Book I 1

RHETORIC is the counterpart of Dialectic. Both alike are concerned with such things as come, more or less, within the general ken of all men and elong to no definite science. !ccordingl" all men make use, more or less, of oth# for to a certain e$tent all men attempt to discuss statements and to maintain them, to defend themsel%es and to attack others. Ordinar" people do this either at random or through practice and from ac&uired ha it. Both wa"s eing possi le, the su 'ect can plainl" e handled s"stematicall", for it is possi le to in&uire the reason wh" some speakers succeed through practice and others spontaneousl"# and e%er" one will at once agree that such an in&uir" is the function of an art. (ow, the framers of the current treatises on rhetoric ha%e constructed ut a small portion of that art. The modes of persuasion are the onl" true constituents of the art) e%er"thing else is merel" accessor". These writers, howe%er, sa" nothing a out enth"memes, which are the su stance of rhetorical persuasion, ut deal mainl" with non*essentials. The arousing of pre'udice, pit", anger, and similar emotions has nothing to do with the essential facts, ut is merel" a personal appeal to the man who is 'udging the case. Conse&uentl" if the rules for trials which are now laid down some states*especiall" in well*go%erned states*were applied e%er"where, such people would ha%e nothing to sa". !ll men, no dou t, think that the laws should prescri e such rules, ut some, as in the court of !reopagus, gi%e practical effect to their thoughts and for id talk a out non*essentials. This is sound law and custom. It is not right to per%ert the 'udge " mo%ing him to anger or en%" or pit"*one might as well warp a carpenter+s rule efore using it. !gain, a litigant has clearl" nothing to do ut to show that the alleged fact is so or is not so, that it has or has not happened. !s to whether a thing is important or unimportant, 'ust or un'ust, the 'udge must surel" refuse to take his instructions from the litigants) he must decide for himself all such points as the law*gi%er has not alread" defined for him. (ow, it is of great moment that well*drawn laws should themsel%es define all the points the" possi l" can and lea%e as few as ma" e to the decision of the 'udges# and this for se%eral reasons. ,irst, to find one man, or a few men, who are sensi le persons and capa le of legislating and administering 'ustice is easier than to find a large num er. (e$t, laws are made after long consideration, whereas decisions in the courts are gi%en at short notice, which makes it hard for those who tr" the case to satisf" the claims of 'ustice and e$pedienc". The weightiest reason of all is that the decision of the lawgi%er is not particular ut prospecti%e and general, whereas mem ers of the assem l" and the 'ur" find it their dut" to decide on definite cases rought efore them. The" will often ha%e allowed themsel%es to e so much influenced " feelings of friendship or hatred or self*interest that the" lose an" clear %ision of the truth and ha%e their 'udgement o scured " considerations of personal pleasure or pain. In general, then, the 'udge should, we sa", e allowed to decide as few things as possi le. But &uestions as to whether something has happened or has not happened, will e or will not e, is or is not, must of necessit" e left to the 'udge, since the lawgi%er cannot foresee them. If this is so, it is e%ident that an" one who la"s down rules a out other matters, such as what must e the contents of the -introduction+ or the -narration+ or an" of the other di%isions of a speech, is theori.ing a out non*essentials as if the" elonged to the art. The onl" &uestion with which these writers here deal is how to put the 'udge into a gi%en frame of mind. ! out the orator+s proper modes of persuasion the" ha%e nothing to tell us# nothing, that is, a out how to gain skill in enth"memes. Hence it comes that, although the same s"stematic principles appl" to political as to forensic orator", and although the former is a no ler usiness, and fitter for a citi.en, than that which concerns the relations of pri%ate indi%iduals, these authors sa" nothing a out political orator", ut tr", one and all, to write treatises on the wa" to plead in court. The reason for this is that in political orator" there is less inducement to talk a out nonessentials. /olitical orator" is less gi%en to unscrupulous practices than forensic, ecause it treats of wider issues. In a political de ate the man who is forming a 'udgement is making a decision a out his own %ital interests. There is no need, therefore, to pro%e an"thing e$cept

that the facts are what the supporter of a measure maintains the" are. In forensic orator" this is not enough# to conciliate the listener is what pa"s here. It is other people+s affairs that are to e decided, so that the 'udges, intent on their own satisfaction and listening with partialit", surrender themsel%es to the disputants instead of 'udging etween them. Hence in man" places, as we ha%e said alread", irrele%ant speaking is for idden in the law*courts) in the pu lic assem l" those who ha%e to form a 'udgement are themsel%es well a le to guard against that. It is clear, then, that rhetorical stud", in its strict sense, is concerned with the modes of persuasion. /ersuasion is clearl" a sort of demonstration, since we are most full" persuaded when we consider a thing to ha%e een demonstrated. The orator+s demonstration is an enth"meme, and this is, in general, the most effecti%e of the modes of persuasion. The enth"meme is a sort of s"llogism, and the consideration of s"llogisms of all kinds, without distinction, is the usiness of dialectic, either of dialectic as a whole or of one of its ranches. It follows plainl", therefore, that he who is est a le to see how and from what elements a s"llogism is produced will also e est skilled in the enth"meme, when he has further learnt what its su 'ect*matter is and in what respects it differs from the s"llogism of strict logic. The true and the appro$imatel" true are apprehended " the same facult"# it ma" also e noted that men ha%e a sufficient natural instinct for what is true, and usuall" do arri%e at the truth. Hence the man who makes a good guess at truth is likel" to make a good guess at pro a ilities. It has now een shown that the ordinar" writers on rhetoric treat of non*essentials# it has also een shown wh" the" ha%e inclined more towards the forensic ranch of orator". Rhetoric is useful 012 ecause things that are true and things that are 'ust ha%e a natural tendenc" to pre%ail o%er their opposites, so that if the decisions of 'udges are not what the" ought to e, the defeat must e due to the speakers themsel%es, and the" must e lamed accordingl". 3oreo%er, 042 efore some audiences not e%en the possession of the e$actest knowledge will make it eas" for what we sa" to produce con%iction. ,or argument ased on knowledge implies instruction, and there are people whom one cannot instruct. Here, then, we must use, as our modes of persuasion and argument, notions possessed " e%er" od", as we o ser%ed in the Topics when dealing with the wa" to handle a popular audience. ,urther, 052 we must e a le to emplo" persuasion, 'ust as strict reasoning can e emplo"ed, on opposite sides of a &uestion, not in order that we ma" in practice emplo" it in oth wa"s 0for we must not make people elie%e what is wrong2, ut in order that we ma" see clearl" what the facts are, and that, if another man argues unfairl", we on our part ma" e a le to confute him. (o other of the arts draws opposite conclusions) dialectic and rhetoric alone do this. Both these arts draw opposite conclusions impartiall". (e%ertheless, the underl"ing facts do not lend themsel%es e&uall" well to the contrar" %iews. (o# things that are true and things that are etter are, " their nature, practicall" alwa"s easier to pro%e and easier to elie%e in. !gain, 062 it is a surd to hold that a man ought to e ashamed of eing una le to defend himself with his lim s, ut not of eing una le to defend himself with speech and reason, when the use of rational speech is more distincti%e of a human eing than the use of his lim s. !nd if it e o 'ected that one who uses such power of speech un'ustl" might do great harm, that is a charge which ma" e made in common against all good things e$cept %irtue, and a o%e all against the things that are most useful, as strength, health, wealth, generalship. ! man can confer the greatest of enefits " a right use of these, and inflict the greatest of in'uries " using them wrongl". It is clear, then, that rhetoric is not ound up with a single definite class of su 'ects, ut is as uni%ersal as dialectic# it is clear, also, that it is useful. It is clear, further, that its function is not simpl" to succeed in persuading, ut rather to disco%er the means of coming as near such success as the circumstances of each particular case allow. In this it resem les all other arts. ,or e$ample, it is not the function of medicine simpl" to make a man &uite health", ut to put him as far as ma" e on the road to health# it is possi le to gi%e e$cellent treatment e%en to those who can ne%er en'o" sound health. ,urthermore, it is plain that it is the function of one and the same art to discern the real and the apparent means of persuasion, 'ust as it is the function of dialectic to discern the real and the apparent s"llogism. 7hat makes a man a -sophist+ is not his facult", ut his moral purpose. In rhetoric, howe%er, the term -rhetorician+ ma" descri e either the speaker+s knowledge of the art, or his moral purpose. In dialectic it is different) a man is a -sophist+ ecause he has a certain kind of moral purpose, a -dialectician+ in

respect, not of his moral purpose, ut of his facult". 8et us now tr" to gi%e some account of the s"stematic principles of Rhetoric itself*of the right method and means of succeeding in the o 'ect we set efore us. 7e must make as it were a fresh start, and efore going further define what rhetoric is.

2
Rhetoric ma" e defined as the facult" of o ser%ing in an" gi%en case the a%aila le means of persuasion. This is not a function of an" other art. E%er" other art can instruct or persuade a out its own particular su 'ect*matter# for instance, medicine a out what is health" and unhealth", geometr" a out the properties of magnitudes, arithmetic a out num ers, and the same is true of the other arts and sciences. But rhetoric we look upon as the power of o ser%ing the means of persuasion on almost an" su 'ect presented to us# and that is wh" we sa" that, in its technical character, it is not concerned with an" special or definite class of su 'ects. Of the modes of persuasion some elong strictl" to the art of rhetoric and some do not. B" the latter I mean such things as are not supplied " the speaker ut are there at the outset*witnesses, e%idence gi%en under torture, written contracts, and so on. B" the former I mean such as we can oursel%es construct " means of the principles of rhetoric. The one kind has merel" to e used, the other has to e in%ented. Of the modes of persuasion furnished " the spoken word there are three kinds. The first kind depends on the personal character of the speaker# the second on putting the audience into a certain frame of mind# the third on the proof, or apparent proof, pro%ided " the words of the speech itself. /ersuasion is achie%ed " the speaker+s personal character when the speech is so spoken as to make us think him credi le. 7e elie%e good men more full" and more readil" than others) this is true generall" whate%er the &uestion is, and a solutel" true where e$act certaint" is impossi le and opinions are di%ided. This kind of persuasion, like the others, should e achie%ed " what the speaker sa"s, not " what people think of his character efore he egins to speak. It is not true, as some writers assume in their treatises on rhetoric, that the personal goodness re%ealed " the speaker contri utes nothing to his power of persuasion# on the contrar", his character ma" almost e called the most effecti%e means of persuasion he possesses. 9econdl", persuasion ma" come through the hearers, when the speech stirs their emotions. Our 'udgements when we are pleased and friendl" are not the same as when we are pained and hostile. It is towards producing these effects, as we maintain, that present*da" writers on rhetoric direct the whole of their efforts. This su 'ect shall e treated in detail when we come to speak of the emotions. Thirdl", persuasion is effected through the speech itself when we ha%e pro%ed a truth or an apparent truth " means of the persuasi%e arguments suita le to the case in &uestion. There are, then, these three means of effecting persuasion. The man who is to e in command of them must, it is clear, e a le 012 to reason logicall", 042 to understand human character and goodness in their %arious forms, and 052 to understand the emotions*that is, to name them and descri e them, to know their causes and the wa" in which the" are e$cited. It thus appears that rhetoric is an offshoot of dialectic and also of ethical studies. Ethical studies ma" fairl" e called political# and for this reason rhetoric mas&uerades as political science, and the professors of it as political e$perts*sometimes from want of education, sometimes from ostentation, sometimes owing to other human failings. !s a matter of fact, it is a ranch of dialectic and similar to it, as we said at the outset. (either rhetoric nor dialectic is the scientific stud" of an" one separate su 'ect) oth are faculties for pro%iding arguments. This is perhaps a sufficient account of their scope and of how the" are related to each other. 7ith regard to the persuasion achie%ed " proof or apparent proof) 'ust as in dialectic there is induction on the one hand and s"llogism or apparent s"llogism on the other, so it is in rhetoric. The e$ample is an induction, the enth"meme is a s"llogism, and the apparent enth"meme is an apparent s"llogism. I call the enth"meme a rhetorical s"llogism, and the e$ample a rhetorical induction. E%er" one who effects persuasion through proof does in fact use either enth"memes or e$amples) there is no other wa". !nd

since e%er" one who pro%es an"thing at all is ound to use either s"llogisms or inductions 0and this is clear to us from the !nal"tics2, it must follow that enth"memes are s"llogisms and e$amples are inductions. The difference etween e$ample and enth"meme is made plain " the passages in the Topics where induction and s"llogism ha%e alread" een discussed. 7hen we ase the proof of a proposition on a num er of similar cases, this is induction in dialectic, e$ample in rhetoric# when it is shown that, certain propositions eing true, a further and &uite distinct proposition must also e true in conse&uence, whether in%aria l" or usuall", this is called s"llogism in dialectic, enth"meme in rhetoric. It is plain also that each of these t"pes of orator" has its ad%antages. T"pes of orator", I sa") for what has een said in the 3ethodics applies e&uall" well here# in some oratorical st"les e$amples pre%ail, in others enth"memes# and in like manner, some orators are etter at the former and some at the latter. 9peeches that rel" on e$amples are as persuasi%e as the other kind, ut those which rel" on enth"memes e$cite the louder applause. The sources of e$amples and enth"memes, and their proper uses, we will discuss later. Our ne$t step is to define the processes themsel%es more clearl". ! statement is persuasi%e and credi le either ecause it is directl" self*e%ident or ecause it appears to e pro%ed from other statements that are so. In either case it is persuasi%e ecause there is some od" whom it persuades. But none of the arts theori.e a out indi%idual cases. 3edicine, for instance, does not theori.e a out what will help to cure 9ocrates or Callias, ut onl" a out what will help to cure an" or all of a gi%en class of patients) this alone is usiness) indi%idual cases are so infinitel" %arious that no s"stematic knowledge of them is possi le. In the same wa" the theor" of rhetoric is concerned not with what seems pro a le to a gi%en indi%idual like 9ocrates or Hippias, ut with what seems pro a le to men of a gi%en t"pe# and this is true of dialectic also. Dialectic does not construct its s"llogisms out of an" hapha.ard materials, such as the fancies of cra." people, ut out of materials that call for discussion# and rhetoric, too, draws upon the regular su 'ects of de ate. The dut" of rhetoric is to deal with such matters as we deli erate upon without arts or s"stems to guide us, in the hearing of persons who cannot take in at a glance a complicated argument, or follow a long chain of reasoning. The su 'ects of our deli eration are such as seem to present us with alternati%e possi ilities) a out things that could not ha%e een, and cannot now or in the future e, other than the" are, no od" who takes them to e of this nature wastes his time in deli eration. It is possi le to form s"llogisms and draw conclusions from the results of pre%ious s"llogisms# or, on the other hand, from premisses which ha%e not een thus pro%ed, and at the same time are so little accepted that the" call for proof. Reasonings of the former kind will necessaril" e hard to follow owing to their length, for we assume an audience of untrained thinkers# those of the latter kind will fail to win assent, ecause the" are ased on premisses that are not generall" admitted or elie%ed. The enth"meme and the e$ample must, then, deal with what is in the main contingent, the e$ample eing an induction, and the enth"meme a s"llogism, a out such matters. The enth"meme must consist of few propositions, fewer often than those which make up the normal s"llogism. ,or if an" of these propositions is a familiar fact, there is no need e%en to mention it# the hearer adds it himself. Thus, to show that Dorieus has een %ictor in a contest for which the pri.e is a crown, it is enough to sa" -,or he has een %ictor in the Ol"mpic games+, without adding -!nd in the Ol"mpic games the pri.e is a crown+, a fact which e%er" od" knows. There are few facts of the -necessar"+ t"pe that can form the asis of rhetorical s"llogisms. 3ost of the things a out which we make decisions, and into which therefore we in&uire, present us with alternati%e possi ilities. ,or it is a out our actions that we deli erate and in&uire, and all our actions ha%e a contingent character# hardl" an" of them are determined " necessit". !gain, conclusions that state what is merel" usual or possi le must e drawn from premisses that do the same, 'ust as -necessar"+ conclusions must e drawn from -necessar"+ premisses# this too is clear to us from the !nal"tics. It is e%ident, therefore, that the propositions forming the asis of enth"memes, though some of them ma" e -necessar"+, will most of them e onl" usuall" true. (ow the materials of enth"memes are /ro a ilities and 9igns, which we can see must correspond respecti%el" with the propositions that are generall" and those that are necessaril" true. ! /ro a ilit" is a thing that usuall" happens# not, howe%er, as some definitions would suggest, an"thing whate%er that usuall" happens, ut onl" if it

