Book IX
1
In all friendships between dissimilars it
is, as we have said, proportion that equalizes
the parties and preserves the friendship;
e. g. in the political form of friendship
the shoemaker gets a return for his shoes
in proportion to his worth, and the weaver
and all other craftsmen do the same. Now
here a common measure has been provided in
the form of money, and therefore everything
is referred to this and measured by this;
but in the friendship of lovers sometimes
the lover complains that his excess of love
is not met by love in return though perhaps
there is nothing lovable about him), while
often the beloved complains that the lover
who formerly promised everything now performs
nothing. Such incidents happen when the lover
loves the beloved for the sake of pleasure
while the beloved loves the lover for the
sake of utility, and they do not both possess
the qualities expected of them. If these
be the objects of the friendship it is dissolved
when they do not get the things that formed
the motives of their love; for each did not
love the other person himself but the qualities
he had, and these were not enduring; that
is why the friendships also are transient.
But the love of characters, as has been said,
endures because it is self-dependent. Differences
arise when what they get is something different
and not what they desire; for it is like
getting nothing at all when we do not get
what we aim at; compare the story of the
person who made promises to a lyre-player,
promising him the more, the better he sang,
but in the morning, when the other demanded
the fulfilment of his promises, said that
he had given pleasure for pleasure. Now if
this had been what each wanted, all would
have been well; but if the one wanted enjoyment
but the other gain, and the one has what
he wants while the other has not, the terms
of the association will not have been properly
fulfilled; for what each in fact wants is
what he attends to, and it is for the sake
of that that that he will give what he has.
But who is to fix the worth of the service;
he who makes the sacrifice or he who has
got the advantage? At any rate the other
seems to leave it to him. This is what they
say Protagoras used to do; whenever he taught
anything whatsoever, he bade the learner
assess the value of the knowledge, and accepted
the amount so fixed. But in such matters
some men approve of the saying 'let a man
have his fixed reward'. Those who get the
money first and then do none of the things
they said they would, owing to the extravagance
of their promises, naturally find themselves
the objects of complaint; for they do not
fulfil what they agreed to. The sophists
are perhaps compelled to do this because
no one would give money for the things they
do know. These people then, if they do not
do what they have been paid for, are naturally
made the objects of complaint.
But where there is no contract of service,
those who give up something for the sake
of the other party cannot (as we have said)
be complained of (for that is the nature
of the friendship of virtue), and the return
to them must be made on the basis of their
purpose (for it is purpose that is the characteristic
thing in a friend and in virtue). And so
too, it seems, should one make a return to
those with whom one has studied philosophy;
for their worth cannot be measured against
money, and they can get no honour which will
balance their services, but still it is perhaps
enough, as it is with the gods and with one's
parents, to give them what one can.
If the gift was not of this sort, but was
made with a view to a return, it is no doubt
preferable that the return made should be
one that seems fair to both parties, but
if this cannot be achieved, it would seem
not only necessary that the person who gets
the first service should fix the reward,
but also just; for if the other gets in return
the equivalent of the advantage the beneficiary
has received, or the price lie would have
paid for the pleasure, he will have got what
is fair as from the other.
We see this happening too with things put
up for sale, and in some places there are
laws providing that no actions shall arise
out of voluntary contracts, on the assumption
that one should settle with a person to whom
one has given credit, in the spirit in which
one bargained with him. The law holds that
it is more just that the person to whom credit
was given should fix the terms than that
the person who gave credit should do so.
For most things are not assessed at the same
value by those who have them and those who
want them; each class values highly what
is its own and what it is offering; yet the
return is made on the terms fixed by the
receiver. But no doubt the receiver should
assess a thing not at what it seems worth
when he has it, but at what he assessed it
at before he had it.
2
A further problem is set by such questions
as, whether one should in all things give
the preference to one's father and obey him,
or whether when one is ill one should trust
a doctor, and when one has to elect a general
should elect a man of military skill; and
similarly whether one should render a service
by preference to a friend or to a good man,
and should show gratitude to a benefactor
or oblige a friend, if one cannot do both.
All such questions are hard, are they not,
to decide with precision? For they admit
of many variations of all sorts in respect
both of the magnitude of the service and
of its nobility necessity. But that we should
not give the preference in all things to
the same person is plain enough; and we must
for the most part return benefits rather
than oblige friends, as we must pay back
a loan to a creditor rather than make one
to a friend. But perhaps even this is not
always true; e. g. should a man who has been
ransomed out of the hands of brigands ransom
his ransomer in return, whoever he may be
(or pay him if he has not been captured but
demands payment) or should he ransom his
father? It would seem that he should ransom
his father in preference even to himself.
