more total and undistributed subsistence, there the knowledge is more total and indivisible, and where the number of forms proceeds into multitude and extension, there the knowledge is both one and multiform. Hence, this being admitted, we cannot wonder on hearing the Orphic verses, in which the theologist says :

Aimiit Zii9Pf *m ir fifutrt frmr^^t ahmbtK)

There, in the sight of Jove the parent king, Th' immortal gods and mortal men reside, With all that ever was, and shall hereafter be.'

External prosperity, however, will be requisite [to him who energizes according to theoretic virtue,] since he is a man; for human nature is not sufficient to itself for the purposes of contemplation; but it is also requisite that the body should be well, and that it should be supplied with food, and other necessaries. It must not, however, be supposed, that because it is not possible for a man to be blessed. without external goods, the happy man will therefore require many of these, and such as are great; for neither the acception of being sufficient to itself, nor judgment, nor action, consists in an excess [of external goods]. But it is possible for those who have no dominion over the earth and sea to perform beautiful deeds; since a man, from moderate possessions, may be able to act according to virtue. The truth of this, however, may be clearly seen; for private persons appear to act no less equitably, but even more so than potentates. But moderate possessions are sufficient for this purpose; for the life of him will be happy who energizes according to virtue. And Solon perhaps well defined those who are happy, by saying, that they are such as are moderately furnished with external possessions, and who perform the most beautiful actions, and live temperately; since it is possible for those whose possessions are but moderate, to do those things which ought to be done. Anaxagoras likewise appears to have thought that the happy man was neither the rich man nor the potentate, when he says, '' that it would not be at all wonderful, if I should be considered by the multitude as an absurd and miserable man.'' For the multitude judge from external circumstances, having a sensible perception of these alone. The opinions, also, of the wise seem to accord with these assertions. Things of this kind, there-

fore, are attended with a certain credibility. A judgment, however, is to be formed of the truth in practical affairs from deeds and the life; for in these that which possesses principal authority consists. Hence, it is requisite to consider what has been before said, by referring it to deeds and the life of a man. And when the assertions accord with deeds, they are to be admitted ; but when they are dissonant, they are to be considered as nothing but words. But the man who energizes according to intellect, who cultivates this, and is mentally disposed in the best manner, is also, it would seem, most dear to divinity. For if any attention is paid by the gods to human affairs, as it appears there is, it is also reasonable to suppose that they will be delighted with that which is most excellent, and most allied to themselves ; but this is intellect ; and likewise that they will remunerate those who especially love and honour this, as taking care of that which is dear to themselves, and acting rightly and well. It is, however, not immanifest, that all these things are especially present with the wise man. Hence, he is most dear to divinity. It is also probable that the same man is most happy. So that thus, also, the wise man will be especially happy.

Are we therefore to think, that if these things and the virtues, and likewise friendship and pleasure, have been sufficiently delineated, our purpose is completely effected ? Or shall we say, as has been before observed, that the end in practical affairs is not to survey and know each particular, but rather to perform it? Neither, therefore, is it sufficient in virtue to know it, but there should also be an endeavour to possess and use it ; or in some other way must we strive to become good then ? If, therefore, words were sufficient of themselves to make men worthy, they ought justly, as Theognis says, to be valued at a great price, and it would be necessary to procure them. Now, however, they appear to be sufficiently powerful to exhort and excite liberal young men, and to make those whose manners are noble, and who are truly lovers of beautiful conduct, obedient to virtue ; but they are incapable of exhorting the multitude to probity. For the multitude are not naturally adapted to be obedient from shame, but from fear ; nor to abstain from bad conduct through the disgrace with which it is attended. VOL. ii. 2 B

tended, but through punishment. For, living from passion, they pursue their pleasures, and those things through which they may be procured ; but they avoid the pains opposed to these. They have not, however, any conception of that which is beautiful in conduct, and truly delectable, in consequence of not having tasted of it. What discourse, therefore, can dispose such men to orderly conduct? For it is not possible, or at least it is not easy, to obliterate by words, things which have been for a long time impressed in the manners. But perhaps we must be satisfied, if every thing being present with us, through which we are accustomed to become worthy, we may be able to partake of virtue.