elongs to the class of the -contingent+ or -%aria le+. It ears the same relation to that in respect of which it is pro a le as the uni%ersal ears to the particular. Of 9igns, one kind ears the same relation to the statement it supports as the particular ears to the uni%ersal, the other the same as the uni%ersal ears to the particular. The infalli le kind is a -complete proof+ 0tekmerhiou2# the falli le kind has no specific name. B" infalli le signs I mean those on which s"llogisms proper ma" e ased) and this shows us wh" this kind of 9ign is called -complete proof+) when people think that what the" ha%e said cannot e refuted, the" then think that the" are ringing forward a -complete proof+, meaning that the matter has now een demonstrated and completed 0peperhasmeuou2# for the word -perhas+ has the same meaning 0of -end+ or - oundar"+2 as the word -tekmarh+ in the ancient tongue. (ow the one kind of 9ign 0that which ears to the proposition it supports the relation of particular to uni%ersal2 ma" e illustrated thus. 9uppose it were said, -The fact that 9ocrates was wise and 'ust is a sign that the wise are 'ust+. Here we certainl" ha%e a 9ign# ut e%en though the proposition e true, the argument is refuta le, since it does not form a s"llogism. 9uppose, on the other hand, it were said, -The fact that he has a fe%er is a sign that he is ill+, or, -The fact that she is gi%ing milk is a sign that she has latel" orne a child+. Here we ha%e the infalli le kind of 9ign, the onl" kind that constitutes a complete proof, since it is the onl" kind that, if the particular statement is true, is irrefuta le. The other kind of 9ign, that which ears to the proposition it supports the relation of uni%ersal to particular, might e illustrated " sa"ing, -The fact that he reathes fast is a sign that he has a fe%er+. This argument also is refuta le, e%en if the statement a out the fast reathing e true, since a man ma" reathe hard without ha%ing a fe%er. It has, then, een stated a o%e what is the nature of a /ro a ilit", of a 9ign, and of a complete proof, and what are the differences etween them. In the !nal"tics a more e$plicit description has een gi%en of these points# it is there shown wh" some of these reasonings can e put into s"llogisms and some cannot. The -e$ample+ has alread" een descri ed as one kind of induction# and the special nature of the su 'ect*matter that distinguishes it from the other kinds has also een stated a o%e. Its relation to the proposition it supports is not that of part to whole, nor whole to part, nor whole to whole, ut of part to part, or like to like. 7hen two statements are of the same order, ut one is more familiar than the other, the former is an -e$ample+. The argument ma", for instance, e that Dion"sius, in asking as he does for a od"guard, is scheming to make himself a despot. ,or in the past /eisistratus kept asking for a od"guard in order to carr" out such a scheme, and did make himself a despot as soon as he got it# and so did Theagenes at 3egara# and in the same wa" all other instances known to the speaker are made into e$amples, in order to show what is not "et known, that Dion"sius has the same purpose in making the same re&uest) all these eing instances of the one general principle, that a man who asks for a od"guard is scheming to make himself a despot. 7e ha%e now descri ed the sources of those means of persuasion which are popularl" supposed to e demonstrati%e. There is an important distinction etween two sorts of enth"memes that has een wholl" o%erlooked " almost e%er" od"*one that also su sists etween the s"llogisms treated of in dialectic. One sort of enth"meme reall" elongs to rhetoric, as one sort of s"llogism reall" elongs to dialectic# ut the other sort reall" elongs to other arts and faculties, whether to those we alread" e$ercise or to those we ha%e not "et ac&uired. 3issing this distinction, people fail to notice that the more correctl" the" handle their particular su 'ect the further the" are getting awa" from pure rhetoric or dialectic. This statement will e clearer if e$pressed more full". I mean that the proper su 'ects of dialectical and rhetorical s"llogisms are the things with which we sa" the regular or uni%ersal 8ines of !rgument are concerned, that is to sa" those lines of argument that appl" e&uall" to &uestions of right conduct, natural science, politics, and man" other things that ha%e nothing to do with one another. Take, for instance, the line of argument concerned with -the more or less+. On this line of argument it is e&uall" eas" to ase a s"llogism or enth"meme a out an" of what ne%ertheless are essentiall" disconnected su 'ects*right conduct, natural science, or an"thing else whate%er. But there are also those special 8ines of !rgument which are ased on such propositions as appl" onl" to particular groups or classes of things. Thus there are propositions a out natural science on which it is impossi le to ase an" enth"meme or s"llogism a out ethics, and other propositions a out ethics on which nothing can e ased a out natural science.

The same principle applies throughout. The general 8ines of !rgument ha%e no special su 'ect*matter, and therefore will not increase our understanding of an" particular class of things. On the other hand, the etter the selection one makes of propositions suita le for special 8ines of !rgument, the nearer one comes, unconsciousl", to setting up a science that is distinct from dialectic and rhetoric. One ma" succeed in stating the re&uired principles, ut one+s science will e no longer dialectic or rhetoric, ut the science to which the principles thus disco%ered elong. 3ost enth"memes are in fact ased upon these particular or special 8ines of !rgument# comparati%el" few on the common or general kind. !s in the therefore, so in this work, we must distinguish, in dealing with enth"memes, the special and the general 8ines of !rgument on which the" are to e founded. B" special 8ines of !rgument I mean the propositions peculiar to each se%eral class of things, " general those common to all classes alike. 7e ma" egin with the special 8ines of !rgument. But, first of all, let us classif" rhetoric into its %arieties. Ha%ing distinguished these we ma" deal with them one " one, and tr" to disco%er the elements of which each is composed, and the propositions each must emplo".

3
Rhetoric falls into three di%isions, determined " the three classes of listeners to speeches. ,or of the three elements in speech*making:speaker, su 'ect, and person addressed:it is the last one, the hearer, that determines the speech+s end and o 'ect. The hearer must e either a 'udge, with a decision to make a out things past or future, or an o ser%er. ! mem er of the assem l" decides a out future e%ents, a 'ur"man a out past e%ents) while those who merel" decide on the orator+s skill are o ser%ers. ,rom this it follows that there are three di%isions of orator"*012 political, 042 forensic, and 052 the ceremonial orator" of displa". /olitical speaking urges us either to do or not to do something) one of these two courses is alwa"s taken " pri%ate counsellors, as well as " men who address pu lic assem lies. ,orensic speaking either attacks or defends some od") one or other of these two things must alwa"s e done " the parties in a case. The ceremonial orator" of displa" either praises or censures some od". These three kinds of rhetoric refer to three different kinds of time. The political orator is concerned with the future) it is a out things to e done hereafter that he ad%ises, for or against. The part" in a case at law is concerned with the past# one man accuses the other, and the other defends himself, with reference to things alread" done. The ceremonial orator is, properl" speaking, concerned with the present, since all men praise or lame in %iew of the state of things e$isting at the time, though the" often find it useful also to recall the past and to make guesses at the future. Rhetoric has three distinct ends in %iew, one for each of its three kinds. The political orator aims at esta lishing the e$pedienc" or the harmfulness of a proposed course of action# if he urges its acceptance, he does so on the ground that it will do good# if he urges its re'ection, he does so on the ground that it will do harm# and all other points, such as whether the proposal is 'ust or un'ust, honoura le or dishonoura le, he rings in as su sidiar" and relati%e to this main consideration. /arties in a law*case aim at esta lishing the 'ustice or in'ustice of some action, and the" too ring in all other points as su sidiar" and relati%e to this one. Those who praise or attack a man aim at pro%ing him worth" of honour or the re%erse, and the" too treat all other considerations with reference to this one. That the three kinds of rhetoric do aim respecti%el" at the three ends we ha%e mentioned is shown " the fact that speakers will sometimes not tr" to esta lish an"thing else. Thus, the litigant will sometimes not den" that a thing has happened or that he has done harm. But that he is guilt" of in'ustice he will ne%er admit# otherwise there would e no need of a trial. 9o too, political orators often make an" concession short of admitting that the" are recommending their hearers to take an ine$pedient course or not to take an e$pedient one. The &uestion whether it is not un'ust for a cit" to ensla%e its innocent neigh ours often does not trou le them at all. In like manner those who praise or censure a man do not consider whether his acts ha%e een e$pedient or not, ut often make it a ground of actual praise that he has neglected his own interest to do what was honoura le. Thus, the" praise !chilles ecause he championed his fallen friend /atroclus, though he knew that this meant death, and that otherwise he need not die) "et while to die thus was the no ler thing for him to do, the e$pedient

thing was to li%e on. It is e%ident from what has een said that it is these three su 'ects, more than an" others, a out which the orator must e a le to ha%e propositions at his command. (ow the propositions of Rhetoric are Complete /roofs, /ro a ilities, and 9igns. E%er" kind of s"llogism is composed of propositions, and the enth"meme is a particular kind of s"llogism composed of the aforesaid propositions. 9ince onl" possi le actions, and not impossi le ones, can e%er ha%e een done in the past or the present, and since things which ha%e not occurred, or will not occur, also cannot ha%e een done or e going to e done, it is necessar" for the political, the forensic, and the ceremonial speaker alike to e a le to ha%e at their command propositions a out the possi le and the impossi le, and a out whether a thing has or has not occurred, will or will not occur. ,urther, all men, in gi%ing praise or lame, in urging us to accept or re'ect proposals for action, in accusing others or defending themsel%es, attempt not onl" to pro%e the points mentioned ut also to show that the good or the harm, the honour or disgrace, the 'ustice or in'ustice, is great or small, either a solutel" or relati%el"# and therefore it is plain that we must also ha%e at our command propositions a out greatness or smallness and the greater or the lesser*propositions oth uni%ersal and particular. Thus, we must e a le to sa" which is the greater or lesser good, the greater or lesser act of 'ustice or in'ustice# and so on. 9uch, then, are the su 'ects regarding which we are ine%ita l" ound to master the propositions rele%ant to them. 7e must now discuss each particular class of these su 'ects in turn, namel" those dealt with in political, in ceremonial, and lastl" in legal, orator".

4
,irst, then, we must ascertain what are the kinds of things, good or ad, a out which the political orator offers counsel. ,or he does not deal with all things, ut onl" with such as ma" or ma" not take place. Concerning things which e$ist or will e$ist ine%ita l", or which cannot possi l" e$ist or take place, no counsel can e gi%en. (or, again, can counsel e gi%en a out the whole class of things which ma" or ma" not take place# for this class includes some good things that occur naturall", and some that occur " accident# and a out these it is useless to offer counsel. Clearl" counsel can onl" e gi%en on matters a out which people deli erate# matters, namel", that ultimatel" depend on oursel%es, and which we ha%e it in our power to set going. ,or we turn a thing o%er in our mind until we ha%e reached the point of seeing whether we can do it or not. (ow to enumerate and classif" accuratel" the usual su 'ects of pu lic usiness, and further to frame, as far as possi le, true definitions of them is a task which we must not attempt on the present occasion. ,or it does not elong to the art of rhetoric, ut to a more instructi%e art and a more real ranch of knowledge# and as it is, rhetoric has een gi%en a far wider su 'ect*matter than strictl" elongs to it. The truth is, as indeed we ha%e said alread", that rhetoric is a com ination of the science of logic and of the ethical ranch of politics# and it is partl" like dialectic, partl" like sophistical reasoning. But the more we tr" to make either dialectic rhetoric not, what the" reall" are, practical faculties, ut sciences, the more we shall inad%ertentl" e destro"ing their true nature# for we shall e re*fashioning them and shall e passing into the region of sciences dealing with definite su 'ects rather than simpl" with words and forms of reasoning. E%en here, howe%er, we will mention those points which it is of practical importance to distinguish, their fuller treatment falling naturall" to political science. The main matters on which all men deli erate and on which political speakers make speeches are some fi%e in num er) wa"s and means, war and peace, national defence, imports and e$ports, and legislation. !s to 7a"s and 3eans, then, the intending speaker will need to know the num er and e$tent of the countr"+s sources of re%enue, so that, if an" is eing o%erlooked, it ma" e added, and, if an" is defecti%e, it ma" e increased. ,urther, he should know all the e$penditure of the countr", in order that, if an" part of it is superfluous, it ma" e a olished, or, if an" is too large, it ma" e reduced. ,or men ecome richer not onl" " increasing their e$isting wealth ut also " reducing their e$penditure. !

comprehensi%e %iew of these &uestions cannot e gained solel" from e$perience in home affairs# in order to ad%ise on such matters a man must e keenl" interested in the methods worked out in other lands. !s to /eace and 7ar, he must know the e$tent of the militar" strength of his countr", oth actual and potential, and also the mature of that actual and potential strength# and further, what wars his countr" has waged, and how it has waged them. He must know these facts not onl" a out his own countr", ut also a out neigh ouring countries# and also a out countries with which war is likel", in order that peace ma" e maintained with those stronger than his own, and that his own ma" ha%e power to make war or not against those that are weaker. He should know, too, whether the militar" power of another countr" is like or unlike that of his own# for this is a matter that ma" affect their relati%e strength. 7ith the same end in %iew he must, esides, ha%e studied the wars of other countries as well as those of his own, and the wa" the" ended# similar causes are likel" to ha%e similar results. 7ith regard to (ational Defence) he ought to know all a out the methods of defence in actual use, such as the strength and character of the defensi%e force and the positions of the forts*this last means that he must e well ac&uainted with the lie of the countr"*in order that a garrison ma" e increased if it is too small or remo%ed if it is not wanted, and that the strategic points ma" e guarded with special care. 7ith regard to the ,ood 9uppl") he must know what outla" will meet the needs of his countr"# what kinds of food are produced at home and what imported# and what articles must e e$ported or imported. This last he must know in order that agreements and commercial treaties ma" e made with the countries concerned. There are, indeed, two sorts of state to which he must see that his countr"men gi%e no cause for offence, states stronger than his own, and states with which it is ad%antageous to trade. But while he must, for securit"+s sake, e a le to take all this into account, he must efore all things understand the su 'ect of legislation# for it is on a countr"+s laws that its whole welfare depends. He must, therefore, know how man" different forms of constitution there are# under what conditions each of these will prosper and " what internal de%elopments or e$ternal attacks each of them tends to e destro"ed. 7hen I speak of destruction through internal de%elopments I refer to the fact that all constitutions, e$cept the est one of all, are destro"ed oth " not eing pushed far enough and " eing pushed too far. Thus, democrac" loses its %igour, and finall" passes into oligarch", not onl" when it is not pushed far enough, ut also when it is pushed a great deal too far# 'ust as the a&uiline and the snu nose not onl" turn into normal noses " not eing a&uiline or snu enough, ut also " eing too %iolentl" a&uiline or snu arri%e at a condition in which the" no longer look like noses at all. It is useful, in framing laws, not onl" to stud" the past histor" of one+s own countr", in order to understand which constitution is desira le for it now, ut also to ha%e a knowledge of the constitutions of other nations, and so to learn for what kinds of nation the %arious kinds of constitution are suited. ,rom this we can see that ooks of tra%el are useful aids to legislation, since from these we ma" learn the laws and customs of different races. The political speaker will also find the researches of historians useful. But all this is the usiness of political science and not of rhetoric. These, then, are the most important kinds of information which the political speaker must possess. 8et us now go ack and state the premisses from which he will ha%e to argue in fa%our of adopting or re'ecting measures regarding these and other matters.

