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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