Aristotle on Politics
From the Politics (trans. Jowett)
Book
I, Chapter 1
EVERY
STATE is a community of some kind, and every
community is established with a view to some good; for mankind always act in order
to obtain that which they think good. But, if all communities aim at some good,
the state or political community, which is the highest of all, and which
embraces all the rest, aims at good in a greater degree than any other, and at
the highest good.
Some people think that the
qualifications of a statesman, king, householder, and master are the same, and
that they differ, not in kind, but only in the number of their subjects. For
example, the ruler over a few is called a master; over more, the manager of a
household; over a still larger number, a statesman or king, as if there were no
difference between a great household and a small state. The distinction which
is made between the king and the statesman is as follows: When the government
is personal, the ruler is a king; when, according to the rules of the political
science, the citizens rule and are ruled in turn, then
he is called a statesman.
But all this is a mistake; for
governments differ in kind, as will be evident to any one
who considers the matter according to the method which has hitherto guided us.
As in other departments of science, so in politics, the compound should always
be resolved into the simple elements or least parts of the whole. We must
therefore look at the elements of which the state is composed, in order that we
may see in what the different kinds of rule differ from one another, and
whether any scientific result can be attained about each one of them.
Book
1, Chapter 2
He who thus considers
things in their first growth and origin, whether a state or anything else, will
obtain the clearest view of them.
In the first place there must be a union of those who cannot exist without each
other; namely, of male and female, that the race may continue (and this is a
union which is formed, not of deliberate purpose, but because, in common with
other animals and with plants, mankind have a natural desire to leave behind
them an image of themselves), and of natural ruler and subject, that both may
be preserved. For that which can foresee by the exercise of mind is by nature
intended to be lord and master, and that which can with its body give effect to
such foresight is a subject, and by nature a slave; hence master and slave have
the same interest. Now nature has distinguished between the female and the
slave. For she is not niggardly, like the smith who fashions the Delphian knife for many uses; she makes each thing for a
single use, and every instrument is best made when intended for one and not for
many uses. But among barbarians no distinction is made between women and
slaves, because there is no natural ruler among them: they are a community of
slaves, male and female. Wherefore the poets say,
It is meet that
Hellenes should rule over barbarians;
as if they thought that the barbarian and the slave were by nature one.
Out of these two relationships between
man and woman, master and slave, the first thing to arise is the family, and
Hesiod is right when he says,
First house and wife
and an ox for the plough,
for the ox is the poor man's slave. The family is the
association established by nature for the supply of men's everyday wants, and
the members of it are called by Charondas 'companions
of the cupboard,' and by Epimenides the Cretan,
'companions of the manger.' But when several families are united, and the
association aims at something more than the supply of daily needs, the first
society to be formed is the village. And the most natural form of the village
appears to be that of a colony from the family, composed of the children and
grandchildren, who are said to be suckled 'with the same milk.' And this is the
reason why Hellenic states were originally governed by kings; because the
Hellenes were under royal rule before they came together, as the barbarians
still are. Every family is ruled by the eldest, and therefore in the colonies
of the family the kingly form of government prevailed because they were of the
same blood. As Homer says:
Each one gives law to
his children and to his wives.
For they lived
dispersedly, as was the manner in ancient times. Wherefore men say that the Gods have a king, because they
themselves either are or were in ancient times under the rule of a king. For
they imagine, not only the forms of the Gods, but their ways of life to be like
their own.
When several villages are united in a
single complete community, large enough to be nearly or quite self-sufficing,
the state comes into existence, originating in the bare needs of life, and
continuing in existence for the sake of a good life. And therefore, if the
earlier forms of society are natural, so is the state, for it is the end of
them, and the nature of a thing is its end. For what each thing is when fully
developed, we call its nature, whether we are speaking of a man, a horse, or a
family. Besides, the final cause and end of a thing is the best, and to be
self-sufficing is the end and the best.
Hence it is evident that the state is a
creation of nature, and that man is by nature a political animal. And he who by
nature and not by mere accident is without a state, is either a [beast] or a
[god]; he is like the
Tribeless, lawless, hearthless one,
whom Homer denounces -- the natural outcast is forthwith a lover
of war; he may be compared to an isolated piece at draughts.