Some, however, are of opinion that men become good from nature, others that they become good from custom, and others from doctrine. As to goodness from nature, therefore, it is evident that this is not in our power, but that it is inherent in those who are truly fortunate, through a certain divine cause. But it must be considered whether it is not true, that words and precepts are not accompanied with power towards all men, but it is requisite that the soul of the auditor should have been previously excited by manners, to rejoice and hate properly, like land which is intended to nourish seed. For he who lives under the influence of passion, will not attend to the reasoning which dissuades him from such a life. How, therefore, is it possible to induce one who is so disposed, to alter his mode of conduct ? In short, passion does not appear to yield to reason, but to violence. Hence, it is necessary, that manners should pre-exist, in a certain respect appropriate to virtue, in order that their possessor may love what is beautiful, and be indignant with what is

disgraceful in conduct. To obtain, however, a right education for virtue, from our youth, is difficult, without being nurtured by laws which enforce the offices of virtue. For to live temperately and accustomed to endurance, is not pleasing to the multitude, and especially to youth. Hence, it is necessary that education, studies and pursuits, should be ordained by laws (for by custom they will cease to be painful. But perhaps it is not sufficient for youth to obtain a right education, and to have proper attention paid to them, but it is also necessary, when they have arrived at the perfection of manhood, that they should study and be accustomed to these things; and in these we shall likewise require the assistance of the laws; and in short, through the whole of life. For the multitude are more obedient to necessity than to reason, and to punishment than to the beautiful in conduct. Hence, some persons are of opinion that legislators ought indeed to excite men to virtue, and exhort them to it for the sake of the beautiful in conduct, because worthy men will precedaneously from their manners obey their exhortations; but that castigations and punishments should be inflicted on those who disobey them, and who are naturally more unapt; and that the incurable should be entirely exterminated from the community. For, say they, the worthy man, and he who lives with a view to the beautiful in conduct, will be obedient to reason; but the bad man who aspires after pleasure, is to be punished by pain, like a beast of burden. Hence, they add, it is necessary that such pains should be employed, as are especially contrary to the pleasures which they embrace.

If, therefore, as we have said, it is requisite that he

who is to be a good man should be well educated, and accustomed to virtuous conduct, and afterwards should thus live in worthy studies and pursuits, and neither unwillingly nor willingly perform base deeds; and if these things may happen to those who live conformably to a certain intellect and right order, possessing power and strength; — if this be the case, the paternal mandate, indeed, is neither accompanied with strength nor necessity, nor in short the mandate of one man, unless he is a king, or a person endued with a similar authority; but the law possesses a necessarily-compelling power, being a mandate proceeding from a certain prudence and intellect. And those, indeed, who are adverse to the impulses of depraved men, though they are right in so doing, are hated [by the multitude]. Law, however, when it ordains what is equitable, is not attended with molestation. But in the city of the Lacedaemonians alone, the legislator appears to have paid attention to education and studies, or pursuits; while in most cities things of this kind are neglected, and every one, after the manner of the Cyclops, lives as he pleases.

By these no statutes and no rights are known. No council held, no monarch fills the throne; But high on hills or airy cliffs they dwell, Or deep in caves whose entrance leads to hell. Each rules his race, his neighbour not his care. Heedless of others, to his own severe. *

It is best, therefore, that a common and right attention should be paid to the citizens, and that there should be

* Odyss. lib. 9. v. 112, &c. Aristotle quotes the last line but one only of these verses. The translation is by Pope. #

an ability of effecting this. But if these things are neglected in common, it would seem to be fit that every one should contribute to the promotion of his children and friends in virtue, or should pre-determine to do so. From what has been said, however, it would seem that this may especially be effected by him who possesses the power of a legislator. For attentions to the general welfare are effected through the laws; but equitable attentions are accomplished through worthy men. It does not, however, seem to make any difference, whether the laws are written or unwritten, nor whether one person or many are disciplined by them, as neither does it make any difference in music, and gymnastic and other disciplines. For as in cities legal institutions and manners are efficacious, so in families paternal mandates and manners; and they are still more efficacious on account of alliance, and the benefits conferred by parents on their children. For children previous to these mandates loved their parents, and are naturally disposed to be obedient to them. Farther still, private differs from public education, in the same manner as in medicine [particular differ from universal prescriptions]. For universally, indeed, abstinence and quiet are advantageous to one who has a fever; but to this particular person perhaps they are not. And he who is a master in the pugilistic art will not perhaps enjoin the same mode of fighting to all his pupils. It would seem, however, that particulars will be more accurately managed, when private attention is paid to them; for then each individual will in a greater degree obtain that which is adapted to him. But the physician, the master of gymnastic exercises, and every other artist, will in the best manner pay attention to an individual, if they know universally what is beneficial to all persons, or to persons