As we have said, then, generally the debt
should be paid, but if the gift is exceedingly
noble or exceedingly necessary, one should
defer to these considerations. For sometimes
it is not even fair to return the equivalent
of what one has received, when the one man
has done a service to one whom he knows to
be good, while the other makes a return to
one whom he believes to be bad. For that
matter, one should sometimes not lend in
return to one who has lent to oneself; for
the one person lent to a good man, expecting
to recover his loan, while the other has
no hope of recovering from one who is believed
to be bad. Therefore if the facts really
are so, the demand is not fair; and if they
are not, but people think they are, they
would be held to be doing nothing strange
in refusing. As we have often pointed out,
then, discussions about feelings and actions
have just as much definiteness as their subject-matter.
That we should not make the same return to
every one, nor give a father the preference
in everything, as one does not sacrifice
everything to Zeus, is plain enough; but
since we ought to render different things
to parents, brothers, comrades, and benefactors,
we ought to render to each class what is
appropriate and becoming. And this is what
people seem in fact to do; to marriages they
invite their kinsfolk; for these have a part
in the family and therefore in the doings
that affect the family; and at funerals also
they think that kinsfolk, before all others,
should meet, for the same reason. And it
would be thought that in the matter of food
we should help our parents before all others,
since we owe our own nourishment to them,
and it is more honourable to help in this
respect the authors of our being even before
ourselves; and honour too one should give
to one's parents as one does to the gods,
but not any and every honour; for that matter
one should not give the same honour to one's
father and one's mother, nor again should
one give them the honour due to a philosopher
or to a general, but the honour due to a
father, or again to a mother. To all older
persons, too, one should give honour appropriate
to their age, by rising to receive them and
finding seats for them and so on; while to
comrades and brothers one should allow freedom
of speech and common use of all things. To
kinsmen, too, and fellow-tribesmen and fellow-citizens
and to every other class one should always
try to assign what is appropriate, and to
compare the claims of each class with respect
to nearness of relation and to virtue or
usefulness. The comparison is easier when
the persons belong to the same class, and
more laborious when they are different. Yet
we must not on that account shrink from the
task, but decide the question as best we
can.
3
Another question that arises is whether friendships
should or should not be broken off when the
other party does not remain the same. Perhaps
we may say that there is nothing strange
in breaking off a friendship based on utility
or pleasure, when our friends no longer have
these attributes. For it was of these attributes
that we were the friends; and when these
have failed it is reasonable to love no longer.
But one might complain of another if, when
he loved us for our usefulness or pleasantness,
he pretended to love us for our character.
For, as we said at the outset, most differences
arise between friends when they are not friends
in the spirit in which they think they are.
So when a man has deceived himself and has
thought he was being loved for his character,
when the other person was doing nothing of
the kind, he must blame himself; when he
has been deceived by the pretences of the
other person, it is just that he should complain
against his deceiver; he will complain with
more justice than one does against people
who counterfeit the currency, inasmuch as
the wrongdoing is concerned with something
more valuable.
But if one accepts another man as good, and
he turns out badly and is seen to do so,
must one still love him? Surely it is impossible,
since not everything can be loved, but only
what is good. What is evil neither can nor
should be loved; for it is not one's duty
to be a lover of evil, nor to become like
what is bad; and we have said that like is
dear like. Must the friendship, then, be
forthwith broken off? Or is this not so in
all cases, but only when one's friends are
incurable in their wickedness? If they are
capable of being reformed one should rather
come to the assistance of their character
or their property, inasmuch as this is better
and more characteristic of friendship. But
a man who breaks off such a friendship would
seem to be doing nothing strange; for it
was not to a man of this sort that he was
a friend; when his friend has changed, therefore,
and he is unable to save him, he gives him
up.
But if one friend remained the same while
the other became better and far outstripped
him in virtue, should the latter treat the
former as a friend? Surely he cannot. When
the interval is great this becomes most plain,
e. g. in the case of childish friendships;
if one friend remained a child in intellect
while the other became a fully developed
man, how could they be friends when they
neither approved of the same things nor delighted
in and were pained by the same things? For
not even with regard to each other will their
tastes agree, and without this (as we saw)
they cannot be friends; for they cannot live
together. But we have discussed these matters.