Now, that man is more of a political
animal than bees or any other gregarious animals is evident. Nature, as we
often say, makes nothing in vain, and man is the only animal whom she has
endowed with the gift of speech. And whereas mere voice is but an indication of
pleasure or pain, and is therefore found in other animals (for their nature
attains to the perception of pleasure and pain and the intimation of them to
one another, and no further), the power of speech is intended to set forth the
expedient and inexpedient, and therefore likewise the just and the unjust. And
it is a characteristic of man that he alone has any sense of good and evil, of
just and unjust, and the like, and the association of living beings who have
this sense makes a family and a state.
Further, the state is by nature clearly
prior to the family and to the individual, since the whole is of necessity
prior to the part; for example, if the whole body be destroyed, there will be
no foot or hand, except in an equivocal sense, as we might speak of a stone
hand; for when destroyed the hand will be no better than that. But things are
defined by their working and power; and we ought not to say that they are the
same when they no longer have their proper quality, but only that they have the
same name. The proof that the state is a creation of nature and prior to the
individual is that the individual, when isolated, is not self-sufficing; and
therefore he is like a part in relation to the whole. But he who is unable to
live in society, or who has no need because he is sufficient for himself, must
be either a beast or a god: he is no part of a state. A social instinct is
implanted in all men by nature, and yet he who first founded the state was the
greatest of benefactors. For man, when perfected, is the best of animals, but,
when separated from law and justice, he is the worst of all; since armed
injustice is the more dangerous, and he is equipped at birth with arms, meant
to be used by intelligence and virtue, which he may use for the worst ends.
Wherefore, if he have not virtue, he is the most
unholy and the most savage of animals, and the most full of lust and gluttony.
But justice is the bond of men in states, for the administration of justice,
which is the determination of what is just, is the principle of order in
political society.
Book 3, Chapter 1
He who would inquire into the essence and attributes
of various kinds of governments must first of all determine
'What is a state?' At present this is a disputed question. Some
say that the state has done a certain act; others, no, not the
state, but the oligarchy or the tyrant. And the legislator or
statesman is concerned entirely with the state; a constitution or government being an arrangement of the inhabitants of a state. But a state is
composite, like any other whole made up of many parts; these are
the citizens, who compose it. It is evident, therefore, that we
must begin by asking, Who is the
citizen, and what is the meaning of the term? For here again there may
be a difference of opinion. He who is a citizen in a democracy will often
not be a citizen in an oligarchy. Leaving out of consideration those who have been made citizens, or who have obtained the name of
citizen any other accidental manner, we may say, first, that a
citizen is not a citizen because he lives in a certain place, for
resident aliens and slaves share in the place; nor is he a
citizen who has no legal right except that of suing and being
sued; for this right may be enjoyed under the provisions of a
treaty. Nay, resident aliens in many places do not possess even such rights completely, for they are obliged to have a patron, so that
they do but imperfectly participate in citizenship, and we call
them citizens only in a qualified sense, as we might apply the
term to children who are too young to be on the register, or to
old men who have been relieved from state duties. Of these we do
not say quite simply that they are citizens, but add in the one
case that they are not of age, and in the other, that they are
past the age, or something of that sort; the precise expression is
immaterial, for our meaning is clear. Similar difficulties to those which
I have mentioned may be raised and answered about deprived citizens and
about exiles. But the citizen whom we are seeking to define is a citizen in the strictest sense, against whom no such exception can be
taken, and his special characteristic is that he shares in the
administration of justice, and in offices. Now of offices some
are discontinuous, and the same persons are not allowed to hold
them twice, or can only hold them after a fixed interval; others
have no limit of time- for example, the office of a dicast
or ecclesiast. It may, indeed, be argued that these are not
magistrates at all, and that their functions give them no share
in the government. But surely it is ridiculous to say that those
who have the power do not govern. Let us not dwell further upon
this, which is a purely verbal question; what we want is a
common term including both dicast and ecclesiast. Let
us, for the sake of distinction, call it 'indefinite office,'
and we will assume that those who share in such office are
citizens. This is the most comprehensive definition of a
citizen, and best suits all those who are generally so called.
But we must not forget that things of which the
underlying principles differ in kind, one of them being first,
another second, another third, have, when regarded in this
relation, nothing, or hardly anything, worth mentioning in
common. Now we see that governments differ in kind,
and that some of them are prior and that others are posterior;
those which are faulty or perverted are necessarily posterior to
those which are perfect. (What we mean by perversion will be
hereafter explained.) The citizen then of necessity differs
under each form of government; and our definition is best
adapted to the citizen of a democracy; but not necessarily to other states.