5
It ma" e said that e%er" indi%idual man and all men in common aim at a certain end which determines what the" choose and what the" a%oid. This end, to sum it up riefl", is happiness and its constituents. 8et us, then, " wa" of illustration onl", ascertain what is in general the nature of happiness, and what are the elements of its constituent parts. ,or all ad%ice to do things or not to do them is concerned with happiness and with the things that make for or against it# whate%er creates or increases happiness or

some part of happiness, we ought to do# whate%er destro"s or hampers happiness, or gi%es rise to its opposite, we ought not to do. 7e ma" define happiness as prosperit" com ined with %irtue# or as independence of life# or as the secure en'o"ment of the ma$imum of pleasure# or as a good condition of propert" and od", together with the power of guarding one+s propert" and od" and making use of them. That happiness is one or more of these things, prett" well e%er" od" agrees. ,rom this definition of happiness it follows that its constituent parts are)*good irth, plent" of friends, good friends, wealth, good children, plent" of children, a happ" old age, also such odil" e$cellences as health, eaut", strength, large stature, athletic powers, together with fame, honour, good luck, and %irtue. ! man cannot fail to e completel" independent if he possesses these internal and these e$ternal goods# for esides these there are no others to ha%e. 0;oods of the soul and of the od" are internal. ;ood irth, friends, mone", and honour are e$ternal.2 ,urther, we think that he should possess resources and luck, in order to make his life reall" secure. !s we ha%e alread" ascertained what happiness in general is, so now let us tr" to ascertain what of these parts of it is. (ow good irth in a race or a state means that its mem ers are indigenous or ancient) that its earliest leaders were distinguished men, and that from them ha%e sprung man" who were distinguished for &ualities that we admire. The good irth of an indi%idual, which ma" come either from the male or the female side, implies that oth parents are free citi.ens, and that, as in the case of the state, the founders of the line ha%e een nota le for %irtue or wealth or something else which is highl" pri.ed, and that man" distinguished persons elong to the famil", men and women, "oung and old. The phrases -possession of good children+ and -of man" children+ ear a &uite clear meaning. !pplied to a communit", the" mean that its "oung men are numerous and of good a &ualit") good in regard to odil" e$cellences, such as stature, eaut", strength, athletic powers# and also in regard to the e$cellences of the soul, which in a "oung man are temperance and courage. !pplied to an indi%idual, the" mean that his own children are numerous and ha%e the good &ualities we ha%e descri ed. Both male and female are here included# the e$cellences of the latter are, in od", eaut" and stature# in soul, self*command and an industr" that is not sordid. Communities as well as indi%iduals should lack none of these perfections, in their women as well as in their men. 7here, as among the 8acedaemonians, the state of women is ad, almost half of human life is spoilt. The constituents of wealth are) plent" of coined mone" and territor"# the ownership of numerous, large, and eautiful estates# also the ownership of numerous and eautiful implements, li%e stock, and sla%es. !ll these kinds of propert" are our own, are secure, gentlemanl", and useful. The useful kinds are those that are producti%e, the gentlemanl" kinds are those that pro%ide en'o"ment. B" -producti%e+ I mean those from which we get our income# " -en'o"a le+, those from which we get nothing worth mentioning e$cept the use of them. The criterion of -securit"+ is the ownership of propert" in such places and under such Conditions that the use of it is in our power# and it is -our own+ if it is in our own power to dispose of it or keep it. B" -disposing of it+ I mean gi%ing it awa" or selling it. 7ealth as a whole consists in using things rather than in owning them# it is reall" the acti%it"*that is, the use*of propert" that constitutes wealth. ,ame means eing respected " e%er" od", or ha%ing some &ualit" that is desired " all men, or " most, or " the good, or " the wise. Honour is the token of a man+s eing famous for doing good. it is chiefl" and most properl" paid to those who ha%e alread" done good# ut also to the man who can do good in future. Doing good refers either to the preser%ation of life and the means of life, or to wealth, or to some other of the good things which it is hard to get either alwa"s or at that particular place or time*for man" gain honour for things which seem small, ut the place and the occasion account for it. The constituents of honour are)

sacrifices# commemoration, in %erse or prose# pri%ileges# grants of land# front seats at ci%ic cele rations# state urial# statues# pu lic maintenance# among foreigners, o eisances and gi%ing place# and such presents as are among %arious odies of men regarded as marks of honour. ,or a present is not onl" the estowal of a piece of propert", ut also a token of honour# which e$plains wh" honour* lo%ing as well as mone"*lo%ing persons desire it. The present rings to oth what the" want# it is a piece of propert", which is what the lo%ers of mone" desire# and it rings honour, which is what the lo%ers of honour desire. The e$cellence of the od" is health# that is, a condition which allows us, while keeping free from disease, to ha%e the use of our odies# for man" people are -health"+ as we are told Herodicus was# and these no one can congratulate on their -health+, for the" ha%e to a stain from e%er"thing or nearl" e%er"thing that men do.*Beaut" %aries with the time of life. In a "oung man eaut" is the possession of a od" fit to endure the e$ertion of running and of contests of strength# which means that he is pleasant to look at# and therefore all*round athletes are the most eautiful, eing naturall" adapted oth for contests of strength and for speed also. ,or a man in his prime, eaut" is fitness for the e$ertion of warfare, together with a pleasant ut at the same time formida le appearance. ,or an old man, it is to e strong enough for such e$ertion as is necessar", and to e free from all those deformities of old age which cause pain to others. 9trength is the power of mo%ing some one else at will# to do this, "ou must either pull, push, lift, pin, or grip him# thus "ou must e strong in all of those wa"s or at least in some. E$cellence in si.e is to surpass ordinar" people in height, thickness, and readth " 'ust as much as will not make one+s mo%ements slower in conse&uence. !thletic e$cellence of the od" consists in si.e, strength, and swiftness# swiftness impl"ing strength. He who can fling forward his legs in a certain wa", and mo%e them fast and far, is good at running# he who can grip and hold down is good at wrestling# he who can dri%e an ad%ersar" from his ground with the right low is a good o$er) he who can do oth the last is a good pancratiast, while he who can do all is an -all*round+ athlete. Happiness in old age is the coming of old age slowl" and painlessl"# for a man has not this happiness if he grows old either &uickl", or tardil" ut painfull". It arises oth from the e$cellences of the od" and from good luck. If a man is not free from disease, or if he is strong, he will not e free from suffering# nor can he continue to li%e a long and painless life unless he has good luck. There is, indeed, a capacit" for long life that is &uite independent of health or strength# for man" people li%e long who lack the e$cellences of the od"# ut for our present purpose there is no use in going into the details of this. The terms -possession of man" friends+ and -possession of good friends+ need no e$planation# for we define a -friend+ as one who will alwa"s tr", for "our sake, to do what he takes to e good for "ou. The man towards whom man" feel thus has man" friends# if these are worth" men, he has good friends. -;ood luck+ means the ac&uisition or possession of all or most, or the most important, of those good things which are due to luck. 9ome of the things that are due to luck ma" also e due to artificial contri%ance# ut man" are independent of art, as for e$ample those which are due to nature*though, to e sure, things due to luck ma" actuall" e contrar" to nature. Thus health ma" e due to artificial contri%ance, ut eaut" and stature are due to nature. !ll such good things as e$cite en%" are, as a class, the outcome of good luck. 8uck is also the cause of good things that happen contrar" to reasona le e$pectation) as when, for instance, all "our rothers are ugl", ut "ou are handsome "ourself# or when "ou find a treasure that e%er" od" else has o%erlooked# or when a missile hits the ne$t man and misses "ou# or when "ou are the onl" man not to go to a place "ou ha%e gone to regularl", while the others go there for the first time and are killed. !ll such things are reckoned pieces of good luck. !s to %irtue, it is most closel" connected with the su 'ect of Eulog", and therefore we will wait to define it until we come to discuss that su 'ect.

6
It is now plain what our aims, future or actual, should e in urging, and what in depreciating, a

proposal# the latter eing the opposite of the former. (ow the political or deli erati%e orator+s aim is utilit") deli eration seeks to determine not ends ut the means to ends, i.e. what it is most useful to do. ,urther, utilit" is a good thing. 7e ought therefore to assure oursel%es of the main facts a out ;oodness and <tilit" in general. 7e ma" define a good thing as that which ought to e chosen for its own sake# or as that for the sake of which we choose something else# or as that which is sought after " all things, or " all things that ha%e sensation or reason, or which will e sought after " an" things that ac&uire reason# or as that which must e prescri ed for a gi%en indi%idual " reason generall", or is prescri ed for him " his indi%idual reason, this eing his indi%idual good# or as that whose presence rings an"thing into a satisfactor" and self*sufficing condition# or as self*sufficienc"# or as what produces, maintains, or entails characteristics of this kind, while pre%enting and destro"ing their opposites. One thing ma" entail another in either of two wa"s*012 simultaneousl", 042 su se&uentl". Thus learning entails knowledge su se&uentl", health entails life simultaneousl". Things are producti%e of other things in three senses) first as eing health" produces health# secondl", as food produces health# and thirdl", as e$ercise does*i.e. it does so usuall". !ll this eing settled, we now see that oth the ac&uisition of good things and the remo%al of ad things must e good# the latter entails freedom from the e%il things simultaneousl", while the former entails possession of the good things su se&uentl". The ac&uisition of a greater in place of a lesser good, or of a lesser in place of a greater e%il, is also good, for in proportion as the greater e$ceeds the lesser there is ac&uisition of good or remo%al of e%il. The %irtues, too, must e something good# for it is " possessing these that we are in a good condition, and the" tend to produce good works and good actions. The" must e se%erall" named and descri ed elsewhere. /leasure, again, must e a good thing, since it is the nature of all animals to aim at it. Conse&uentl" oth pleasant and eautiful things must e good things, since the former are producti%e of pleasure, while of the eautiful things some are pleasant and some desira le in and for themsel%es. The following is a more detailed list of things that must e good. Happiness, as eing desira le in itself and sufficient " itself, and as eing that for whose sake we choose man" other things. !lso 'ustice, courage, temperance, magnanimit", magnificence, and all such &ualities, as eing e$cellences of the soul. ,urther, health, eaut", and the like, as eing odil" e$cellences and producti%e of man" other good things) for instance, health is producti%e oth of pleasure and of life, and therefore is thought the greatest of goods, since these two things which it causes, pleasure and life, are two of the things most highl" pri.ed " ordinar" people. 7ealth, again) for it is the e$cellence of possession, and also producti%e of man" other good things. ,riends and friendship) for a friend is desira le in himself and also producti%e of man" other good things. 9o, too, honour and reputation, as eing pleasant, and producti%e of man" other good things, and usuall" accompanied " the presence of the good things that cause them to e estowed. The facult" of speech and action# since all such &ualities are producti%e of what is good. ,urther*good parts, strong memor", recepti%eness, &uickness of intuition, and the like, for all such faculties are producti%e of what is good. 9imilarl", all the sciences and arts. !nd life) since, e%en if no other good were the result of life, it is desira le in itself. !nd 'ustice, as the cause of good to the communit". The a o%e are prett" well all the things admittedl" good. In dealing with things whose goodness is disputed, we ma" argue in the following wa"s)*That is good of which the contrar" is ad. That is good the contrar" of which is to the ad%antage of our enemies# for e$ample, if it is to the particular ad%antage of our enemies that we should e cowards, clearl" courage is of particular %alue to our countr"men. !nd generall", the contrar" of that which our enemies desire, or of that at which the" re'oice, is e%identl" %alua le. Hence the passage eginning) Surely would Priam exult. This principle usuall" holds good, ut not alwa"s, since it ma" well e that our interest is sometimes the same as that of our enemies. Hence it is said that -e%ils draw men together+# that is, when the same thing is hurtful to them oth.