Should he, then, behave no otherwise towards
him than he would if he had never been his
friend? Surely he should keep a remembrance
of their former intimacy, and as we think
we ought to oblige friends rather than strangers,
so to those who have been our friends we
ought to make some allowance for our former
friendship, when the breach has not been
due to excess of wickedness.
4
Friendly relations with one's neighbours,
and the marks by which friendships are defined,
seem to have proceeded from a man's relations
to himself. For (1) we define a friend as
one who wishes and does what is good, or
seems so, for the sake of his friend, or
(2) as one who wishes his friend to exist
and live, for his sake; which mothers do
to their children, and friends do who have
come into conflict. And (3) others define
him as one who lives with and (4) has the
same tastes as another, or (5) one who grieves
and rejoices with his friend; and this too
is found in mothers most of all. It is by
some one of these characterstics that friendship
too is defined.
Now each of these is true of the good man's
relation to himself (and of all other men
in so far as they think themselves good;
virtue and the good man seem, as has been
said, to be the measure of every class of
things). For his opinions are harmonious,
and he desires the same things with all his
soul; and therefore he wishes for himself
what is good and what seems so, and does
it (for it is characteristic of the good
man to work out the good), and does so for
his own sake (for he does it for the sake
of the intellectual element in him, which
is thought to be the man himself); and he
wishes himself to live and be preserved,
and especially the element by virtue of which
he thinks. For existence is good to the virtuous
man, and each man wishes himself what is
good, while no one chooses to possess the
whole world if he has first to become some
one else (for that matter, even now God possesses
the good); he wishes for this only on condition
of being whatever he is; and the element
that thinks would seem to be the individual
man, or to be so more than any other element
in him. And such a man wishes to live with
himself; for he does so with pleasure, since
the memories of his past acts are delightful
and his hopes for the future are good, and
therefore pleasant. His mind is well stored
too with subjects of contemplation. And he
grieves and rejoices, more than any other,
with himself; for the same thing is always
painful, and the same thing always pleasant,
and not one thing at one time and another
at another; he has, so to speak, nothing
to repent of.
Therefore, since each of these characteristics
belongs to the good man in relation to himself,
and he is related to his friend as to himself
(for his friend is another self), friendship
too is thought to be one of these attributes,
and those who have these attributes to be
friends. Whether there is or is not friendship
between a man and himself is a question we
may dismiss for the present; there would
seem to be friendship in so far as he is
two or more, to judge from the afore-mentioned
attributes of friendship, and from the fact
that the extreme of friendship is likened
to one's love for oneself.
But the attributes named seem to belong even
to the majority of men, poor creatures though
they may be. Are we to say then that in so
far as they are satisfied with themselves
and think they are good, they share in these
attributes? Certainly no one who is thoroughly
bad and impious has these attributes, or
even seems to do so. They hardly belong even
to inferior people; for they are at variance
with themselves, and have appetites for some
things and rational desires for others. This
is true, for instance, of incontinent people;
for they choose, instead of the things they
themselves think good, things that are pleasant
but hurtful; while others again, through
cowardice and laziness, shrink from doing
what they think best for themselves. And
those who have done many terrible deeds and
are hated for their wickedness even shrink
from life and destroy themselves. And wicked
men seek for people with whom to spend their
days, and shun themselves; for they remember
many a grevious deed, and anticipate others
like them, when they are by themselves, but
when they are with others they forget. And
having nothing lovable in them they have
no feeling of love to themselves. Therefore
also such men do not rejoice or grieve with
themselves; for their soul is rent by faction,
and one element in it by reason of its wickedness
grieves when it abstains from certain acts,
while the other part is pleased, and one
draws them this way and the other that, as
if they were pulling them in pieces. If a
man cannot at the same time be pained and
pleased, at all events after a short time
he is pained because he was pleased, and
he could have wished that these things had
not been pleasant to him; for bad men are
laden with repentance.
Therefore the bad man does not seem to be
amicably disposed even to himself, because
there is nothing in him to love; so that
if to be thus is the height of wretchedness,
we should strain every nerve to avoid wickedness
and should endeavour to be good; for so and
only so can one be either friendly to oneself
or a friend to another.
5
Goodwill is a friendly sort of relation,
but is not identical with friendship; for
one may have goodwill both towards people
whom one does not know, and without their
knowing it, but not friendship. This has
indeed been said already.' But goodwill is
not even friendly feeling. For it does not
involve intensity or desire, whereas these
accompany friendly feeling; and friendly
feeling implies intimacy while goodwill may
arise of a sudden, as it does towards competitors
in a contest; we come to feel goodwill for
them and to share in their wishes, but we
would not do anything with them; for, as
we said, we feel goodwill suddenly and love
them only superficially.