For in some states the people are not acknowledged, nor have they any
regular assembly, but only extraordinary ones; and suits are distributed by sections among the magistrates. At Lacedaemon, for instance, the
Ephors determine suits about
contracts, which they distribute among themselves, while the
elders are judges of homicide, and other causes are decided by other
magistrates. A similar principle prevails at Carthage; there certain magistrates decide all causes. We may, indeed, modify our
definition of the citizen so as to include these states. In them
it is the holder of a definite, not of an indefinite office, who
legislates and judges, and to some or all such holders of definite
offices is reserved the right of deliberating or judging about
some things or about all things. The conception of the citizen
now begins to clear up.
He who has the power to take part in the deliberative or judicial administration
of any state is said by us to be a citizens of that
state; and, speaking generally, a state is a body of citizens
sufficing for the purposes of life.
Book 3, Chapter 4
There
is a point nearly allied to the preceding: Whether the virtue of
a good man and a good citizen is the same or not. But, before entering on this discussion, we must certainly first obtain some general
notion of the virtue of the citizen. Like the sailor, the
citizen is a member of a community. Now, sailors have different
functions, for one of them is a rower, another a pilot, and a
third a look-out man, a fourth is described by some similar
term; and while the precise definition of each individual's virtue
applies exclusively to him, there is, at the same time, a common definition
applicable to them all. For they have all of them a common object, which
is safety in navigation. Similarly, one citizen differs from another, but the salvation of the community is the common business of them
all. This community is the constitution; the virtue of the
citizen must therefore be relative to the constitution of which
he is a member. If, then, there are many forms of government,
it is evident that there is not one single virtue of the good
citizen which is perfect virtue. But we say that the good man
is he who has one single virtue which is perfect virtue. Hence it
is evident that the good citizen need not of necessity possess the virtue which makes a good man.
The same question may also be approached by another road, from a
consideration of the best constitution. If the state cannot be entirely composed of good men, and yet each citizen is expected to do his
own business well, and must therefore have virtue, still
inasmuch as all the citizens cannot be alike, the virtue of the
citizen and of the good man cannot coincide. All must have the
virtue of the good citizen- thus, and thus only, can the state
be perfect; but they will not have the virtue of a good man, unless
we assume that in the good state all the citizens must be good.
Again, the state, as composed of unlikes, may be
compared to the living being: as the first elements into which
a living being is resolved are soul and body, as soul is made
up of rational principle and appetite, the family of husband
and wife, property of master and slave, so of all these, as well
as other dissimilar elements, the state is composed; and, therefore,
the virtue of all the citizens cannot possibly be the same, any
more than the excellence of the leader of a chorus is the same as that of the performer who stands by his side. I have said enough to
show why the two kinds of virtue cannot be absolutely and
always the same.
But will there then be no case in which the virtue of the good citizen
and the virtue of the good man coincide? To this we answer that the
good ruler is a good and wise man, and that he who would be a statesman must be a wise man. And some persons say that even the education
of the ruler should be of a special kind; for are not the
children of kings instructed in riding and military exercises?
As Euripides says:
"No subtle arts for me, but what the state requires. "
As though there were a special education
needed by a ruler. If then the virtue of a good ruler is
the same as that of a good man, and we assume further that the
subject is a citizen as well as the ruler, the virtue of the
good citizen and the virtue of the good man cannot be absolutely the
same, although in some cases they may; for the virtue of a ruler differs from that of a citizen. It was the sense of this difference which
made Jason say that 'he felt hungry when he was not a tyrant,'
meaning that he could not endure to live in a private station.
But, on the other hand, it may be argued that men are praised
for knowing both how to rule and how to obey, and he is said to
be a citizen of approved virtue who is able to do both. Now if
we suppose the virtue of a good man to be that which rules, and
the virtue of the citizen to include ruling and obeying, it cannot
be said that they are equally worthy of praise. Since, then, it is
sometimes thought that the ruler and the ruled must learn different things and not the same, but that the citizen must know and share
in them both, the inference is obvious. There is, indeed, the
rule of a master, which is concerned with menial offices- the
master need not know how to perform these, but may employ
others in the execution of them: the other would be degrading;
and by the other I mean the power actually to do menial duties,
which vary much in character and are executed by various classes of
slaves, such, for example, as handicraftsmen, who, as their name signifies, live by the labor of their hands: under these the mechanic is
included. Hence in ancient times, and among some nations, the
working classes had no share in the government- a privilege
which they only acquired under the extreme democracy. Certainly
the good man and the statesman and the good citizen ought not
to learn the crafts of inferiors except for their own
occasional use; if they habitually practice them, there will cease to
be a distinction between master and slave.