,urther) that which is not in e$cess is good, and that which is greater than it should e is ad. That also is good on which much la our or mone" has een spent# the mere fact of this makes it seem good, and such a good is assumed to e an end*an end reached through a long chain of means# and an" end is a good. Hence the lines eginning) And for Priam (and Troy-town’s folk) should they leave behind them a boast; and h! it were shame To have tarried so lon" and return em#ty-handed as erst we $ame; and there is also the pro%er a out - reaking the pitcher at the door+. That which most people seek after, and which is o %iousl" an o 'ect of contention, is also a good# for, as has een shown, that is good which is sought after " e%er" od", and -most people+ is taken to e e&ui%alent to -e%er" od"+. That which is praised is good, since no one praises what is not good. 9o, again, that which is praised " our enemies =or " the worthless> for when e%en those who ha%e a grie%ance think a thing good, it is at once felt that e%er" one must agree with them# our enemies can admit the fact onl" ecause it is e%ident, 'ust as those must e worthless whom their friends censure and their enemies do not. 0,or this reason the Corinthians concei%ed themsel%es to e insulted " 9imonides when he wrote) A"ainst the %orinthians hath &lium no $om#laint.) !gain, that is good which has een distinguished " the fa%our of a discerning or %irtuous man or woman, as Od"sseus was distinguished " !thena, Helen " Theseus, /aris " the goddesses, and !chilles " Homer. !nd, generall" speaking, all things are good which men deli eratel" choose to do# this will include the things alread" mentioned, and also whate%er ma" e ad for their enemies or good for their friends, and at the same time practica le. Things are -practica le+ in two senses) 012 it is possi le to do them, 042 it is eas" to do them. Things are done -easil"+ when the" are done either without pain or &uickl") the -difficult"+ of an act lies either in its painfulness or in the long time it takes. !gain, a thing is good if it is as men wish# and the" wish to ha%e either no e%il at an or at least a alance of good o%er e%il. This last will happen where the penalt" is either impercepti le or slight. ;ood, too, are things that are a man+s %er" own, possessed " no one else, e$ceptional# for this increases the credit of ha%ing them. 9o are things which efit the possessors, such as whate%er is appropriate to their irth or capacit", and whate%er the" feel the" ought to ha%e ut lack*such things ma" indeed e trifling, ut none the less men deli eratel" make them the goal of their action. !nd things easil" effected# for these are practica le 0in the sense of eing eas"2# such things are those in which e%er" one, or most people, or one+s e&uals, or one+s inferiors ha%e succeeded. ;ood also are the things " which we shall gratif" our friends or anno" our enemies# and the things chosen " those whom we admire) and the things for which we are fitted " nature or e$perience, since we think we shall succeed more easil" in these) and those in which no worthless man can succeed, for such things ring greater praise) and those which we do in fact desire, for what we desire is taken to e not onl" pleasant ut also etter. ,urther, a man of a gi%en disposition makes chiefl" for the corresponding things) lo%ers of %ictor" make for %ictor", lo%ers of honour for honour, mone"*lo%ing men for mone", and so with the rest. These, then, are the sources from which we must deri%e our means of persuasion a out ;ood and <tilit".

7
9ince, howe%er, it often happens that people agree that two things are oth useful ut do not agree a out which is the more so, the ne$t step will e to treat of relati%e goodness and relati%e utilit".

! thing which surpasses another ma" e regarded as eing that other thing plus something more, and that other thing which is surpassed as eing what is contained in the first thing. (ow to call a thing -greater+ or -more+ alwa"s implies a comparison of it with one that is -smaller+ or -less+, while -great+ and -small+, -much+ and -little+, are terms used in comparison with normal magnitude. The -great+ is that which surpasses the normal, the -small+ is that which is surpassed " the normal# and so with -man"+ and -few+. (ow we are appl"ing the term -good+ to what is desira le for its own sake and not for the sake of something else# to that at which all things aim# to what the" would choose if the" could ac&uire understanding and practical wisdom# and to that which tends to produce or preser%e such goods, or is alwa"s accompanied " them. 3oreo%er, that for the sake of which things are done is the end 0an end eing that for the sake of which all else is done2, and for each indi%idual that thing is a good which fulfils these conditions in regard to himself. It follows, then, that a greater num er of goods is a greater good than one or than a smaller num er, if that one or that smaller num er is included in the count# for then the larger num er surpasses the smaller, and the smaller &uantit" is surpassed as eing contained in the larger. !gain, if the largest mem er of one class surpasses the largest mem er of another, then the one class surpasses the other# and if one class surpasses another, then the largest mem er of the one surpasses the largest mem er of the other. Thus, if the tallest man is taller than the tallest woman, then men in general are taller than women. Con%ersel", if men in general are taller than women, then the tallest man is taller than the tallest woman. ,or the superiorit" of class o%er class is proportionate to the superiorit" possessed " their largest specimens. !gain, where one good is alwa"s accompanied " another, ut does not alwa"s accompan" it, it is greater than the other, for the use of the second thing is implied in the use of the first. ! thing ma" e accompanied " another in three wa"s, either simultaneousl", su se&uentl", or potentiall". 8ife accompanies health simultaneousl" 0 ut not health life2, knowledge accompanies the act of learning su se&uentl", cheating accompanies sacrilege potentiall", since a man who has committed sacrilege is alwa"s capa le of cheating. !gain, when two things each surpass a third, that which does so " the greater amount is the greater of the two# for it must surpass the greater as well as the less of the other two. ! thing producti%e of a greater good than another is producti%e of is itself a greater good than that other. ,or this conception of -producti%e of a greater+ has een implied in our argument. 8ikewise, that which is produced " a greater good is itself a greater good# thus, if what is wholesome is more desira le and a greater good than what gi%es pleasure, health too must e a greater good than pleasure. !gain, a thing which is desira le in itself is a greater good than a thing which is not desira le in itself, as for e$ample odil" strength than what is wholesome, since the latter is not pursued for its own sake, whereas the former is# and this was our definition of the good. !gain, if one of two things is an end, and the other is not, the former is the greater good, as eing chosen for its own sake and not for the sake of something else# as, for e$ample, e$ercise is chosen for the sake of ph"sical well* eing. !nd of two things that which stands less in need of the other, or of other things, is the greater good, since it is more self*sufficing. 0That which stands -less+ in need of others is that which needs either fewer or easier things.2 9o when one thing does not e$ist or cannot come into e$istence without a second, while the second can e$ist without the first, the second is the etter. That which does not need something else is more self*sufficing than that which does, and presents itself as a greater good for that reason. !gain, that which is a eginning of other things is a greater good than that which is not, and that which is a cause is a greater good than that which is not# the reason eing the same in each case, namel" that without a cause and a eginning nothing can e$ist or come into e$istence. !gain, where there are two sets of conse&uences arising from two different eginnings or causes, the conse&uences of the more important eginning or cause are themsel%es the more important# and con%ersel", that eginning or cause is itself the more important which has the more important conse&uences. (ow it is plain, from all that has een said, that one thing ma" e shown to e more important than another from two opposite points of %iew) it ma" appear the more important 012 ecause it is a eginning and the other thing is not, and also 042 ecause it is not a eginning and the other thing is*on the ground that the end is more important and is not a eginning. 9o 8eodamas, when accusing Callistratus, said that the man who prompted the deed was more guilt" than the doer, since it would not ha%e een done if he had not planned it. On the other hand, when accusing Cha rias he said that the doer was worse than the prompter, since there would ha%e een no

deed without some one to do it# men, said he, plot a thing onl" in order to carr" it out. ,urther, what is rare is a greater good than what is plentiful. Thus, gold is a etter thing than iron, though less useful) it is harder to get, and therefore etter worth getting. Re%ersel", it ma" e argued that the plentiful is a etter thing than the rare, ecause we can make more use of it. ,or what is often useful surpasses what is seldom useful, whence the sa"ing) The best of thin"s is water. 3ore generall") the hard thing is etter than the eas", ecause it is rarer) and re%ersel", the eas" thing is etter than the hard, for it is as we wish it to e. That is the greater good whose contrar" is the greater e%il, and whose loss affects us more. /ositi%e goodness and adness are more important than the mere a sence of goodness and adness) for positi%e goodness and adness are ends, which the mere a sence of them cannot e. ,urther, in proportion as the functions of things are no le or ase, the things themsel%es are good or ad) con%ersel", in proportion as the things themsel%es are good or ad, their functions also are good or ad# for the nature of results corresponds with that of their causes and eginnings, and con%ersel" the nature of causes and eginnings corresponds with that of their results. 3oreo%er, those things are greater goods, superiorit" in which is more desira le or more honoura le. Thus, keenness of sight is more desira le than keenness of smell, sight generall" eing more desira le than smell generall"# and similarl", unusuall" great lo%e of friends eing more honoura le than unusuall" great lo%e of mone", ordinar" lo%e of friends is more honoura le than ordinar" lo%e of mone". Con%ersel", if one of two normal things is etter or no ler than the other, an unusual degree of that thing is etter or no ler than an unusual degree of the other. !gain, one thing is more honoura le or etter than another if it is more honoura le or etter to desire it# the importance of the o 'ect of a gi%en instinct corresponds to the importance of the instinct itself# and for the same reason, if one thing is more honoura le or etter than another, it is more honoura le and etter to desire it. !gain, if one science is more honoura le and %alua le than another, the acti%it" with which it deals is also more honoura le and %alua le# as is the science, so is the realit" that is its o 'ect, each science eing authoritati%e in its own sphere. 9o, also, the more %alua le and honoura le the o 'ect of a science, the more %alua le and honoura le the science itself is*in conse&uence. !gain, that which would e 'udged, or which has een 'udged, a good thing, or a etter thing than something else, " all or most people of understanding, or " the ma'orit" of men, or " the a lest, must e so# either without &ualification, or in so far as the" use their understanding to form their 'udgement. This is indeed a general principle, applica le to all other 'udgements also# not onl" the goodness of things, ut their essence, magnitude, and general nature are in fact 'ust what knowledge and understanding will declare them to e. Here the principle is applied to 'udgements of goodness, since one definition of -good+ was -what eings that ac&uire understanding will choose in an" gi%en case+) from which it clearl" follows that that thing is hetter which understanding declares to e so. That, again, is a etter thing which attaches to etter men, either a solutel", or in %irtue of their eing etter# as courage is etter than strength. !nd that is a greater good which would e chosen " a etter man, either a solutel", or in %irtue of his eing etter) for instance, to suffer wrong rather than to do wrong, for that would e the choice of the 'uster man. !gain, the pleasanter of two things is the etter, since all things pursue pleasure, and things instincti%el" desire pleasura le sensation for its own sake# and these are two of the characteristics " which the -good+ and the -end+ ha%e een defined. One pleasure is greater than another if it is more unmi$ed with pain, or more lasting. !gain, the no ler thing is etter than the less no le, since the no le is either what is pleasant or what is desira le in itself. !nd those things also are greater goods which men desire more earnestl" to ring a out for themsel%es or for their friends, whereas those things which the" least desire to ring a out are greater e%ils. !nd those things which are more lasting are etter than those which are more fleeting, and the more secure than the less# the en'o"ment of the lasting has the ad%antage of eing longer, and that of the secure has the ad%antage of suiting our wishes, eing there for us whene%er we like. ,urther, in accordance with the rule of co*ordinate terms and infle$ions of the same stem, what is true of one such related word is true of all. Thus if the action &ualified " the term - ra%e+ is more no le and desira le than the action &ualified " the term -temperate+, then - ra%er"+ is more desira le than -temperance+ and - eing ra%e+ than - eing temperate+. That, again, which is chosen " all is a greater good than that which is not, and that chosen

" the ma'orit" than that chosen " the minorit". ,or that which all desire is good, as we ha%e said#+ and so, the more a thing is desired, the etter it is. ,urther, that is the etter thing which is considered so " competitors or enemies, or, again, " authori.ed 'udges or those whom the" select to represent them. In the first two cases the decision is %irtuall" that of e%er" one, in the last two that of authorities and e$perts. !nd sometimes it ma" e argued that what all share is the etter thing, since it is a dishonour not to share in it# at other times, that what none or few share is etter, since it is rarer. The more praiseworth" things are, the no ler and therefore the etter the" are. 9o with the things that earn greater honours than others*honour is, as it were, a measure of %alue# and the things whose a sence in%ol%es comparati%el" hea%" penalties# and the things that are etter than others admitted or elie%ed to e good. 3oreo%er, things look etter merel" " eing di%ided into their parts, since the" then seem to surpass a greater num er of things than efore. Hence Homer sa"s that 3eleager was roused to attle " the thought of All horrors that li"ht on a folk whose $ity is ta’en of their foes! 'hen they slau"hter the men! when the bur" is wasted with ravenin" flame! 'hen stran"ers are halin" youn" $hildren to thraldom! (fair women to shame.) The same effect is produced " piling up facts in a clima$ after the manner of Epicharmus. The reason is partl" the same as in the case of di%ision 0for com ination too makes the impression of great superiorit"2, and partl" that the original thing appears to e the cause and origin of important results. !nd since a thing is etter when it is harder or rarer than other things, its superiorit" ma" e due to seasons, ages, places, times, or one+s natural powers. 7hen a man accomplishes something e"ond his natural power, or e"ond his "ears, or e"ond the measure of people like him, or in a special wa", or at a special place or time, his deed will ha%e a high degree of no leness, goodness, and 'ustice, or of their opposites. Hence the epigram on the %ictor at the Ol"mpic games) &n time #ast! heavin" a (oke on my shoulders! of wood unshaven! & $arried my loads of fish from! Ar"os to Te"ea town. 9o Iphicrates used to e$tol himself " descri ing the low estate from which he had risen. !gain, what is natural is etter than what is ac&uired, since it is harder to come ". Hence the words of Homer) & have learnt from none but myself. !nd the est part of a good thing is particularl" good# as when /ericles in his funeral oration said that the countr"+s loss of its "oung men in attle was -as if the spring were taken out of the "ear+. 9o with those things which are of ser%ice when the need is pressing# for e$ample, in old age and times of sickness. !nd of two things that which leads more directl" to the end in %iew is the etter. 9o too is that which is etter for people generall" as well as for a particular indi%idual. !gain, what can e got is etter than what cannot, for it is good in a gi%en case and the other thing is not. !nd what is at the end of life is etter than what is not, since those things are ends in a greater degree which are nearer the end. 7hat aims at realit" is etter than what aims at appearance. 7e ma" define what aims at appearance as what a man will not choose if no od" is to know of his ha%ing it. This would seem to show that to recei%e enefits is more desira le than to confer them, since a man will choose the former e%en if no od" is to know of it, ut it is not the general %iew that he will choose the latter if no od" knows of it. 7hat a man wants to e is etter than what a man wants to seem, for in aiming at that he is aiming more at realit". Hence men sa" that 'ustice is of small %alue, since it is more desira le to seem 'ust than to e 'ust, whereas with health it is not so. That is etter than other things which is more useful than the" are for a num er of different purposes# for e$ample, that which promotes life, good life, pleasure, and no le conduct. ,or this reason wealth and health are commonl" thought to e of the highest %alue, as possessing all these ad%antages. !gain, that is etter than other things which is

accompanied oth with less pain and with actual pleasure# for here there is more than one ad%antage# and so here we ha%e the good of feeling pleasure and also the good of not feeling pain. !nd of two good things that is the etter whose addition to a third thing makes a etter whole than the addition of the other to the same thing will make. !gain, those things which we are seen to possess are etter than those which we are not seen to possess, since the former ha%e the air of realit". Hence wealth ma" e regarded as a greater good if its e$istence is known to others. That which is dearl" pri.ed is etter than what is not*the sort of thing that some people ha%e onl" one of, though others ha%e more like it. !ccordingl", linding a one*e"ed man inflicts worse in'ur" than half* linding a man with two e"es# for the one*e"ed man has een ro ed of what he dearl" pri.ed. The grounds on which we must ase our arguments, when we are speaking for or against a proposal, ha%e now een set forth more or less completel".