of a certain description; for sciences are said to be, and are in reality, of that which is common. Nothing, however, perhaps hinders but that a man may pay attention to one certain thing in a proper manner, though he is destitute of science, while he accurately surveys from experience what happens to each particular thing, just as some persons appear to be most excellent physicians to themselves, but are unable to give medical assistance to another person. Perhaps, however, it would seem [notwithstanding this] to be no less requisite for him who wishes to become an artist and to be theoretic, to proceed to that which is universal, and to know this as far as it can be known; for we have already observed, that sciences are conversant with this. Perhaps also it is requisite, that he who wishes to make others better by the attention which he pays to them, whether they be many or few, should endeavour to become skilled in legislation, if we can be rendered good men through the laws. Hence, it is not the province of any casual person to render some man, or one committed to his care, fitly disposed to become virtuous, but if it belongs to any one to effect this, it is the province of the man of science; just as in medicine, and the other arts, to which a certain attention and prudence pertain. Is it requisite, therefore, after this to consider whence or how a man may acquire a legislative skill? Or, as in other arts, is this to be learned from those who are conversant with the management of public affairs? For this appears to be a part of the political science. Or shall we say that a similar thing does not seem to take place in the political science, and the other sciences and powers? For in the others, the same persons are seen to impart the powers, and to energize from them; as is evident in physicians and painters. But the

Sophists profess indeed to teach politics, yet no one of them acts in a political capacity. And it would seem that those who are engaged in the management of public affairs, do this by a certain power and experience, rather than by the exercise of the reasoning faculty. For they do not appear either to write or speak about things of this kind, though perhaps this would be better than to compose forensic or popular orations ; nor again, is it seen that they have made either their own children political characters, or some other children of their friends. It is reasonable, however, to suppose that they would have done this, if they had been able ; for neither could they have left any thing better to cities, nor could they have deliberately chosen any thing more excellent than this power, either for themselves, or their dearest friends. Nevertheless experience appears to contribute in no small degree [to the management of public affairs ;] for otherwise men would not become more political through being accustomed to political affairs. Hence, experience seems to be necessary to those who desire to be skilled in the political science. Those sophists, however, who profess to teach the political science, appear to be very far from possessing this ability; for, in short, they neither know what kind of a thing it is, nor what the things are with which it is conversant. For if they did, they would not suppose it to be the same with the rhetorical art, or inferior to it ; nor would they think it is easy for him to act the part of a legislator, who has collected the most celebrated and approved laws ; since they say that the best laws are to be selected, just as if the selection did not require intelligence, or as if to judge rightly was not one of the greatest of things, in the same manner as in what pertains to music. For skilful men judge rightly respect-

ing the works in which they are skilled, and understand through what means, or in what manner they may be accomplished, and what the appropriate adaptations of them are ; but to the unskilful it is sufficient not to be ignorant, whether a work is well or ill done, in the same manner as in the painter's art. Laws, however, resemble political works. How, therefore, can any one be adapted to become a legislator from these, or to judge which of them are the best ? For neither does it appear that men become skilled in medicine, by reading medical books ; though these books not only endeavour to point out the cures, but likewise the remedies which are to be applied, and the methods of cure, distinguishing also the habits of each person. It seems, however, that these things are beneficial to skilful persons, but useless to the unscientific. Perhaps, therefore, collections of laws and polities may be useful to those who are able to survey and judge what is well established or the contrary, and what the appropriate adaptations are in these ; but those who discuss things of this kind without the political habit, will never be able to judge well, except from chance ; though perhaps they will become more intelligent in these particulars. Since, therefore, the politicians prior to us have omitted to investigate legislation, it will perhaps be better for us to consider it more attentively, and in short to discuss a polity [universally,] in order that the philosophy which pertains to human affairs may as much as possible be brought to perfection. In the first place, therefore, if any thing has been well said by the ancients on this subject, we shall endeavour to relate it. In the next place, from the collections which have been made of polities, we shall endeavour to survey what the nature is of the things which preserve and corrupt cities and the

several polities, and from what causes some of them are well but others ill governed. For these things being surveyed, perhaps we shall be able in a greater degree to perceive what kind of polity is the best; how each is to be arranged, and what laws and manners it should use. We shall begin, therefore, the discussion of politics.

From this it is evident that the treatise on Politics ought to follow the other treatises on Ethics, viz. the Great and the Eudemian Ethics, I deemed it better to bring together all that Aristotle has written on morals, previously to presenting the reader with his Politics.