This is not the rule of which we are speaking; but there is a rule of
another kind, which is exercised over freemen and equals by birth -a constitutional rule, which the ruler must learn by obeying, as he
would learn the duties of a general of cavalry by being under
the orders of a general of cavalry, or the duties of a general
of infantry by being under the orders of a general of infantry,
and by having had the command of a regiment and of a company.
It has been well said that 'he who has never learned to obey
cannot be a good commander.' The two are not the same, but the
good citizen ought to be capable of both; he should know how to govern
like a freeman, and how to obey like a freeman- these are the virtues of a citizen. And, although the temperance and justice of a ruler
are distinct from those of a subject, the virtue of a good man
will include both; for the virtue of the good man who is free
and also a subject, e.g., his justice, will not be one but will
comprise distinct kinds, the one qualifying him to rule, the
other to obey, and differing as the temperance and courage of
men and women differ. For a man would be thought a coward if he had no more courage than a courageous woman, and a woman would be
thought loquacious if she imposed no more restraint on her
conversation than the good man; and indeed their part in the
management of the household is different, for the duty of the
one is to acquire, and of the other to preserve. Practical wisdom
only is characteristic of the ruler: it would seem that all other virtues
must equally belong to ruler and subject. The virtue of the subject is certainly not wisdom, but only true opinion; he may be compared
to the maker of the flute, while his master is like the
flute-player or user of the flute.
From these considerations may be gathered the answer to the question, whether the virtue of the good man is the same as that of the good
citizen, or different, and how far the same, and how far
different.
Book 7, Chapter I
He who would duly inquire about the best form of a state ought first to
determine which is the most eligible life; while this remains uncertain the
best form of the state must also be uncertain; for, in the natural order of
things, those may be expected to lead the best life who are governed in the
best manner of which their circumstances admit. We ought therefore to
ascertain, first of all, which is the most generally eligible
life, and then whether the same life is or is not best for the state and
for individuals.
Assuming that enough has been already said in discussions outside the school
concerning the best life, we will now only repeat what is contained in them.
Certainly no one will dispute the propriety of that partition of goods which
separates them into three classes, viz., external goods, goods of the body, and
goods of the soul, or deny that the happy man must have all three. For no one
would maintain that he is happy who has not in him a particle of courage or
temperance or justice or prudence, who is afraid of every insect which flutters
past him, and will commit any crime, however great, in order to gratify his
lust of meat or drink, who will sacrifice his dearest friend for the sake of
half-a-farthing, and is as feeble and false in mind as a child or a madman.
These propositions are almost universally acknowledged as soon as they are
uttered, but men differ about the degree or relative superiority of this or
that good. Some think that a very moderate amount of virtue is enough, but set
no limit to their desires of wealth, property, power, reputation, and the like.
To whom we reply by an appeal to facts, which easily prove that mankind do not
acquire or preserve virtue by the help of external goods, but external goods by
the help of virtue, and that happiness, whether consisting in pleasure or
virtue, or both, is more often found with those who are most highly cultivated
in their mind and in their character, and have only a moderate share of
external goods, than among those who possess external goods to a useless extent
but are deficient in higher qualities; and this is not only matter of
experience, but, if reflected upon, will easily appear to be in accordance with
reason. For, whereas external goods have a limit, like any other instrument,
and all things useful are of such a nature that where there is too much of them
they must either do harm, or at any rate be of no use, to their possessors,
every good of the soul, the greater it is, is also of greater use, if the
epithet useful as well as noble is appropriate to such subjects. No proof is
required to show that the best state of one thing in relation to another
corresponds in degree of excellence to the interval between the natures of
which we say that these very states are states: so that, if the soul is more
noble than our possessions or our bodies, both absolutely and in relation to
us, it must be admitted that the best state of either has a similar ratio to
the other. Again, it is for the sake of the soul that goods external and goods
of the body are eligible at all, and all wise men ought to choose them for the
sake of the soul, and not the soul for the sake of them.