8
The most important and effecti%e &ualification for success in persuading audiences and speaking well on pu lic affairs is to understand all the forms of go%ernment and to discriminate their respecti%e customs, institutions, and interests. ,or all men are persuaded " considerations of their interest, and their interest lies in the maintenance of the esta lished order. ,urther, it rests with the supreme authorit" to gi%e authoritati%e decisions, and this %aries with each form of go%ernment# there are as man" different supreme authorities as there are different forms of go%ernment. The forms of go%ernment are four*democrac", oligarch", aristocrac", monarch". The supreme right to 'udge and decide alwa"s rests, therefore, with either a part or the whole of one or other of these go%erning powers. ! Democrac" is a form of go%ernment under which the citi.ens distri ute the offices of state among themsel%es " lot, whereas under oligarch" there is a propert" &ualification, under aristocrac" one of education. B" education I mean that education which is laid down " the law# for it is those who ha%e een lo"al to the national institutions that hold office under an aristocrac". These are ound to e looked upon as -the est men+, and it is from this fact that this form of go%ernment has deri%ed its name 0+the rule of the est+2. 3onarch", as the word implies, is the constitution a in which one man has authorit" o%er all. There are two forms of monarch") kingship, which is limited " prescri ed conditions, and -t"rann"+, which is not limited " an"thing. 7e must also notice the ends which the %arious forms of go%ernment pursue, since people choose in practice such actions as will lead to the reali.ation of their ends. The end of democrac" is freedom# of oligarch", wealth# of aristocrac", the maintenance of education and national institutions# of t"rann", the protection of the t"rant. It is clear, then, that we must distinguish those particular customs, institutions, and interests which tend to reali.e the ideal of each constitution, since men choose their means with reference to their ends. But rhetorical persuasion is effected not onl" " demonstrati%e ut " ethical argument# it helps a speaker to con%ince us, if we elie%e that he has certain &ualities himself, namel", goodness, or goodwill towards us, or oth together. 9imilarl", we should know the moral &ualities characteristic of each form of go%ernment, for the special moral character of each is ound to pro%ide us with our most effecti%e means of persuasion in dealing with it. 7e shall learn the &ualities of go%ernments in the same wa" as we learn the &ualities of indi%iduals, since the" are re%ealed in their deli erate acts of choice# and these are determined " the end that inspires them. 7e ha%e now considered the o 'ects, immediate or distant, at which we are to aim when urging an" proposal, and the grounds on which we are to ase our arguments in fa%our of its utilit". 7e ha%e also riefl" considered the means and methods " which we shall gain a good knowledge of the moral &ualities and institutions peculiar to the %arious forms of go%ernment*onl", howe%er, to the e$tent demanded " the present occasion# a detailed account of the su 'ect has een gi%en in the /olitics.

9

7e ha%e now to consider ?irtue and ?ice, the (o le and the Base, since these are the o 'ects of praise and lame. In doing so, we shall at the same time e finding out how to make our hearers take the re&uired %iew of our own characters*our second method of persuasion. The wa"s in which to make them trust the goodness of other people are also the wa"s in which to make them trust our own. /raise, again, ma" e serious or fri%olous# nor is it alwa"s of a human or di%ine eing ut often of inanimate things, or of the hum lest of the lower animals. Here too we must know on what grounds to argue, and must, therefore, now discuss the su 'ect, though " wa" of illustration onl". The (o le is that which is oth desira le for its own sake and also worth" of praise# or that which is oth good and also pleasant ecause good. If this is a true definition of the (o le, it follows that %irtue must e no le, since it is oth a good thing and also praiseworth". ?irtue is, according to the usual %iew, a facult" of pro%iding and preser%ing good things# or a facult" of conferring man" great enefits, and enefits of all kinds on all occasions. The forms of ?irtue are 'ustice, courage, temperance, magnificence, magnanimit", li eralit", gentleness, prudence, wisdom. If %irtue is a facult" of eneficence, the highest kinds of it must e those which are most useful to others, and for this reason men honour most the 'ust and the courageous, since courage is useful to others in war, 'ustice oth in war and in peace. (e$t comes li eralit"# li eral people let their mone" go instead of fighting for it, whereas other people care more for mone" than for an"thing else. @ustice is the %irtue through which e%er" od" en'o"s his own possessions in accordance with the law# its opposite is in'ustice, through which men en'o" the possessions of others in defiance of the law. Courage is the %irtue that disposes men to do no le deeds in situations of danger, in accordance with the law and in o edience to its commands# cowardice is the opposite. Temperance is the %irtue that disposes us to o e" the law where ph"sical pleasures are concerned# incontinence is the opposite. 8i eralit" disposes us to spend mone" for others+ good# illi eralit" is the opposite. 3agnanimit" is the %irtue that disposes us to do good to others on a large scale# =its opposite is meanness of spirit>. 3agnificence is a %irtue producti%e of greatness in matters in%ol%ing the spending of mone". The opposites of these two are smallness of spirit and meanness respecti%el". /rudence is that %irtue of the understanding which ena les men to come to wise decisions a out the relation to happiness of the goods and e%ils that ha%e een pre%iousl" mentioned. The a o%e is a sufficient account, for our present purpose, of %irtue and %ice in general, and of their %arious forms. !s to further aspects of the su 'ect, it is not difficult to discern the facts# it is e%ident that things producti%e of %irtue are no le, as tending towards %irtue# and also the effects of %irtue, that is, the signs of its presence and the acts to which it leads. !nd since the signs of %irtue, and such acts as it is the mark of a %irtuous man to do or ha%e done to him, are no le, it follows that all deeds or signs of courage, and e%er"thing done courageousl", must e no le things# and so with what is 'ust and actions done 'ustl". 0(ot, howe%er, actions 'ustl" done to us# here 'ustice is unlike the other %irtues# -'ustl"+ does not alwa"s mean -no l"+# when a man is punished, it is more shameful that this should e 'ustl" than un'ustl" done to him2. The same is true of the other %irtues. !gain, those actions are no le for which the reward is simpl" honour, or honour more than mone". 9o are those in which a man aims at something desira le for some one else+s sake# actions good a solutel", such as those a man does for his countr" without thinking of himself# actions good in their own nature# actions that are not good simpl" for the indi%idual, since indi%idual interests are selfish. (o le also are those actions whose ad%antage ma" e en'o"ed after death, as opposed to those whose ad%antage is en'o"ed during one+s lifetime) for the latter are more likel" to e for one+s own sake onl". !lso, all actions done for the sake of others, since less than other actions are done for one+s own sake# and all successes which enefit others and not oneself# and ser%ices done to one+s enefactors, for this is 'ust# and good deeds generall", since the" are not directed to one+s own profit. !nd the opposites of those things of which men feel ashamed, for men are ashamed of sa"ing, doing, or intending to do shameful things. 9o when !lcacus said Somethin" & fain would say to thee! nly shame restraineth me!

9appho wrote &f for thin"s "ood and noble thou wert yearnin"! &f to s#eak baseness were thy ton"ue not burnin"! )o load of shame would on thine eyelids wei"h; 'hat thou with honour wishest thou wouldst say. Those things, also, are no le for which men stri%e an$iousl", without feeling fear# for the" feel thus a out the good things which lead to fair fame. !gain, one &ualit" or action is no ler than another if it is that of a naturall" finer eing) thus a man+s will e no ler than a woman+s. !nd those &ualities are no le which gi%e more pleasure to other people than to their possessors# hence the no leness of 'ustice and 'ust actions. It is no le to a%enge oneself on one+s enemies and not to come to terms with them# for re&uital is 'ust, and the 'ust is no le# and not to surrender is a sign of courage. ?ictor", too, and honour elong to the class of no le things, since the" are desira le e%en when the" "ield no fruits, and the" pro%e our superiorit" in good &ualities. Things that deser%e to e remem ered are no le, and the more the" deser%e this, the no ler the" are. 9o are the things that continue e%en after death# those which are alwa"s attended " honour# those which are e$ceptional# and those which are possessed " one person alone*these last are more readil" remem ered than others. 9o again are possessions that ring no profit, since the" are more fitting than others for a gentleman. 9o are the distincti%e &ualities of a particular people, and the s"m ols of what it speciall" admires, like long hair in 9parta, where this is a mark of a free man, as it is not eas" to perform an" menial task when one+s hair is long. !gain, it is no le not to practise an" sordid craft, since it is the mark of a free man not to li%e at another+s eck and call. 7e are also to assume when we wish either to praise a man or lame him that &ualities closel" allied to those which he actuall" has are identical with them# for instance, that the cautious man is cold* looded and treacherous, and that the stupid man is an honest fellow or the thick*skinned man a good*tempered one. 7e can alwa"s ideali.e an" gi%en man " drawing on the %irtues akin to his actual &ualities# thus we ma" sa" that the passionate and e$cita le man is -outspoken+# or that the arrogant man is -super + or -impressi%e+. Those who run to e$tremes will e said to possess the corresponding good &ualities# rashness will e called courage, and e$tra%agance generosit". That will e what most people think# and at the same time this method ena les an ad%ocate to draw a misleading inference from the moti%e, arguing that if a man runs into danger needlessl", much more will he do so in a no le cause# and if a man is open*handed to an" one and e%er" one, he will e so to his friends also, since it is the e$treme form of goodness to e good to e%er" od". 7e must also take into account the nature of our particular audience when making a speech of praise# for, as 9ocrates used to sa", -it is not difficult to praise the !thenians to an !thenian audience.+ If the audience esteems a gi%en &ualit", we must sa" that our hero has that &ualit", no matter whether we are addressing 9c"thians or 9partans or philosophers. E%er"thing, in fact, that is esteemed we are to represent as no le. !fter all, people regard the two things as much the same. !ll actions are no le that are appropriate to the man who does them) if, for instance, the" are worth" of his ancestors or of his own past career. ,or it makes for happiness, and is a no le thing, that he should add to the honour he alread" has. E%en inappropriate actions are no le if the" are etter and no ler than the appropriate ones would e# for instance, if one who was 'ust an a%erage person when all went well ecomes a hero in ad%ersit", or if he ecomes etter and easier to get on with the higher he rises. Compare the sa"ing of lphicrates, -Think what I was and what I am+# and the epigram on the %ictor at the Ol"mpic games, &n time #ast! bearin" a yoke on my shoulders! of wood unshaven! and the encomium of 9imonides,

A woman whose father! whose husband! whose brethren were #rin$es all. 9ince we praise a man for what he has actuall" done, and fine actions are distinguished from others " eing intentionall" good, we must tr" to pro%e that our hero+s no le acts are intentional. This is all the easier if we can make out that he has often acted so efore, and therefore we must assert coincidences and accidents to ha%e een intended. /roduce a num er of good actions, all of the same kind, and people will think that the" must ha%e een intended, and that the" pro%e the good &ualities of the man who did them. /raise is the e$pression in words of the eminence of a man+s good &ualities, and therefore we must displa" his actions as the product of such &ualities. Encomium refers to what he has actuall" done# the mention of accessories, such as good irth and education, merel" helps to make our stor" credi le* good fathers are likel" to ha%e good sons, and good training is likel" to produce good character. Hence it is onl" when a man has alread" done something that we estow encomiums upon him. Aet the actual deeds are e%idence of the doer+s character) e%en if a man has not actuall" done a gi%en good thing, we shall estow praise on him, if we are sure that he is the sort of man who would do it. To call an" one lest is, it ma" e added, the same thing as to call him happ"# ut these are not the same thing as to estow praise and encomium upon him# the two latter are a part of -calling happ"+, 'ust as goodness is a part of happiness. To praise a man is in one respect akin to urging a course of action. The suggestions which would e made in the latter case ecome encomiums when differentl" e$pressed. 7hen we know what action or character is re&uired, then, in order to e$press these facts as suggestions for action, we ha%e to change and re%erse our form of words. Thus the statement -! man should e proud not of what he owes to fortune ut of what he owes to himself+, if put like this, amounts to a suggestion# to make it into praise we must put it thus, -9ince he is proud not of what he owes to fortune ut of what he owes to himself.+ Conse&uentl", whene%er "ou want to praise an" one, think what "ou would urge people to do# and when "ou want to urge the doing of an"thing, think what "ou would praise a man for ha%ing done. 9ince suggestion ma" or ma" not for id an action, the praise into which we con%ert it must ha%e one or other of two opposite forms of e$pression accordingl". There are, also, man" useful wa"s of heightening the effect of praise. 7e must, for instance, point out that a man is the onl" one, or the first, or almost the onl" one who has done something, or that he has done it etter than an" one else# all these distinctions are honoura le. !nd we must, further, make much of the particular season and occasion of an action, arguing that we could hardl" ha%e looked for it 'ust then. If a man has often achie%ed the same success, we must mention this# that is a strong point# he himself, and not luck, will then e gi%en the credit. 9o, too, if it is on his account that o ser%ances ha%e een de%ised and instituted to encourage or honour such achie%ements as his own) thus we ma" praise Hippolochus ecause the first encomium e%er made was for him, or Harmodius and !ristogeiton ecause their statues were the first to e put up in the market*place. !nd we ma" censure ad men for the opposite reason. !gain, if "ou cannot find enough to sa" of a man himself, "ou ma" pit him against others, which is what Isocrates used to do owing to his want of familiarit" with forensic pleading. The comparison should e with famous men# that will strengthen "our case# it is a no le thing to surpass men who are themsel%es great. It is onl" natural that methods of -heightening the effect+ should e attached particularl" to speeches of praise# the" aim at pro%ing superiorit" o%er others, and an" such superiorit" is a form of no leness. Hence if "ou cannot compare "our hero with famous men, "ou should at least compare him with other people generall", since an" superiorit" is held to re%eal e$cellence. !nd, in general, of the lines of argument which are common to all speeches, this -heightening of effect+ is most suita le for declamations, where we take our hero+s actions as admitted facts, and our usiness is simpl" to in%est these with dignit" and no ilit". -E$amples+ are most suita le to deli erati%e speeches# for we 'udge of future e%ents " di%ination from past e%ents. Enth"memes are most suita le to forensic speeches# it is our dou ts a out past e%ents that most admit of arguments showing wh" a thing must ha%e happened or pro%ing that it did happen.

The a o%e are the general lines on which all, or nearl" all, speeches of praise or lame are constructed. 7e ha%e seen the sort of thing we must ear in mind in making such speeches, and the materials out of which encomiums and censures are made. (o special treatment of censure and %ituperation is needed. Bnowing the a o%e facts, we know their contraries# and it is out of these that speeches of censure are made.