Goodwill seems, then, to be a beginning of
friendship, as the pleasure of the eye is
the beginning of love. For no one loves if
he has not first been delighted by the form
of the beloved, but he who delights in the
form of another does not, for all that, love
him, but only does so when he also longs
for him when absent and craves for his presence;
so too it is not possible for people to be
friends if they have not come to feel goodwill
for each other, but those who feel goodwill
are not for all that friends; for they only
wish well to those for whom they feel goodwill,
and would not do anything with them nor take
trouble for them. And so one might by an
extension of the term friendship say that
goodwill is inactive friendship, though when
it is prolonged and reaches the point of
intimacy it becomes friendship-not the friendship
based on utility nor that based on pleasure;
for goodwill too does not arise on those
terms. The man who has received a benefit
bestows goodwill in return for what has been
done to him, but in doing so is only doing
what is just; while he who wishes some one
to prosper because he hopes for enrichment
through him seems to have goodwill not to
him but rather to himself, just as a man
is not a friend to another if he cherishes
him for the sake of some use to be made of
him. In general, goodwill arises on account
of some excellence and worth, when one man
seems to another beautiful or brave or something
of the sort, as we pointed out in the case
of competitors in a contest.
6
Unanimity also seems to be a friendly relation.
For this reason it is not identity of opinion;
for that might occur even with people who
do not know each other; nor do we say that
people who have the same views on any and
every subject are unanimous, e. g. those
who agree about the heavenly bodies (for
unanimity about these is not a friendly relation),
but we do say that a city is unanimous when
men have the same opinion about what is to
their interest, and choose the same actions,
and do what they have resolved in common.
It is about things to be done, therefore,
that people are said to be unanimous, and,
among these, about matters of consequence
and in which it is possible for both or all
parties to get what they want; e. g. a city
is unanimous when all its citizens think
that the offices in it should be elective,
or that they should form an alliance with
Sparta, or that Pittacus should be their
ruler-at a time when he himself was also
willing to rule. But when each of two people
wishes himself to have the thing in question,
like the captains in the Phoenissae, they
are in a state of faction; for it is not
unanimity when each of two parties thinks
of the same thing, whatever that may be,
but only when they think of the same thing
in the same hands, e. g. when both the common
people and those of the better class wish
the best men to rule; for thus and thus alone
do all get what they aim at. Unanimity seems,
then, to be political friendship, as indeed
it is commonly said to be; for it is concerned
with things that are to our interest and
have an influence on our life.
Now such unanimity is found among good men;
for they are unanimous both in themselves
and with one another, being, so to say, of
one mind (for the wishes of such men are
constant and not at the mercy of opposing
currents like a strait of the sea), and they
wish for what is just and what is advantageous,
and these are the objects of their common
endeavour as well. But bad men cannot be
unanimous except to a small extent, any more
than they can be friends, since they aim
at getting more than their share of advantages,
while in labour and public service they fall
short of their share; and each man wishing
for advantage to himself criticizes his neighbour
and stands in his way; for if people do not
watch it carefully the common weal is soon
destroyed. The result is that they are in
a state of faction, putting compulsion on
each other but unwilling themselves to do
what is just.
7
Benefactors are thought to love those they
have benefited, more than those who have
been well treated love those that have treated
them well, and this is discussed as though
it were paradoxical. Most people think it
is because the latter are in the position
of debtors and the former of creditors; and
therefore as, in the case of loans, debtors
wish their creditors did not exist, while
creditors actually take care of the safety
of their debtors, so it is thought that benefactors
wish the objects of their action to exist
since they will then get their gratitude,
while the beneficiaries take no interest
in making this return. Epicharmus would perhaps
declare that they say this because they 'look
at things on their bad side', but it is quite
like human nature; for most people are forgetful,
and are more anxious to be well treated than
to treat others well. But the cause would
seem to be more deeply rooted in the nature
of things; the case of those who have lent
money is not even analogous. For they have
no friendly feeling to their debtors, but
only a wish that they may kept safe with
a view to what is to be got from them; while
those who have done a service to others feel
friendship and love for those they have served
even if these are not of any use to them
and never will be. This is what happens with
craftsmen too; every man loves his own handiwork
better than he would be loved by it if it
came alive; and this happens perhaps most
of all with poets; for they have an excessive
love for their own poems, doting on them
as if they were their children. This is what
the position of benefactors is like; for
that which they have treated well is their
handiwork, and therefore they love this more
than the handiwork does its maker. The cause
of this is that existence is to all men a
thing to be chosen and loved, and that we
exist by virtue of activity (i. e. by living
and acting), and that the handiwork is in
a sense, the producer in activity; he loves
his handiwork, therefore, because he loves
existence. And this is rooted in the nature
of things; for what he is in potentiality,
his handiwork manifests in activity.