Let us acknowledge then that each one has just so much of happiness as he has
of virtue and wisdom, and of virtuous and wise action. God is a witness to us
of this truth, for he is happy and blessed, not by reason of any external good,
but in himself and by reason of his own nature. And herein of necessity lies
the difference between good fortune and happiness; for external goods come of
themselves, and chance is the author of them, but no one is just or temperate
by or through chance. In like manner, and by a similar train of argument, the
happy state may be shown to be that which is best and which acts rightly; and
rightly it cannot act without doing right actions, and neither individual nor
state can do right actions without virtue and wisdom. Thus the courage,
justice, and wisdom of a state have the same form and nature as the qualities
which give the individual who possesses them the name of just, wise, or
temperate.
Thus much may suffice by way of preface: for I could not avoid touching upon
these questions, neither could I go through all the arguments affecting them;
these are the business of another science.
Let us assume then that the best life, both for individuals and states, is the
life of virtue, when virtue has external goods enough for the performance of
good actions. If there are any who controvert our assertion, we will in this
treatise pass them over, and consider their objections hereafter.
From the Nicomachean Ethics (trans. Ross)
Book
1, Chapter 1
EVERY art and every inquiry, and similarly every action and
pursuit, is thought to aim at some good; and for this reason the good has
rightly been declared to be that at which all things aim. But a certain
difference is found among ends; some are activities, others are products apart
from the activities that produce them. Where there are ends apart from the
actions, it is the nature of the products to be better than the activities.
Now, as there are many actions, arts, and sciences, their ends also are many;
the end of the medical art is health, that of shipbuilding a vessel, that of
strategy victory, that of economics wealth. But where such arts fall under a
single capacity -- as bridle-making and the other arts concerned with the
equipment of horses fall under the art of riding, and this and every military
action under strategy, in the same way other arts fall under yet others -- in
all of these the ends of the master arts are to be preferred to all the
subordinate ends; for it is for the sake of the former that the latter are
pursued. It makes no difference whether the activities themselves are the ends
of the actions, or something else apart from the activities, as in the case of
the sciences just mentioned.
If, then, there is some end of the
things we do, which we desire for its own sake (everything else being desired
for the sake of this), and if we do not choose everything for the sake of
something else (for at that rate the process would go on to infinity, so that
our desire would be empty and vain), clearly this must be the good and the
chief good. Will not the knowledge of it, then, have a great influence on life?
Shall we not, like archers who have a mark to aim at, be more likely to hit
upon what is right? If so, we must try, in outline at least, to determine what
it is, and of which of the sciences or capacities it is the object. It would
seem to belong to the most authoritative art and that which is most truly the
master art. And politics appears to be of this nature; for it is this that
ordains which of the sciences should be studied in a state, and which each
class of citizens should learn and up to what point they should learn them; and
we see even the most highly esteemed of capacities to fall under this, e.g.
strategy, economics, rhetoric; now, since politics uses the rest of the
sciences, and since, again, it legislates as to what we are to do and what we
are to abstain from, the end of this science must include those of the others,
so that this end must be the good for man. For even if the end is the same for
a single man and for a state, that of the state seems at all events something
greater and more complete whether to attain or to preserve; though it is worth while to attain the end merely for one man, it is
finer and more godlike to attain it for a nation or for city-states. These,
then, are the ends at which our inquiry aims, since it is political science, in
one sense of that term.
Book
2, Chapter 1
VIRTUE, then, being of two kinds, intellectual and moral,
intellectual virtue in the main owes both its birth and its growth to teaching
(for which reason it requires experience and time), while moral virtue comes
about as a result of habit, whence also its name (ethike)
is one that is formed by a slight variation from the word ethos (habit). From
this it is also plain that none of the moral virtues arises in us by nature; for
nothing that exists by nature can form a habit contrary to its nature. For
instance the stone which by nature moves downwards cannot be habituated to move
upwards, not even if one tries to train it by throwing it up ten thousand
times; nor can fire be habituated to move downwards, nor can anything else that
by nature behaves in one way be trained to behave in another. Neither by
nature, then, nor contrary to nature do the virtues arise in us; rather we are
adapted by nature to receive them, and are made perfect by habit.