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7e ha%e ne$t to treat of !ccusation and Defence, and to enumerate and descri e the ingredients of the s"llogisms used therein. There are three things we must ascertain first, the nature and num er of the incenti%es to wrong*doing# second, the state of mind of wrongdoers# third, the kind of persons who are wronged, and their condition. 7e will deal with these &uestions in order. But efore that let us define the act of -wrong*doing+. 7e ma" descri e -wrong*doing+ as in'ur" %oluntaril" inflicted contrar" to law. -8aw+ is either special or general. B" special law I mean that written law which regulates the life of a particular communit"# " general law, all those unwritten principles which are supposed to e acknowledged e%er"where. 7e do things -%oluntaril"+ when we do them consciousl" and without constraint. 0(ot all %oluntar" acts are deli erate, ut all deli erate acts are conscious*no one is ignorant of what he deli eratel" intends.2 The causes of our deli eratel" intending harmful and wicked acts contrar" to law are 012 %ice, 042 lack of self*control. ,or the wrongs a man does to others will correspond to the ad &ualit" or &ualities that he himself possesses. Thus it is the mean man who will wrong others a out mone", the profligate in matters of ph"sical pleasure, the effeminate in matters of comfort, and the coward where danger is concerned*his terror makes him a andon those who are in%ol%ed in the same danger. The am itious man does wrong for sake of honour, the &uick*tempered from anger, the lo%er of %ictor" for the sake of %ictor", the em ittered man for the sake of re%enge, the stupid man ecause he has misguided notions of right and wrong, the shameless man ecause he does not mind what people think of him# and so with the rest*an" wrong that an" one does to others corresponds to his particular faults of character. Howe%er, this su 'ect has alread" een cleared up in part in our discussion of the %irtues and will e further e$plained later when we treat of the emotions. 7e ha%e now to consider the moti%es and states of mind of wrongdoers, and to whom the" do wrong. 8et us first decide what sort of things people are tr"ing to get or a%oid when the" set a out doing wrong to others. ,or it is plain that the prosecutor must consider, out of all the aims that can e%er induce us to do wrong to our neigh ours, how man", and which, affect his ad%ersar"# while the defendant must consider how man", and which, do not affect him. (ow e%er" action of e%er" person either is or is not due to that person himself. Of those not due to himself some are due to chance, the others to necessit"# of these latter, again, some are due to compulsion, the others to nature. Conse&uentl" all actions that are not due to a man himself are due either to chance or to nature or to compulsion. !ll actions that are due to a man himself and caused " himself are due either to ha it or to rational or irrational cra%ing. Rational cra%ing is a cra%ing for good, i.e. a wish*no od" wishes for an"thing unless he thinks it good. Irrational cra%ing is twofold, %i.. anger and appetite. Thus e%er" action must e due to one or other of se%en causes) chance, nature, compulsion, ha it, reasoning, anger, or appetite. It is superfluous further to distinguish actions according to the doers+ ages, moral states, or the like# it is of course true that, for instance, "oung men do ha%e hot tempers and strong appetites# still, it is not through "outh that the" act accordingl", ut through anger or appetite. (or, again, is action due to wealth or po%ert"# it is of course true that poor men, eing short of mone", do ha%e an appetite for it, and that rich men, eing a le to command needless pleasures, do ha%e an appetite for such pleasures) ut here, again, their actions will e due not to wealth or po%ert" ut to appetite. 9imilarl", with 'ust men, and un'ust men, and all others who are said to act in accordance with their moral &ualities, their actions will reall" e due to one of the causes mentioned*either reasoning or emotion) due, indeed, sometimes to good dispositions and good emotions, and sometimes to ad# ut

that good &ualities should e followed " good emotions, and ad " ad, is merel" an accessor" fact* it is no dou t true that the temperate man, for instance, ecause he is temperate, is alwa"s and at once attended " health" opinions and appetites in regard to pleasant things, and the intemperate man " unhealth" ones. 9o we must ignore such distinctions. 9till we must consider what kinds of actions and of people usuall" go together# for while there are no definite kinds of action associated with the fact that a man is fair or dark, tall or short, it does make a difference if he is "oung or old, 'ust or un'ust. !nd, generall" speaking, all those accessor" &ualities that cause distinctions of human character are important) e.g. the sense of wealth or po%ert", of eing luck" or unluck". This shall e dealt with later* let us now deal first with the rest of the su 'ect efore us. The things that happen " chance are all those whose cause cannot e determined, that ha%e no purpose, and that happen neither alwa"s nor usuall" nor in an" fi$ed wa". The definition of chance shows 'ust what the" are. Those things happen " nature which ha%e a fi$ed and internal cause# the" take place uniforml", either alwa"s or usuall". There is no need to discuss in e$act detail the things that happen contrar" to nature, nor to ask whether the" happen in some sense naturall" or from some other cause# it would seem that chance is at least partl" the cause of such e%ents. Those things happen through compulsion which take place contrar" to the desire or reason of the doer, "et through his own agenc". !cts are done from ha it which men do ecause the" ha%e often done them efore. !ctions are due to reasoning when, in %iew of an" of the goods alread" mentioned, the" appear useful either as ends or as means to an end, and are performed for that reason) -for that reason,+ since e%en licentious persons perform a certain num er of useful actions, ut ecause the" are pleasant and not ecause the" are useful. To passion and anger are due all acts of re%enge. Re%enge and punishment are different things. /unishment is inflicted for the sake of the person punished# re%enge for that of the punisher, to satisf" his feelings. 07hat anger is will e made clear when we come to discuss the emotions.2 !ppetite is the cause of all actions that appear pleasant. Ha it, whether ac&uired " mere familiarit" or " effort, elongs to the class of pleasant things, for there are man" actions not naturall" pleasant which men perform with pleasure, once the" ha%e ecome used to them. To sum up then, all actions due to oursel%es either are or seem to e either good or pleasant. 3oreo%er, as all actions due to oursel%es are done %oluntaril" and actions not due to oursel%es are done in%oluntaril", it follows that all %oluntar" actions must either e or seem to e either good or pleasant# for I reckon among goods escape from e%ils or apparent e%ils and the e$change of a greater e%il for a less 0since these things are in a sense positi%el" desira le2, and likewise I count among pleasures escape from painful or apparentl" painful things and the e$change of a greater pain for a less. 7e must ascertain, then, the num er and nature of the things that are useful and pleasant. The useful has een pre%iousl" e$amined in conne$ion with political orator"# let us now proceed to e$amine the pleasant. Our %arious definitions must e regarded as ade&uate, e%en if the" are not e$act, pro%ided the" are clear.

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7e ma" la" it down that /leasure is a mo%ement, a mo%ement " which the soul as a whole is consciousl" rought into its normal state of eing# and that /ain is the opposite. If this is what pleasure is, it is clear that the pleasant is what tends to produce this condition, while that which tends to destro" it, or to cause the soul to e rought into the opposite state, is painful. It must therefore e pleasant as a rule to mo%e towards a natural state of eing, particularl" when a natural process has achie%ed the complete reco%er" of that natural state. Ha its also are pleasant# for as soon as a thing has ecome ha itual, it is %irtuall" natural# ha it is a thing not unlike nature# what happens often is akin to what happens alwa"s, natural e%ents happening alwa"s, ha itual e%ents often. !gain, that is pleasant which is not forced on us# for force is unnatural, and that is wh" what is compulsor", painful, and it has een rightl" said All that is done on $om#ulsion is bitterness unto the soul. 9o all acts of concentration, strong effort, and strain are necessaril" painful# the" all in%ol%e compulsion and force, unless we are accustomed to them, in which case it is custom that makes them pleasant. The opposites to these are pleasant# and hence ease, freedom from toil, rela$ation,

amusement, rest, and sleep elong to the class of pleasant things# for these are all free from an" element of compulsion. E%er"thing, too, is pleasant for which we ha%e the desire within us, since desire is the cra%ing for pleasure. Of the desires some are irrational, some associated with reason. B" irrational I mean those which do not arise from an" opinion held " the mind. Of this kind are those known as -natural+# for instance, those originating in the od", such as the desire for nourishment, namel" hunger and thirst, and a separate kind of desire answering to each kind of nourishment# and the desires connected with taste and se$ and sensations of touch in general# and those of smell, hearing, and %ision. Rational desires are those which we are induced to ha%e# there are man" things we desire to see or get ecause we ha%e een told of them and induced to elie%e them good. ,urther, pleasure is the consciousness through the senses of a certain kind of emotion# ut imagination is a fee le sort of sensation, and there will alwa"s e in the mind of a man who remem ers or e$pects something an image or picture of what he remem ers or e$pects. If this is so, it is clear that memor" and e$pectation also, eing accompanied " sensation, ma" e accompanied " pleasure. It follows that an"thing pleasant is either present and percei%ed, past and remem ered, or future and e$pected, since we percei%e present pleasures, remem er past ones, and e$pect future ones. (ow the things that are pleasant to remem er are not onl" those that, when actuall" percei%ed as present, were pleasant, ut also some things that were not, pro%ided that their results ha%e su se&uentl" pro%ed no le and good. Hence the words Sweet *tis when res$ued to remember #ain! and +ven his "riefs are a ,oy lon" after to one that remembers All that he wrou"ht and endured. The reason of this is that it is pleasant e%en to e merel" free from e%il. The things it is pleasant to e$pect are those that when present are felt to afford us either great delight or great ut not painful enefit. !nd in general, all the things that delight us when the" are present also do so, as a rule, when we merel" remem er or e$pect them. Hence e%en eing angr" is pleasant*Homer said of wrath that Sweeter it is by far than the honey$omb dri##in" with sweetnessfor no one grows angr" with a person on whom there is no prospect of taking %engeance, and we feel comparati%el" little anger, or none at all, with those who are much our superiors in power. 9ome pleasant feeling is associated with most of our appetites we are en'o"ing either the memor" of a past pleasure or the e$pectation of a future one, 'ust as persons down with fe%er, during their attacks of thirst, en'o" remem ering the drinks the" ha%e had and looking forward to ha%ing more. 9o also a lo%er en'o"s talking or writing a out his lo%ed one, or doing an" little thing connected with him# all these things recall him to memor" and make him actuall" present to the e"e of imagination. Indeed, it is alwa"s the first sign of lo%e, that esides en'o"ing some one+s presence, we remem er him when he is gone, and feel pain as well as pleasure, ecause he is there no longer. 9imilarl" there is an element of pleasure e%en in mourning and lamentation for the departed. There is grief, indeed, at his loss, ut pleasure in remem ering him and as it were seeing him efore us in his deeds and in his life. 7e can well elie%e the poet when he sa"s -e s#ake! and in ea$h man’s heart he awakened the love of lament. Re%enge, too, is pleasant# it is pleasant to get an"thing that it is painful to fail to get, and angr" people suffer e$treme pain when the" fail to get their re%enge# ut the" en'o" the prospect of getting it. ?ictor" also is pleasant, and not merel" to - ad losers+, ut to e%er" one# the winner sees himself in the light of a champion, and e%er" od" has a more or less keen appetite for eing that. The pleasantness of %ictor" implies of course that com ati%e sports and intellectual contests are pleasant 0since in these it

often happens that some one wins2 and also games like knuckle* ones, all, dice, and draughts. !nd similarl" with the serious sports# some of these ecome pleasant when one is accustomed to them# while others are pleasant from the first, like hunting with hounds, or indeed an" kind of hunting. ,or where there is competition, there is %ictor". That is wh" forensic pleading and de ating contests are pleasant to those who are accustomed to them and ha%e the capacit" for them. Honour and good repute are among the most pleasant things of all# the" make a man see himself in the character of a fine fellow, especiall" when he is credited with it " people whom he thinks good 'udges. His neigh ours are etter 'udges than people at a distance# his associates and fellow*countr"men etter than strangers# his contemporaries etter than posterit"# sensi le persons etter than foolish ones# a large num er of people etter than a small num er) those of the former class, in each case, are the more likel" to e good 'udges of him. Honour and credit estowed " those whom "ou think much inferior to "ourself* e.g. children or animals*"ou do not %alue) not for its own sake, an"how) if "ou do %alue it, it is for some other reason. ,riends elong to the class of pleasant things# it is pleasant to lo%e*if "ou lo%e wine, "ou certainl" find it delightful) and it is pleasant to e lo%ed, for this too makes a man see himself as the possessor of goodness, a thing that e%er" eing that has a feeling for it desires to possess) to e lo%ed means to e %alued for one+s own personal &ualities. To e admired is also pleasant, simpl" ecause of the honour implied. ,latter" and flatterers are pleasant) the flatterer is a man who, "ou elie%e, admires and likes To do the same thing often is pleasant, since, as we saw, an"thing ha itual is pleasant. !nd to change is also pleasant) change means an approach to nature, whereas in%aria le repetition of an"thing causes the e$cessi%e prolongation of a settled condition) therefore, sa"s the poet, %han"e is in all thin"s sweet. That is wh" what comes to us onl" at long inter%als is pleasant, whether it e a person or a thing# for it is a change from what we had efore, and, esides, what comes onl" at long inter%als has the %alue of rarit". 8earning things and wondering at things are also pleasant as a rule# wondering implies the desire of learning, so that the o 'ect of wonder is an o 'ect of desire# while in learning one is rought into one+s natural condition. Conferring and recei%ing enefits elong to the class of pleasant things# to recei%e a enefit is to get what one desires# to confer a enefit implies oth posses sion and superiorit", oth of which are things we tr" to attain. It is ecause eneficent acts are pleasant that people find it pleasant to put their neigh ours straight again and to suppl" what the" lack. !gain, since learning and wondering are pleasant, it follows that such things as acts of imitation must e pleasant*for instance, painting, sculpture, poetr" and e%er" product of skilful imitation# this latter, e%en if the o 'ect imitated is not itself pleasant# for it is not the o 'ect itself which here gi%es delight# the spectator draws inferences 0+That is a so*and*so+2 and thus learns something fresh. Dramatic turns of fortune and hair readth escapes from perils are pleasant, ecause we feel all such things are wonderful. !nd since what is natural is pleasant, and things akin to each other seem natural to each other, therefore all kindred and similar things are usuall" pleasant to each other# for instance, one man, horse, or "oung person is pleasant to another man, horse, or "oung person. Hence the pro%er s -mate delights mate+, -like to like+, - east knows east+, -'ackdaw to 'ackdaw+, and the rest of them. But since e%er"thing like and akin to oneself is pleasant, and since e%er" man is himself more like and akin to himself than an" one else is, it follows that all of us must e more or less fond of oursel%es. ,or all this resem lance and kinship is present particularl" in the relation of an indi%idual to himself. !nd ecause we are all fond of oursel%es, it follows that what is our own is pleasant to all of us, as for instance our own deeds and words. That is wh" we are usuall" fond of our flatterers, =our lo%ers,> and honour# also of our children, for our children are our own work. It is also pleasant to complete what is defecti%e, for the whole thing thereupon ecomes our own work. !nd since power o%er others is %er" pleasant, it is pleasant to e thought wise, for practical wisdom secures us power o%er others. 09cientific wisdom is also pleasant, ecause it is the knowledge of man" wonderful things.2 !gain, since most of us are am itious, it must e pleasant to disparage our neigh ours as well as to ha%e power o%er them. It is pleasant for a man to spend his time o%er what he feels he can do est# 'ust as the poet sa"s, To that he bends himself!