At the same time to the benefactor that is
noble which depends on his action, so that
he delights in the object of his action,
whereas to the patient there is nothing noble
in the agent, but at most something advantageous,
and this is less pleasant and lovable. What
is pleasant is the activity of the present,
the hope of the future, the memory of the
past; but most pleasant is that which depends
on activity, and similarly this is most lovable.
Now for a man who has made something his
work remains (for the noble is lasting),
but for the person acted on the utility passes
away. And the memory of noble things is pleasant,
but that of useful things is not likely to
be pleasant, or is less so; though the reverse
seems true of expectation.
Further, love is like activity, being loved
like passivity; and loving and its concomitants
are attributes of those who are the more
active.
Again, all men love more what they have won
by labour; e. g. those who have made their
money love it more than those who have inherited
it; and to be well treated seems to involve
no labour, while to treat others well is
a laborious task. These are the reasons,
too, why mothers are fonder of their children
than fathers; bringing them into the world
costs them more pains, and they know better
that the children are their own. This last
point, too, would seem to apply to benefactors.
8
The question is also debated, whether a man
should love himself most, or some one else.
People criticize those who love themselves
most, and call them self-lovers, using this
as an epithet of disgrace, and a bad man
seems to do everything for his own sake,
and the more so the more wicked he is-and
so men reproach him, for instance, with doing
nothing of his own accord-while the good
man acts for honour's sake, and the more
so the better he is, and acts for his friend's
sake, and sacrifices his own interest.
But the facts clash with these arguments,
and this is not surprising. For men say that
one ought to love best one's best friend,
and man's best friend is one who wishes well
to the object of his wish for his sake, even
if no one is to know of it; and these attributes
are found most of all in a man's attitude
towards himself, and so are all the other
attributes by which a friend is defined;
for, as we have said, it is from this relation
that all the characteristics of friendship
have extended to our neighbours. All the
proverbs, too, agree with this, e. g. 'a
single soul', and 'what friends have is common
property', and 'friendship is equality',
and 'charity begins at home'; for all these
marks will be found most in a man's relation
to himself; he is his own best friend and
therefore ought to love himself best. It
is therefore a reasonable question, which
of the two views we should follow; for both
are plausible.
Perhaps we ought to mark off such arguments
from each other and determine how far and
in what respects each view is right. Now
if we grasp the sense in which each school
uses the phrase 'lover of self', the truth
may become evident. Those who use the term
as one of reproach ascribe self-love to people
who assign to themselves the greater share
of wealth, honours, and bodily pleasures;
for these are what most people desire, and
busy themselves about as though they were
the best of all things, which is the reason,
too, why they become objects of competition.
So those who are grasping with regard to
these things gratify their appetites and
in general their feelings and the irrational
element of the soul; and most men are of
this nature (which is the reason why the
epithet has come to be used as it is-it takes
its meaning from the prevailing type of self-love,
which is a bad one); it is just, therefore,
that men who are lovers of self in this way
are reproached for being so. That it is those
who give themselves the preference in regard
to objects of this sort that most people
usually call lovers of self is plain; for
if a man were always anxious that he himself,
above all things, should act justly, temperately,
or in accordance with any other of the virtues,
and in general were always to try to secure
for himself the honourable course, no one
will call such a man a lover of self or blame
him.