Again, of all the things that come to
us by nature we first acquire the potentiality and later exhibit the activity
(this is plain in the case of the senses; for it was not by often seeing or
often hearing that we got these senses, but on the contrary we had them before
we used them, and did not come to have them by using them); but the virtues we
get by first exercising them, as also happens in the case of the arts as well.
For the things we have to learn before we can do them, we learn by doing them,
e.g. men become builders by building and lyreplayers
by playing the lyre; so too we become just by doing just acts, temperate by
doing temperate acts, brave by doing brave acts.
This is confirmed by what happens in
states; for legislators make the citizens good by forming habits in them, and
this is the wish of every legislator, and those who do not effect it miss their
mark, and it is in this that a good constitution differs from a bad one.
Again, it is from the same causes and
by the same means that every virtue is both produced and destroyed, and
similarly every art; for it is from playing the lyre that both good and bad
lyre-players are produced. And the corresponding statement is true of builders
and of all the rest; men will be good or bad builders as a result of building
well or badly. For if this were not so, there would have been no need of a
teacher, but all men would have been born good or bad at their craft. This,
then, is the case with the virtues also; by doing the acts that we do in our
transactions with other men we become just or unjust, and by doing the acts
that we do in the presence of danger, and being habituated to feel fear or
confidence, we become brave or cowardly. The same is true of appetites and
feelings of anger; some men become temperate and good-tempered, others
self-indulgent and irascible, by behaving in one way or the other in the
appropriate circumstances. Thus, in one word, states of character arise out of
like activities. This is why the activities we exhibit must be of a certain
kind; it is because the states of character correspond to the differences
between these. It makes no small difference, then, whether we form habits of
one kind or of another from our very youth; it makes a very great difference,
or rather all the difference.
Book 6, Chapter 8
Political wisdom and practical
wisdom are the same state of mind, but their essence is not the
same. Of the wisdom concerned with the city, the practical
wisdom which plays a controlling part is legislative wisdom, while
that which is related to this as particulars to their universal is known
by the general name 'political wisdom'; this has to do with action and
deliberation, for a decree is a thing to be carried out in the form of an individual act. This is why the exponents of this art are
alone said to 'take part in politics'; for these alone 'do
things' as manual labourers 'do
things'.
Practical wisdom also is identified especially with that form of it
which is concerned with a man himself-with the individual; and this is known by the general name 'practical wisdom'; of the other
kinds one is called household management, another legislation,
the third politics, and of the latter one part is called
deliberative and the other judicial. Now knowing what is good
for oneself will be one kind of knowledge, but it is very
different from the other kinds; and the man who knows and concerns himself
with his own interests is thought to have practical wisdom, while politicians
are thought to be busybodies; hence the word of Euripides,
But how could I be wise, who might at ease,
Numbered among the army's multitude,
Have had an equal share?
For those
who aim too high and do too much.
Those who think thus seek their own good, and consider that one
ought to do so. From this opinion, then, has come the view that
such men have practical wisdom; yet perhaps one's own good
cannot exist without household management, nor without
a form of government. Further, how one should order one's own
affairs is not clear and needs inquiry.
What has been said is confirmed by the fact that while young men become
geometricians and mathematicians and wise in matters like these, it
is thought that a young man of practical wisdom cannot be found. The cause is that such wisdom is concerned not only with universals
but with particulars, which become familiar from experience,
but a young man has no experience, for it is length of time
that gives experience; indeed one might ask this question too,
why a boy may become a mathematician, but not a philosopher or
a physicist. It is because the objects of mathematics exist by
abstraction, while the first principles of these other subjects come
from experience, and because young men have no conviction about the latter but merely use the proper language, while the essence of
mathematical objects is plain enough to them?
Further, error in deliberation may be either about the universal or
about the particular; we may fall to know either that all water that weighs heavy is bad, or that this particular water weighs heavy.
That practical wisdom is not scientific knowledge is evident; for it
is, as has been said, concerned with the ultimate particular fact, since the thing to be done is of this nature. It is opposed, then, to
intuitive reason; for intuitive reason is of the limiting premisses, for which no reason can be
given, while practical wisdom is concerned with the ultimate particular,
which is the object not of scientific knowledge but of perception-not the perception of qualities peculiar to one sense but a perception
akin to that by which we perceive that the particular figure
before us is a triangle; for in that direction as well as in
that of the major premiss there will
be a limit. But this is rather perception than practical wisdom, though
it is another kind of perception than that of the qualities peculiar to each sense.