To that ea$h day allots most time! wherein -e is indeed the best #art of himself. 9imilarl", since amusement and e%er" kind of rela$ation and laughter too elong to the class of pleasant things, it follows that ludicrous things are pleasant, whether men, words, or deeds. 7e ha%e discussed the ludicrous separatel" in the treatise on the !rt of /oetr". 9o much for the su 'ect of pleasant things) " considering their opposites we can easil" see what things are unpleasant.

12
The a o%e are the moti%es that make men do wrong to others# we are ne$t to consider the states of mind in which the" do it, and the persons to whom the" do it. The" must themsel%es suppose that the thing can e done, and done " them) either that the" can do it without eing found out, or that if the" are found out the" can escape eing punished, or that if the" are punished the disad%antage will e less than the gain for themsel%es or those the" care for. The general su 'ect of apparent possi ilit" and impossi ilit" will e handled later on, since it is rele%ant not onl" to forensic ut to all kinds of speaking. But it ma" here e said that people think that the" can themsel%es most easil" do wrong to others without eing punished for it if the" possess elo&uence, or practical a ilit", or much legal e$perience, or a large od" of friends, or a great deal of mone". Their confidence is greatest if the" personall" possess the ad%antages mentioned) ut e%en without them the" are satisfied if the" ha%e friends or supporters or partners who do possess them) the" can thus oth commit their crimes and escape eing found out and punished for committing them. The" are also safe, the" think, if the" are on good terms with their %ictims or with the 'udges who tr" them. Their %ictims will in that case not e on their guard against eing wronged, and will make some arrangement with them instead of prosecuting# while their 'udges will fa%our them ecause the" like them, either letting them off altogether or imposing light sentences. The" are not likel" to e found out if their appearance contradicts the charges that might e rought against them) for instance, a weakling is unlikel" to e charged with %iolent assault, or a poor and ugl" man with adulter". /u lic and open in'uries are the easiest to do, ecause no od" could at all suppose them possi le, and therefore no precautions are taken. The same is true of crimes so great and terri le that no man li%ing could e suspected of them) here too no precautions are taken. ,or all men guard against ordinar" offences, 'ust as the" guard against ordinar" diseases# ut no one takes precautions against a disease that no od" has e%er had. Aou feel safe, too, if "ou ha%e either no enemies or a great man"# if "ou ha%e none, "ou e$pect not to e watched and therefore not to e detected# if "ou ha%e a great man", "ou will e watched, and therefore people will think "ou can ne%er risk an attempt on them, and "ou can defend "our innocence " pointing out that "ou could ne%er ha%e taken such a risk. Aou ma" also trust to hide "our crime " the wa" "ou do it or the place "ou do it in, or " some con%enient means of disposal. Aou ma" feel that e%en if "ou are found out "ou can sta%e off a trial, or ha%e it postponed, or corrupt "our 'udges) or that e%en if "ou are sentenced "ou can a%oid pa"ing damages, or can at least postpone doing so for a long time) or that "ou are so adl" off that "ou will ha%e nothing to lose. Aou ma" feel that the gain to e got " wrong*doing is great or certain or immediate, and that the penalt" is small or uncertain or distant. It ma" e that the ad%antage to e gained is greater than an" possi le retri ution) as in the case of despotic power, according to the popular %iew. Aou ma" consider "our crimes as ringing "ou solid profit, while their punishment is nothing more than eing called ad names. Or the opposite argument ma" appeal to "ou) "our crimes ma" ring "ou some credit 0thus "ou ma", incidentall", e a%enging "our father or mother, like Ceno2, whereas the punishment ma" amount to a fine, or anishment, or something of that sort. /eople ma" e led on to wrong others " either of these moti%es or feelings# ut no man " oth*the" will affect people of &uite opposite characters. Aou ma" e encouraged " ha%ing often escaped detection or punishment alread"# or " ha%ing often tried and

failed# for in crime, as in war, there are men who will alwa"s refuse to gi%e up the struggle. Aou ma" get "our pleasure on the spot and the pain later, or the gain on the spot and the loss later. That is what appeals to weak*willed persons:and weakness of will ma" e shown with regard to all the o 'ects of desire. It ma" on the contrar" appeal to "ou as it does appeal to self*controlled and sensi le people: that the pain and loss are immediate, while the pleasure and profit come later and last longer. Aou ma" feel a le to make it appear that "our crime was due to chance, or to necessit", or to natural causes, or to ha it) in fact, to put it generall", as if "ou had failed to do right rather than actuall" done wrong. Aou ma" e a le to trust other people to 'udge "ou e&uita l". Aou ma" e stimulated " eing in want) which ma" mean that "ou want necessaries, as poor people do, or that "ou want lu$uries, as rich people do. Aou ma" e encouraged " ha%ing a particularl" good reputation, ecause that will sa%e "ou from eing suspected) or " ha%ing a particularl" ad one, ecause nothing "ou are likel" to do will make it worse. The a o%e, then, are the %arious states of mind in which a man sets a out doing wrong to others. The kind of people to whom he does wrong, and the wa"s in which he does it, must e considered ne$t. The people to whom he does it are those who ha%e what he wants himself, whether this means necessities or lu$uries and materials for en'o"ment. His %ictims ma" e far off or near at hand. If the" are near, he gets his profit &uickl"# if the" are far off, %engeance is slow, as those think who plunder the Carthaginians. The" ma" e those who are trustful instead of eing cautious and watchful, since all such people are eas" to elude. Or those who are too eas"*going to ha%e enough energ" to prosecute an offender. Or sensiti%e people, who are not apt to show fight o%er &uestions of mone". Or those who ha%e een wronged alread" " man" people, and "et ha%e not prosecuted# such men must surel" e the pro%er ial -3"sian pre"+. Or those who ha%e either ne%er or often een wronged efore# in neither case will the" take precautions# if the" ha%e ne%er een wronged the" think the" ne%er will, and if the" ha%e often een wronged the" feel that surel" it cannot happen again. Or those whose character has een attacked in the past, or is e$posed to attack in the future) the" will e too much frightened of the 'udges to make up their minds to prosecute, nor can the" win their case if the" do) this is true of those who are hated or unpopular. !nother likel" class of %ictim is those who their in'urer can pretend ha%e, themsel%es or through their ancestors or friends, treated adl", or intended to treat adl", the man himself, or his ancestors, or those he cares for# as the pro%er sa"s, -wickedness needs ut a prete$t+. ! man ma" wrong his enemies, ecause that is pleasant) he ma" e&uall" wrong his friends, ecause that is eas". Then there are those who ha%e no friends, and those who lack elo&uence and practical capacit"# these will either not attempt to prosecute, or the" will come to terms, or failing that the" will lose their case. There are those whom it does not pa" to waste time in waiting for trial or damages, such as foreigners and small farmers# the" will settle for a trifle, and alwa"s e read" to lea%e off. !lso those who ha%e themsel%es wronged others, either often, or in the same wa" as the" are now eing wronged themsel%es*for it is felt that ne$t to no wrong is done to people when it is the same wrong as the" ha%e often themsel%es done to others) if, for instance, "ou assault a man who has een accustomed to eha%e with %iolence to others. 9o too with those who ha%e done wrong to others, or ha%e meant to, or mean to, or are likel" to do so# there is something fine and pleasant in wronging such persons, it seems as though almost no wrong were done. !lso those " doing wrong to whom we shall e gratif"ing our friends, or those we admire or lo%e, or our masters, or in general the people " reference to whom we mould our li%es. !lso those whom we ma" wrong and "et e sure of e&uita le treatment. !lso those against whom we ha%e had an" grie%ance, or an" pre%ious differences with them, as Callippus had when he eha%ed as he did to Dion) here too it seems as if almost no wrong were eing done. !lso those who are on the point of eing wronged " others if we fail to wrong them oursel%es, since here we feel we ha%e no time left for thinking the matter o%er. 9o !enesidemus is said to ha%e sent the -cotta us+ pri.e to ;elon, who had 'ust reduced a town to sla%er", ecause ;elon had got there first and forestalled his own attempt. !lso those " wronging whom we shall e a le to do man" righteous acts# for we feel that we can then easil" cure the harm done. Thus @ason the Thessalian said that it is a dut" to do some un'ust acts in order to e a le to do man" 'ust ones. !mong the kinds of wrong done to others are those that are done uni%ersall", or at least commonl") one e$pects to e forgi%en for doing these. !lso those that can easil" e kept dark, as where things that can rapidl" e consumed like eata les are concerned, or things that can easil" e changed in shape, colour, or com ination, or things that can easil" e stowed awa" almost an"where*porta le o 'ects that

"ou can stow awa" in small corners, or things so like others of which "ou ha%e plent" alread" that no od" can tell the difference. There are also wrongs of a kind that shame pre%ents the %ictim speaking a out, such as outrages done to the women in his household or to himself or to his sons. !lso those for which "ou would e thought %er" litigious to prosecute an" one*trifling wrongs, or wrongs for which people are usuall" e$cused. The a o%e is a fairl" complete account of the circumstances under which men do wrong to others, of the sort of wrongs the" do, of the sort of persons to whom the" do them, and of their reasons for doing them.

13
It will now e well to make a complete classification of 'ust and un'ust actions. 7e ma" egin " o ser%ing that the" ha%e een defined relati%el" to two kinds of law, and also relati%el" to two classes of persons. B" the two kinds of law I mean particular law and uni%ersal law. /articular law is that which each communit" la"s down and applies to its own mem ers) this is partl" written and partl" unwritten. <ni%ersal law is the law of (ature. ,or there reall" is, as e%er" one to some e$tent di%ines, a natural 'ustice and in'ustice that is inding on all men, e%en on those who ha%e no association or co%enant with each other. It is this that 9ophocles+ !ntigone clearl" means when she sa"s that the urial of /ol"neices was a 'ust act in spite of the prohi ition) she means that it was 'ust " nature. )ot of to-day or yesterday it is! .ut lives eternal/ none $an date its birth. !nd so Empedocles, when he ids us kill no li%ing creature, sa"s that doing this is not 'ust for some people while un'ust for others, )ay! but! an all-embra$in" law! throu"h the realms of the sky 0nbroken it stret$heth! and over the earth’s immensity. !nd as !lcidamas sa"s in his 3esseniac Oration.... The actions that we ought to do or not to do ha%e also een di%ided into two classes as affecting either the whole communit" or some one of its mem ers. ,rom this point of %iew we can perform 'ust or un'ust acts in either of two wa"s*towards one definite person, or towards the communit". The man who is guilt" of adulter" or assault is doing wrong to some definite person# the man who a%oids ser%ice in the arm" is doing wrong to the communit". Thus the whole class of un'ust actions ma" e di%ided into two classes, those affecting the communit", and those affecting one or more other persons. 7e will ne$t, efore going further, remind oursel%es of what - eing wronged+ means. 9ince it has alread" een settled that -doing a wrong+ must e intentional, - eing wronged+ must consist in ha%ing an in'ur" done to "ou " some one who intends to do it. In order to e wronged, a man must 012 suffer actual harm, 042 suffer it against his will. The %arious possi le forms of harm are clearl" e$plained " our pre%ious, separate discussion of goods and e%ils. 7e ha%e also seen that a %oluntar" action is one where the doer knows what he is doing. 7e now see that e%er" accusation must e of an action affecting either the communit" or some indi%idual. The doer of the action must either understand and intend the action, or not understand and intend it. In the former case, he must e acting either from deli erate choice or from passion. 0!nger will e discussed when we speak of the passions the moti%es for crime and the state of mind of the criminal ha%e alread" een discussed.2 (ow it often happens that a man will admit an act, ut will not admit the prosecutor+s la el for the act nor the facts which that la el implies. He will admit that he took a thing ut not that he -stole+ it# that he struck some one first, ut not that he committed -outrage+# that he had intercourse

with a woman, ut not that he committed -adulter"+# that he is guilt" of theft, ut not that he is guilt" of -sacrilege+, the o 'ect stolen not eing consecrated# that he has encroached, ut not that he has -encroached on 9tate lands+# that he has een in communication with the enem", ut not that he has een guilt" of -treason+. Here therefore we must e a le to distinguish what is theft, outrage, or adulter", from what is not, if we are to e a le to make the 'ustice of our case clear, no matter whether our aim is to esta lish a man+s guilt or to esta lish his innocence. 7here%er such charges are rought against a man, the &uestion is whether he is or is not guilt" of a criminal offence. It is deli erate purpose that constitutes wickedness and criminal guilt, and such names as -outrage+ or -theft+ impl" deli erate purpose as well as the mere action. ! low does not alwa"s amount to -outrage+, ut onl" if it is struck with some such purpose as to insult the man struck or gratif" the striker himself. (or does taking a thing without the owner+s knowledge alwa"s amount to -theft+, ut onl" if it is taken with the intention of keeping it and in'uring the owner. !nd as with these charges, so with all the others. 7e saw that there are two kinds of right and wrong conduct towards others, one pro%ided for " written ordinances, the other " unwritten. 7e ha%e now discussed the kind a out which the laws ha%e something to sa". The other kind has itself two %arieties. ,irst, there is the conduct that springs from e$ceptional goodness or adness, and is %isited accordingl" with censure and loss of honour, or with praise and increase of honour and decorations) for instance, gratitude to, or re&uital of, our enefactors, readiness to help our friends, and the like. The second kind makes up for the defects of a communit"+s written code of law. This is what we call e&uit"# people regard it as 'ust# it is, in fact, the sort of 'ustice which goes e"ond the written law. Its e$istence partl" is and partl" is not intended " legislators# not intended, where the" ha%e noticed no defect in the law# intended, where find themsel%es una le to define things e$actl", and are o liged to legislate as if that held good alwa"s which in fact onl" holds good usuall"# or where it is not eas" to e complete owing to the endless possi le cases presented, such as the kinds and si.es of weapons that ma" e used to inflict wounds*a lifetime would e too short to make out a complete list of these. If, then, a precise statement is impossi le and "et legislation is necessar", the law must e e$pressed in wide terms# and so, if a man has no more than a finger*ring on his hand when he lifts it to strike or actuall" strikes another man, he is guilt" of a criminal act according to the unwritten words of the law# ut he is innocent reall", and it is e&uit" that declares him to e so. ,rom this definition of e&uit" it is plain what sort of actions, and what sort of persons, are e&uita le or the re%erse. E&uit" must e applied to forgi%a le actions# and it must make us distinguish etween criminal acts on the one hand, and errors of 'udgement, or misfortunes, on the other. 0! -misfortune+ is an act, not due to moral adness, that has une$pected results) an -error of 'udgement+ is an act, also not due to moral adness, that has results that might ha%e een e$pected) a -criminal act+ has results that might ha%e een e$pected, ut is due to moral adness, for that is the source of all actions inspired " our appetites.2 E&uit" ids us e merciful to the weakness of human nature# to think less a out the laws than a out the man who framed them, and less a out what he said than a out what he meant# not to consider the actions of the accused so much as his intentions, nor this or that detail so much as the whole stor"# to ask not what a man is now ut what he has alwa"s or usuall" een. It ids us remem er enefits rather than in'uries, and enefits recei%ed rather than enefits conferred# to e patient when we are wronged# to settle a dispute " negotiation and not " force# to prefer ar itration to motion*for an ar itrator goes " the e&uit" of a case, a 'udge " the strict law, and ar itration was in%ented with the e$press purpose of securing full power for e&uit". The a o%e ma" e taken as a sufficient account of the nature of e&uit".