But such a man would seem more than the other
a lover of self; at all events he assigns
to himself the things that are noblest and
best, and gratifies the most authoritative
element in and in all things obeys this;
and just as a city or any other systematic
whole is most properly identified with the
most authoritative element in it, so is a
man; and therefore the man who loves this
and gratifies it is most of all a lover of
self. Besides, a man is said to have or not
to have self-control according as his reason
has or has not the control, on the assumption
that this is the man himself; and the things
men have done on a rational principle are
thought most properly their own acts and
voluntary acts. That this is the man himself,
then, or is so more than anything else, is
plain, and also that the good man loves most
this part of him. Whence it follows that
he is most truly a lover of self, of another
type than that which is a matter of reproach,
and as different from that as living according
to a rational principle is from living as
passion dictates, and desiring what is noble
from desiring what seems advantageous. Those,
then, who busy themselves in an exceptional
degree with noble actions all men approve
and praise; and if all were to strive towards
what is noble and strain every nerve to do
the noblest deeds, everything would be as
it should be for the common weal, and every
one would secure for himself the goods that
are greatest, since virtue is the greatest
of goods.
Therefore the good man should be a lover
of self (for he will both himself profit
by doing noble acts, and will benefit his
fellows), but the wicked man should not;
for he will hurt both himself and his neighbours,
following as he does evil passions. For the
wicked man, what he does clashes with what
he ought to do, but what the good man ought
to do he does; for reason in each of its
possessors chooses what is best for itself,
and the good man obeys his reason. It is
true of the good man too that he does many
acts for the sake of his friends and his
country, and if necessary dies for them;
for he will throw away both wealth and honours
and in general the goods that are objects
of competition, gaining for himself nobility;
since he would prefer a short period of intense
pleasure to a long one of mild enjoyment,
a twelvemonth of noble life to many years
of humdrum existence, and one great and noble
action to many trivial ones. Now those who
die for others doubtless attain this result;
it is therefore a great prize that they choose
for themselves. They will throw away wealth
too on condition that their friends will
gain more; for while a man's friend gains
wealth he himself achieves nobility; he is
therefore assigning the greater good to himself.
The same too is true of honour and office;
all these things he will sacrifice to his
friend; for this is noble and laudable for
himself. Rightly then is he thought to be
good, since he chooses nobility before all
else. But he may even give up actions to
his friend; it may be nobler to become the
cause of his friend's acting than to act
himself. In all the actions, therefore, that
men are praised for, the good man is seen
to assign to himself the greater share in
what is noble. In this sense, then, as has
been said, a man should be a lover of self;
but in the sense in which most men are so,
he ought not.
9
It is also disputed whether the happy man
will need friends or not. It is said that
those who are supremely happy and self-sufficient
have no need of friends; for they have the
things that are good, and therefore being
self-sufficient they need nothing further,
while a friend, being another self, furnishes
what a man cannot provide by his own effort;
whence the saying 'when fortune is kind,
what need of friends?' But it seems strange,
when one assigns all good things to the happy
man, not to assign friends, who are thought
the greatest of external goods. And if it
is more characteristic of a friend to do
well by another than to be well done by,
and to confer benefits is characteristic
of the good man and of virtue, and it is
nobler to do well by friends than by strangers,
the good man will need people to do well
by. This is why the question is asked whether
we need friends more in prosperity or in
adversity, on the assumption that not only
does a man in adversity need people to confer
benefits on him, but also those who are prospering
need people to do well by. Surely it is strange,
too, to make the supremely happy man a solitary;
for no one would choose the whole world on
condition of being alone, since man is a
political creature and one whose nature is
to live with others. Therefore even the happy
man lives with others; for he has the things
that are by nature good. And plainly it is
better to spend his days with friends and
good men than with strangers or any chance
persons. Therefore the happy man needs friends.
What then is it that the first school means,
and in what respect is it right? Is it that
most identify friends with useful people?
Of such friends indeed the supremely happy
man will have no need, since he already has
the things that are good; nor will he need
those whom one makes one's friends because
of their pleasantness, or he will need them
only to a small extent (for his life, being
pleasant, has no need of adventitious pleasure);
and because he does not need such friends
he is thought not to need friends.
But that is surely not true. For we have
said at the outset that happiness is an activity;
and activity plainly comes into being and
is not present at the start like a piece
of property. If (1) happiness lies in living
and being active, and the good man's activity
is virtuous and pleasant in itself, as we
have said at the outset, and (2) a thing's
being one's own is one of the attributes
that make it pleasant, and (3) we can contemplate
our neighbours better than ourselves and
their actions better than our own, and if
the actions of virtuous men who are their
friends are pleasant to good men (since these
have both the attributes that are naturally
pleasant),-if this be so, the supremely happy
man will need friends of this sort, since
his purpose is to contemplate worthy actions
and actions that are his own, and the actions
of a good man who is his friend have both
these qualities.