Book 10, Chapter 9
If these matters and the
virtues, and also friendship and pleasure, have been dealt with
sufficiently in outline, are we to suppose that our programme has reached its end? Surely, as the saying goes,
where there are things to be done the end is not to survey and
recognize the various things, but rather to do them; with
regard to virtue, then, it is not enough to know, but we must
try to have and use it, or try any other way there may be of
becoming good. Now if arguments were in themselves enough to make
men good, they would justly, as Theognis says, have
won very great rewards, and such rewards should have been
provided; but as things are, while they seem to have power to
encourage and stimulate the generous-minded among our youth,
and to make a character which is gently born, and a true lover
of what is noble, ready to be possessed by virtue, they are not able to encourage the many to nobility and goodness. For these do not
by nature obey the sense of shame, but only fear, and do not
abstain from bad acts because of their baseness but through
fear of punishment; living by passion they pursue their own
pleasures and the means to them, and and the opposite
pains, and have not even a conception of what is noble and
truly pleasant, since they have never tasted it. What argument
would remould such people? It is
hard, if not impossible, to remove by argument the traits that have long since been incorporated in the character; and perhaps we must
be content if, when all the influences by which we are thought
to become good are present, we get some tincture of virtue.
Now some think that we are made good by nature, others by habituation, others by teaching. Nature's part evidently does not depend on us,
but as a result of some divine causes is present in those who
are truly fortunate; while argument and teaching, we may
suspect, are not powerful with all men, but the soul of the
student must first have been cultivated by means of habits for
noble joy and noble hatred, like earth which is to nourish the
seed. For he who lives as passion directs will not hear argument that dissuades him, nor understand it if he does; and how can we
persuade one in such a state to change his ways? And in general
passion seems to yield not to argument but to force. The
character, then, must somehow be there already with a kinship
to virtue, loving what is noble and hating what is base.
But it is difficult to get from youth up a right training for virtue if one has not been brought up under right laws; for to live
temperately and hardily is not pleasant to most people,
especially when they are young. For this reason their nurture
and occupations should be fixed by law; for they will not be
painful when they have become customary. But it is surely not
enough that when they are young they should get the right nurture and attention; since they must, even when they are grown up, practise and be habituated to them, we
shall need laws for this as well, and generally speaking to
cover the whole of life; for most people obey necessity rather than
argument, and punishments rather than the sense of what is noble.
This is why some think that legislators ought to stimulate men to
virtue and urge them forward by the motive of the noble, on the assumption that those who have been well advanced by the formation of habits
will attend to such influences; and that punishments and
penalties should be imposed on those who disobey and are of
inferior nature, while the incurably bad should be completely
banished. A good man (they think), since he lives with his mind
fixed on what is noble, will submit to argument, while a bad
man, whose desire is for pleasure, is corrected by pain like a beast of burden. This is, too, why they say the pains inflicted should
be those that are most opposed to the pleasures such men love.
However that may be, if (as we have said) the man who is to be good
must be well trained and habituated, and go on to spend his time in worthy occupations and neither willingly nor unwillingly do bad
actions, and if this can be brought about if men live in
accordance with a sort of reason and right order, provided this
has force,-if this be so, the paternal command indeed has not
the required force or compulsive power (nor in general has the
command of one man, unless he be a king or something similar),
but the law has compulsive power, while it is at the same time a
rule proceeding from a sort of practical wisdom and reason. And while people hate men who oppose their impulses, even if they oppose
them rightly, the law in its ordaining of what is good is not
burdensome.
In the Spartan state alone, or almost alone, the legislator seems to
have paid attention to questions of nurture and occupations; in most states such matters have been neglected, and each man lives as he
pleases, Cyclops-fashion, 'to his own wife and children dealing
law'. Now it is best that there should be a public and proper
care for such matters; but if they are neglected by the
community it would seem right for each man to help his children
and friends towards virtue, and that they should have the
power, or at least the will, to do this.