14
The worse of two acts of wrong done to others is that which is prompted " the worse disposition. Hence the most trifling acts ma" e the worst ones# as when Callistratus charged 3elanopus with ha%ing cheated the temple* uilders of three consecrated half*o ols. The con%erse is true of 'ust acts. This is ecause the greater is here potentiall" contained in the less) there is no crime that a man who has stolen three consecrated half*o ols would shrink from committing. 9ometimes, howe%er, the worse act is reckoned not in this wa" ut " the greater harm that it does. Or it ma" e ecause no punishment for it is se%ere enough to e ade&uate# or the harm done ma" e incura le*a difficult and

e%en hopeless crime to defend# or the sufferer ma" not e a le to get his in'urer legall" punished, a fact that makes the harm incura le, since legal punishment and chastisement are the proper cure. Or again, the man who has suffered wrong ma" ha%e inflicted some fearful punishment on himself# then the doer of the wrong ought in 'ustice to recei%e a still more fearful punishment. Thus 9ophocles, when pleading for retri ution to Euctemon, who had cut his own throat ecause of the outrage done to him, said he would not fi$ a penalt" less than the %ictim had fi$ed for himself. !gain, a man+s crime is worse if he has een the first man, or the onl" man, or almost the onl" man, to commit it) or if it is " no means the first time he has gone seriousl" wrong in the same wa") or if his crime has led to the thinking*out and in%ention of measures to pre%ent and punish similar crimes*thus in !rgos a penalt" is inflicted on a man on whose account a law is passed, and also on those on whose account the prison was uilt) or if a crime is speciall" rutal, or speciall" deli erate) or if the report of it awakes more terror than pit". There are also such rhetoricall" effecti%e wa"s of putting it as the following) That the accused has disregarded and roken not one ut man" solemn o ligations like oaths, promises, pledges, or rights of intermarriage etween states*here the crime is worse ecause it consists of man" crimes# and that the crime was committed in the %er" place where criminals are punished, as for e$ample per'urers do*it is argued that a man who will commit a crime in a law*court would commit it an"where. ,urther, the worse deed is that which in%ol%es the doer in special shame# that where " a man wrongs his enefactors*for he does more than one wrong, " not merel" doing them harm ut failing to do them good# that which reaks the unwritten laws of 'ustice*the etter sort of man will e 'ust without eing forced to e so, and the written laws depend on force while the unwritten ones do not. It ma" howe%er e argued otherwise, that the crime is worse which reaks the written laws) for the man who commits crimes for which terri le penalties are pro%ided will not hesitate o%er crimes for which no penalt" is pro%ided at all.*9o much, then, for the comparati%e adness of criminal actions.

15
There are also the so*called -non*technical+ means of persuasion# and we must now take a cursor" %iew of these, since the" are speciall" characteristic of forensic orator". The" are fi%e in num er) laws, witnesses, contracts, tortures, oaths. ,irst, then, let us take laws and see how the" are to e used in persuasion and dissuasion, in accusation and defence. If the written law tells against our case, clearl" we must appeal to the uni%ersal law, and insist on its greater e&uit" and 'ustice. 7e must argue that the 'uror+s oath -I will gi%e m" %erdict according to honest opinion+ means that one will not simpl" follow the letter of the written law. 7e must urge that the principles of e&uit" are permanent and changeless, and that the uni%ersal law does not change either, for it is the law of nature, whereas written laws often do change. This is the earing the lines in 9ophocles+ !ntigone, where !ntigone pleads that in ur"ing her rother she had roken Creon+s law, ut not the unwritten law) )ot of to-day or yesterday they are! .ut live eternal/ (none $an date their birth.) )ot & would fear the wrath of any man (And brave 1od’s ven"ean$e) for defyin" these. 7e shall argue that 'ustice indeed is true and profita le, ut that sham 'ustice is not, and that conse&uentl" the written law is not, ecause it does not fulfil the true purpose of law. Or that 'ustice is like sil%er, and must e assa"ed " the 'udges, if the genuine is to e distinguished from the counterfeit. Or that the etter a man is, the more he will follow and a ide " the unwritten law in preference to the written. Or perhaps that the law in &uestion contradicts some other highl"*esteemed law, or e%en contradicts itself. Thus it ma" e that one law will enact that all contracts must e held inding, while another for ids us e%er to make illegal contracts. Or if a law is am iguous, we shall turn

it a out and consider which construction est fits the interests of 'ustice or utilit", and then follow that wa" of looking at it. Or if, though the law still e$ists, the situation to meet which it was passed e$ists no longer, we must do our est to pro%e this and to com at the law there ". If howe%er the written law supports our case, we must urge that the oath -to gi%e m" %erdict according to m" honest opinion+ not meant to make the 'udges gi%e a %erdict that is contrar" to the law, ut to sa%e them from the guilt of per'ur" if the" misunderstand what the law reall" means. Or that no one chooses what is a solutel" good, ut e%er" one what is good for himself. Or that not to use the laws is as ahas to ha%e no laws at all. Or that, as in the other arts, it does not pa" to tr" to e cle%erer than the doctor) for less harm comes from the doctor+s mistakes than from the growing ha it of diso e"ing authorit". Or that tr"ing to e cle%erer than the laws is 'ust what is for idden " those codes of law that are accounted est.*9o far as the laws are concerned, the a o%e discussion is pro a l" sufficient. !s to witnesses, the" are of two kinds, the ancient and the recent# and these latter, again, either do or do not share in the risks of the trial. B" -ancient+ witnesses I mean the poets and all other nota le persons whose 'udgements are known to all. Thus the !thenians appealed to Homer as a witness a out 9alamis# and the men of Tenedos not long ago appealed to /eriander of Corinth in their dispute with the people of 9igeum# and Cleophon supported his accusation of Critias " &uoting the elegiac %erse of 9olon, maintaining that discipline had long een slack in the famil" of Critias, or 9olon would ne%er ha%e written, Pray thee! bid the red-haired %ritias do what his father $ommands him. These witnesses are concerned with past e%ents. !s to future e%ents we shall also appeal to soothsa"ers) thus Themistocles &uoted the oracle a out -the wooden wall+ as a reason for engaging the enem"+s fleet. ,urther, pro%er s are, as has een said, one form of e%idence. Thus if "ou are urging some od" not to make a friend of an old man, "ou will appeal to the pro%er , )ever show an old man kindness. Or if "ou are urging that he who has made awa" with fathers should also make awa" with their sons, &uote, 2ool! who slayeth the father and leaveth his sons to aven"e him. -Recent+ witnesses are well*known people who ha%e e$pressed their opinions a out some disputed matter) such opinions will e useful support for su se&uent disputants on the same oints) thus Eu ulus used in the law*courts against the repl" /lato had made to !rchi ius, -It has ecome the regular custom in this countr" to admit that one is a scoundrel+. There are also those witnesses who share the risk of punishment if their e%idence is pronounced false. These are %alid witnesses to the fact that an action was or was not done, that something is or is not the case# the" are not %alid witnesses to the &ualit" of an action, to its eing 'ust or un'ust, useful or harmful. On such &uestions of &ualit" the opinion of detached persons is highl" trustworth". 3ost trustworth" of all are the -ancient+ witnesses, since the" cannot e corrupted. In dealing with the e%idence of witnesses, the following are useful arguments. If "ou ha%e no witnesses on "our side, "ou will argue that the 'udges must decide from what is pro a le# that this is meant " -gi%ing a %erdict in accordance with one+s honest opinion+# that pro a ilities cannot e ri ed to mislead the court# and that pro a ilities are ne%er con%icted of per'ur". If "ou ha%e witnesses, and the other man has not, "ou will argue that pro a ilities cannot e put on their trial, and that we could do without the e%idence of witnesses altogether if we need do no more than alance the pleas ad%anced on either side. The e%idence of witnesses ma" refer either to oursel%es or to our opponent# and either to &uestions of fact or to &uestions of personal character) so, clearl", we need ne%er e at a loss for useful e%idence. ,or if we ha%e no e%idence of fact supporting our own case or telling against that of our opponent, at

least we can alwa"s find e%idence to pro%e our own worth or our opponent+s worthlessness. Other arguments a out a witness*that he is a friend or an enem" or neutral, or has a good, ad, or indifferent reputation, and an" other such distinctions*we must construct upon the same general lines as we use for the regular rhetorical proofs. Concerning contracts argument can e so far emplo"ed as to increase or diminish their importance and their credi ilit"# we shall tr" to increase oth if the" tell in our fa%our, and to diminish oth if the" tell in fa%our of our opponent. (ow for confirming or upsetting the credi ilit" of contracts the procedure is 'ust the same as for dealing with witnesses, for the credit to e attached to contracts depends upon the character of those who ha%e signed them or ha%e the custod" of them. The contract eing once admitted genuine, we must insist on its importance, if it supports our case. 7e ma" argue that a contract is a law, though of a special and limited kind# and that, while contracts do not of course make the law inding, the law does make an" lawful contract inding, and that the law itself as a whole is a of contract, so that an" one who disregards or repudiates an" contract is repudiating the law itself. ,urther, most usiness relations*those, namel", that are %oluntar"*are regulated " contracts, and if these lose their inding force, human intercourse ceases to e$ist. 7e need not go %er" deep to disco%er the other appropriate arguments of this kind. If, howe%er, the contract tells against us and for our opponents, in the first place those arguments are suita le which we can use to fight a law that tells against us. 7e do not regard oursel%es as ound to o ser%e a ad law which it was a mistake e%er to pass) and it is ridiculous to suppose that we are ound to o ser%e a ad and mistaken contract. !gain, we ma" argue that the dut" of the 'udge as umpire is to decide what is 'ust, and therefore he must ask where 'ustice lies, and not what this or that document means. !nd that it is impossi le to per%ert 'ustice " fraud or " force, since it is founded on nature, ut a part" to a contract ma" e the %ictim of either fraud or force. 3oreo%er, we must see if the contract contra%enes either uni%ersal law or an" written law of our own or another countr"# and also if it contradicts an" other pre%ious or su se&uent contract# arguing that the su se&uent is the inding contract, or else that the pre%ious one was right and the su se&uent one fraudulent*whiche%er wa" suits us. ,urther, we must consider the &uestion of utilit", noting whether the contract is against the interest of the 'udges or not# and so on*these arguments are as o %ious as the others. E$amination " torture is one form of e%idence, to which great weight is often attached ecause it is in a sense compulsor". Here again it is not hard to point out the a%aila le grounds for magnif"ing its %alue, if it happens to tell in our fa%our, and arguing that it is the onl" form of e%idence that is infalli le# or, on the other hand, for refuting it if it tells against us and for our opponent, when we ma" sa" what is true of torture of e%er" kind alike, that people under its compulsion tell lies &uite as often as the" tell the truth, sometimes persistentl" refusing to tell the truth, sometimes recklessl" making a false charge in order to e let off sooner. 7e ought to e a le to &uote cases, familiar to the 'udges, in which this sort of thing has actuall" happened. =7e must sa" that e%idence under torture is not trustworth", the fact eing that man" men whether thick*witted, tough*skinned, or stout of heart endure their ordeal no l", while cowards and timid men are full of oldness till the" see the ordeal of these others) so that no trust can e placed in e%idence under torture.> In regard to oaths, a fourfold di%ision can e made. ! man ma" either oth offer and accept an oath, or neither, or one without the other*that is, he ma" offer an oath ut not accept one, or accept an oath ut not offer one. There is also the situation that arises when an oath has alread" een sworn either " himself or " his opponent. If "ou refuse to offer an oath, "ou ma" argue that men do not hesitate to per'ure themsel%es# and that if "our opponent does swear, "ou lose "our mone", whereas, if he does not, "ou think the 'udges will decide against him# and that the risk of an unfa%oura le %erdict is prefer, a le, since "ou trust the 'udges and do not trust him. If "ou refuse to accept an oath, "ou ma" argue that an oath is alwa"s paid for# that "ou would of course ha%e taken it if "ou had een a rascal, since if "ou are a rascal "ou had etter make something " it, and "ou would in that case ha%e to swear in order to succeed. Thus "our refusal, "ou argue, must e

due to high principle, not to fear of per'ur") and "ou ma" aptl" &uote the sa"ing of Denophanes, *Tis not fair that he who fears not 1od should $hallen"e him who doth. It is as if a strong man were to challenge a weakling to strike, or e struck ", him. If "ou agree to accept an oath, "ou ma" argue that "ou trust "ourself ut not "our opponent# and that 0to in%ert the remark of Denophanes2 the fair thing is for the impious man to offer the oath and for the pious man to accept it# and that it would e monstrous if "ou "ourself were unwilling to accept an oath in a case where "ou demand that the 'udges should do so efore gi%ing their %erdict. If "ou wish to offer an oath, "ou ma" argue that piet" disposes "ou to commit the issue to the gods# and that "our opponent ought not to want other 'udges than himself, since "ou lea%e the decision with him# and that it is outrageous for "our opponents to refuse to swear a out this &uestion, when the" insist that others should do so. (ow that we see how we are to argue in each case separatel", we see also how we are to argue when the" occur in pairs, namel", when "ou are willing to accept the oath ut not to offer it# to offer it ut not to accept it# oth to accept and to offer it# or to do neither. These are of course com inations of the cases alread" mentioned, and so "our arguments also must e com inations of the arguments alread" mentioned. If "ou ha%e alread" sworn an oath that contradicts "our present one, "ou must argue that it is not per'ur", since per'ur" is a crime, and a crime must e a %oluntar" action, whereas actions due to the force or fraud of others are in%oluntar". Aou must further reason from this that per'ur" depends on the intention and not on the spoken words. But if it is "our opponent who has alread" sworn an oath that contradicts his present one, "ou must sa" that if he does not a ide " his oaths he is the enem" of societ", and that this is the reason wh" men take an oath efore administering the laws. -3" opponents insist that "ou, the 'udges, must a ide " the oath "ou ha%e sworn, and "et the" are not a iding " their own oaths.+ !nd there are other arguments which ma" e used to magnif" the importance of the oath. =9o much, then, for the -non*technical+ modes of persuasion.> 0!ristotle. 3hetori$. 12. E% k)8FGGGFHIJ11Koutline012L

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