Further, men think that the happy man ought
to live pleasantly. Now if he were a solitary,
life would be hard for him; for by oneself
it is not easy to be continuously active;
but with others and towards others it is
easier. With others therefore his activity
will be more continuous, and it is in itself
pleasant, as it ought to be for the man who
is supremely happy; for a good man qua good
delights in virtuous actions and is vexed
at vicious ones, as a musical man enjoys
beautiful tunes but is pained at bad ones.
A certain training in virtue arises also
from the company of the good, as Theognis
has said before us.
If we look deeper into the nature of things,
a virtuous friend seems to be naturally desirable
for a virtuous man. For that which is good
by nature, we have said, is for the virtuous
man good and pleasant in itself. Now life
is defined in the case of animals by the
power of perception in that of man by the
power of perception or thought; and a power
is defined by reference to the corresponding
activity, which is the essential thing; therefore
life seems to be essentially the act of perceiving
or thinking. And life is among the things
that are good and pleasant in themselves,
since it is determinate and the determinate
is of the nature of the good; and that which
is good by nature is also good for the virtuous
man (which is the reason why life seems pleasant
to all men); but we must not apply this to
a wicked and corrupt life nor to a life spent
in pain; for such a life is indeterminate,
as are its attributes. The nature of pain
will become plainer in what follows. But
if life itself is good and pleasant (which
it seems to be, from the very fact that all
men desire it, and particularly those who
are good and supremely happy; for to such
men life is most desirable, and their existence
is the most supremely happy) and if he who
sees perceives that he sees, and he who hears,
that he hears, and he who walks, that he
walks, and in the case of all other activities
similarly there is something which perceives
that we are active, so that if we perceive,
we perceive that we perceive, and if we think,
that we think; and if to perceive that we
perceive or think is to perceive that we
exist (for existence was defined as perceiving
or thinking); and if perceiving that one
lives is in itself one of the things that
are pleasant (for life is by nature good,
and to perceive what is good present in oneself
is pleasant); and if life is desirable, and
particularly so for good men, because to
them existence is good and pleasant for they
are pleased at the consciousness of the presence
in them of what is in itself good); and if
as the virtuous man is to himself, he is
to his friend also (for his friend is another
self):-if all this be true, as his own being
is desirable for each man, so, or almost
so, is that of his friend. Now his being
was seen to be desirable because he perceived
his own goodness, and such perception is
pleasant in itself. He needs, therefore,
to be conscious of the existence of his friend
as well, and this will be realized in their
living together and sharing in discussion
and thought; for this is what living together
would seem to mean in the case of man, and
not, as in the case of cattle, feeding in
the same place.
If, then, being is in itself desirable for
the supremely happy man (since it is by its
nature good and pleasant), and that of his
friend is very much the same, a friend will
be one of the things that are desirable.
Now that which is desirable for him he must
have, or he will be deficient in this respect.
The man who is to be happy will therefore
need virtuous friends.
10
Should we, then, make as many friends as
possible, or-as in the case of hospitality
it is thought to be suitable advice, that
one should be 'neither a man of many guests
nor a man with none'-will that apply to friendship
as well; should a man neither be friendless
nor have an excessive number of friends?
To friends made with a view to utility this
saying would seem thoroughly applicable;
for to do services to many people in return
is a laborious task and life is not long
enough for its performance. Therefore friends
in excess of those who are sufficient for
our own life are superfluous, and hindrances
to the noble life; so that we have no need
of them. Of friends made with a view to pleasure,
also, few are enough, as a little seasoning
in food is enough.
But as regards good friends, should we have
as many as possible, or is there a limit
to the number of one's friends, as there
is to the size of a city? You cannot make
a city of ten men, and if there are a hundred
thousand it is a city no longer. But the
proper number is presumably not a single
number, but anything that falls between certain
fixed points. So for friends too there is
a fixed number perhaps the largest number
with whom one can live together (for that,
we found, thought to be very characteristic
of friendship); and that one cannot live
with many people and divide oneself up among
them is plain. Further, they too must be
friends of one another, if they are all to
spend their days together; and it is a hard
business for this condition to be fulfilled
with a large number. It is found difficult,
too, to rejoice and to grieve in an intimate
way with many people, for it may likely happen
that one has at once to be happy with one
friend and to mourn with another. Presumably,
then, it is well not to seek to have as many
friends as possible, but as many as are enough
for the purpose of living together; for it
would seem actually impossible to be a great
friend to many people. This is why one cannot
love several people; love is ideally a sort
of excess of friendship, and that can only
be felt towards one person; therefore great
friendship too can only be felt towards a
few people. This seems to be confirmed in
practice; for we do not find many people
who are friends in the comradely way of friendship,
and the famous friendships of this sort are
always between two people. Those who have
many friends and mix intimately with them
all are thought to be no one's friend, except
in the way proper to fellow-citizens, and
such people are also called obsequious. In
the way proper to fellow-citizens, indeed,
it is possible to be the friend of many and
yet not be obsequious but a genuinely good
man; but one cannot have with many people
the friendship based on virtue and on the
character of our friends themselves, and
we must be content if we find even a few
such.