It would seem from what has been said that he can do this better if
he makes himself capable of legislating. For public control is plainly effected by laws, and good control by good laws; whether written
or unwritten would seem to make no difference, nor whether they
are laws providing for the education of individuals or of
groups-any more than it does in the case of music or gymnastics
and other such pursuits. For as in cities laws and prevailing
types of character have force, so in households do the injunctions and
the habits of the father, and these have even more because of the tie of blood and the benefits he confers; for the children start with
a natural affection and disposition to obey. Further, private
education has an advantage over public, as private medical
treatment has; for while in general rest and abstinence from
food are good for a man in a fever, for a particular man they
may not be; and a boxer presumably does not prescribe the same style
of fighting to all his pupils. It would seem, then, that the detail is worked out with more precision if the control is private; for
each person is more likely to get what suits his case.
But the details can be best looked after, one by one, by a doctor or
gymnastic instructor or any one else who has the
general knowledge of what is good for every one or for people
of a certain kind (for the sciences both are said to be, and
are, concerned with what is universal); not but what some
particular detail may perhaps be well looked after by an unscientific person, if he has studied accurately in the light of experience
what happens in each case, just as some people seem to be their
own best doctors, though they could give no help to any one else. None the less, it will perhaps be
agreed that if a man does wish to become master of an art or science he must go to the universal, and come to know it as well as
possible; for, as we have said, it is with this that the sciences
are concerned.
And surely he who wants to make men, whether many or few, better by
his care must try to become capable of legislating, if it is through laws that we can become good. For to get any one whatever-any one who is put before us-into the right
condition is not for the first chance comer; if any one can do it, it is the man who knows, just as in
medicine and all other matters which give scope for care and
prudence.
Must we not, then, next examine whence or how one can learn how to
legislate? Is it, as in all other cases, from statesmen? Certainly it was thought to be a part of statesmanship. Or is a difference
apparent between statesmanship and the other sciences and arts?
In the others the same people are found offering to teach the
arts and practising them, e.g. doctors
or painters; but while the sophists profess to teach politics, it
is practised not by any of them but by the
politicians, who would seem to do so by dint of a certain skill
and experience rather than of thought; for they are not found
either writing or speaking about such matters (though it were a
nobler occupation perhaps than composing speeches for the law-courts and the assembly), nor again are they found to have made statesmen
of their own sons or any other of their friends. But it was to
be expected that they should if they could; for there is
nothing better than such a skill that they could have left to
their cities, or could prefer to have for themselves, or,
therefore, for those dearest to them. Still, experience seems
to contribute not a little; else they could not have become politicians by familiarity with politics; and so it seems that those who aim
at knowing about the art of politics need experience as well.
But those of the sophists who profess the art seem to be very far from
teaching it. For, to put the matter generally, they do not even know what kind of thing it is nor what kinds
of things it is about; otherwise they would not have classed it
as identical with rhetoric or even inferior to it, nor have thought
it easy to legislate by collecting the laws that are thought
well of; they say it is possible to select the best laws, as though
even the selection did not demand intelligence and as though right judgement were not the greatest thing, as in matters of
music. For while people experienced in any department judge
rightly the works produced in it, and understand by what means
or how they are achieved, and what harmonizes with what, the
inexperienced must be content if they do not fail to see whether
the work has been well or ill made-as in the case of painting. Now
laws are as it were the' works' of the political art; how then can one
learn from them to be a legislator, or judge which are best? Even medical men do not seem to be made by a study of text-books. Yet people
try, at any rate, to state not only the treatments, but also
how particular classes of people can be cured and should be
treated-distinguishing the various habits of body; but while
this seems useful to experienced people, to the inexperienced
it is valueless. Surely, then, while collections of laws, and
of constitutions also, may be serviceable to those who can study them and judge what is good or bad and what enactments suit what
circumstances, those who go through such collections without a practised faculty will not have right judgement (unless it be as a spontaneous gift of nature), though they may perhaps become more intelligent in such matters.
Now our predecessors have left the subject of legislation to us unexamined;
it is perhaps best, therefore, that we should ourselves study it,
and in general study the question of the constitution, in order to complete
to the best of our ability our philosophy of human nature. First, then,
if anything has been said well in detail by earlier thinkers, let us
try to review it; then in the light of the constitutions we have collected let us study what sorts of influence preserve and destroy states,
and what sorts preserve or destroy the particular kinds of
constitution, and to what causes it is due that some are well
and others ill administered. When these have been studied we
shall perhaps be more likely to see with a comprehensive view,
which constitution is best, and how each must be ordered, and what laws
and customs it must use, if it is to be at its best. Let us make a beginning
of our discussion.