11
Do we need friends more in good fortune or
in bad? They are sought after in both; for
while men in adversity need help, in prosperity
they need people to live with and to make
the objects of their beneficence; for they
wish to do well by others. Friendship, then,
is more necessary in bad fortune, and so
it is useful friends that one wants in this
case; but it is more noble in good fortune,
and so we also seek for good men as our friends,
since it is more desirable to confer benefits
on these and to live with these. For the
very presence of friends is pleasant both
in good fortune and also in bad, since grief
is lightened when friends sorrow with us.
Hence one might ask whether they share as
it were our burden, or-without that happening-their
presence by its pleasantness, and the thought
of their grieving with us, make our pain
less. Whether it is for these reasons or
for some other that our grief is lightened,
is a question that may be dismissed; at all
events what we have described appears to
take place.
But their presence seems to contain a mixture
of various factors. The very seeing of one's
friends is pleasant, especially if one is
in adversity, and becomes a safeguard against
grief (for a friend tends to comfort us both
by the sight of him and by his words, if
he is tactful, since he knows our character
and the things that please or pain us); but
to see him pained at our misfortunes is painful;
for every one shuns being a cause of pain
to his friends. For this reason people of
a manly nature guard against making their
friends grieve with them, and, unless he
be exceptionally insensible to pain, such
a man cannot stand the pain that ensues for
his friends, and in general does not admit
fellow-mourners because he is not himself
given to mourning; but women and womanly
men enjoy sympathisers in their grief, and
love them as friends and companions in sorrow.
But in all things one obviously ought to
imitate the better type of person.
On the other hand, the presence of friends
in our prosperity implies both a pleasant
passing of our time and the pleasant thought
of their pleasure at our own good fortune.
For this cause it would seem that we ought
to summon our friends readily to share our
good fortunes (for the beneficent character
is a noble one), but summon them to our bad
fortunes with hesitation; for we ought to
give them as little a share as possible in
our evils whence the saying 'enough is my
misfortune'. We should summon friends to
us most of all when they are likely by suffering
a few inconveniences to do us a great service.
Conversely, it is fitting to go unasked and
readily to the aid of those in adversity
(for it is characteristic of a friend to
render services, and especially to those
who are in need and have not demanded them;
such action is nobler and pleasanter for
both persons); but when our friends are prosperous
we should join readily in their activities
(for they need friends for these too), but
be tardy in coming forward to be the objects
of their kindness; for it is not noble to
be keen to receive benefits. Still, we must
no doubt avoid getting the reputation of
kill-joys by repulsing them; for that sometimes
happens.
The presence of friends, then, seems desirable
in all circumstances.
12
Does it not follow, then, that, as for lovers
the sight of the beloved is the thing they
love most, and they prefer this sense to
the others because on it love depends most
for its being and for its origin, so for
friends the most desirable thing is living
together? For friendship is a partnership,
and as a man is to himself, so is he to his
friend; now in his own case the consciousness
of his being is desirable, and so therefore
is the consciousness of his friend's being,
and the activity of this consciousness is
produced when they live together, so that
it is natural that they aim at this. And
whatever existence means for each class of
men, whatever it is for whose sake they value
life, in that they wish to occupy themselves
with their friends; and so some drink together,
others dice together, others join in athletic
exercises and hunting, or in the study of
philosophy, each class spending their days
together in whatever they love most in life;
for since they wish to live with their friends,
they do and share in those things which give
them the sense of living together. Thus the
friendship of bad men turns out an evil thing
(for because of their instability they unite
in bad pursuits, and besides they become
evil by becoming like each other), while
the friendship of good men is good, being
augmented by their companionship; and they
are thought to become better too by their
activities and by improving each other; for
from each other they take the mould of the
characteristics they approve-whence the saying
'noble deeds from noble men'.-So much, then,
for friendship; our next task must be to
discuss pleasure.
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