Nicomachean Ethics III.6/7: Courage I

Courage is the model virtue, not because Aristotle thinks it is the most important but because it is a particularly clear example. He has a lot to say about it: chapters 6-9 are all on the subject. 6 and 7 are fairly short, and we've already talked about this virtue in sketch so you probably have a feel for it already. I'll run these together. 

Chapter seven contains my favorite line in the whole Nicomachean Ethics.

6

That [courage] is a mean with regard to feelings of fear and confidence has already been made evident; and plainly the things we fear are terrible things, and these are, to speak without qualification, evils; for which reason people even define fear as expectation of evil. Now we fear all evils, e.g. disgrace, poverty, disease, friendlessness, death, but the brave man is not thought to be concerned with all; for to fear some things is even right and noble, and it is base not to fear them- e.g. disgrace; he who fears this is good and modest, and he who does not is shameless. He is, however, by some people called brave, by a transference of the word to a new meaning; for he has in him something which is like the brave man, since the brave man also is a fearless person. 

Emphasis added. "Death before dishonor" was a concept known of Old.

Poverty and disease we perhaps ought not to fear, nor in general the things that do not proceed from vice and are not due to a man himself. But not even the man who is fearless of these is brave. Yet we apply the word to him also in virtue of a similarity; for some who in the dangers of war are cowards are liberal and are confident in face of the loss of money. Nor is a man a coward if he fears insult to his wife and children or envy or anything of the kind; nor brave if he is confident when he is about to be flogged. With what sort of terrible things, then, is the brave man concerned? Surely with the greatest; for no one is more likely than he to stand his ground against what is awe-inspiring. Now death is the most terrible of all things; for it is the end, and nothing is thought to be any longer either good or bad for the dead. But the brave man would not seem to be concerned even with death in all circumstances, e.g. at sea or in disease. In what circumstances, then? Surely in the noblest. Now such deaths are those in battle; for these take place in the greatest and noblest danger. And these are correspondingly honoured in city-states and at the courts of monarchs. Properly, then, he will be called brave who is fearless in face of a noble death, and of all emergencies that involve death; and the emergencies of war are in the highest degree of this kind. Yet at sea also, and in disease, the brave man is fearless, but not in the same way as the seaman; for he has given up hope of safety, and is disliking the thought of death in this shape, while they are hopeful because of their experience. At the same time, we show courage in situations where there is the opportunity of showing prowess or where death is noble; but in these forms of death neither of these conditions is fulfilled.

Emphasis added. Aristotle is restricting courage in its purest form to the Homeric courage that Greek heroes demonstrated in their wars (and not the Trojans, as we shall see). Other forms of bravery in the face of danger are analogs to this true courage; and even the courage of citizen-soldiers, again as we shall see, is not the very purest form. The purest is that of the nobles, like the Greek heroes of the Iliad. You can imagine how pleasing this model was to young Alexander of Macedon, later 'the Great,' as he studied at Aristotle's feet in his youth. (Really his whole life was youth; he was dead by 32.)

Now you might think that a soldier at war would be courageous in exactly the same way as a seaman in a storm, i.e., at least partly from confidence borne of experience. The brave, noble man should be bold in the face of a noble death even if it is his first battle: but how then can it be habituated? It is the proper upbringing, including the telling of heroic stories to the youth by their elders; practice at analogous things like horseback riding and combat sports; and martial training. This prepares the youth to be bold in the opportunity to earn a noble death, and not to care if it comes to them because it is the path of honor. The proof of that is how much those model heroes of the Iliad were, in fact, still honored across the Greek civilization of the day.

7

What is terrible is not the same for all men; but we say there are things terrible even beyond human strength. These, then, are terrible to every one- at least to every sensible man; but the terrible things that are not beyond human strength differ in magnitude and degree, and so too do the things that inspire confidence. Now the brave man is as dauntless as man may be. Therefore, while he will fear even the things that are not beyond human strength, he will face them as he ought and as the rule directs, for honour's sake; for this is the end of virtue. But it is possible to fear these more, or less, and again to fear things that are not terrible as if they were. Of the faults that are committed one consists in fearing what one should not, another in fearing as we should not, another in fearing when we should not, and so on; and so too with respect to the things that inspire confidence. The man, then, who faces and who fears the right things and from the right motive, in the right way and from the right time, and who feels confidence under the corresponding conditions, is brave; for the brave man feels and acts according to the merits of the case and in whatever way the rule directs. Now the end of every activity is conformity to the corresponding state of character. This is true, therefore, of the brave man as well as of others. But courage is noble. Therefore the end also is noble; for each thing is defined by its end. Therefore it is for a noble end that the brave man endures and acts as courage directs.

Emphasis added. Honor wasn't 'the end of virtue' in Book I: honors, at least, those awards of respect that were bestowed upon the many, were considered as a candidate for the end but determined to be unsuitable because they were not under our own control. To live for honor's sake is different from 'to receive honors,' though: it is an internal determination of our heart's, rather than a thing anyone else can bestow or take away. It is going to prove to be at the root of the capstone virtue of magnanimity. 

In any case, this is the standard for any virtue: 'to do the right thing, from the right motive, in the right way and from the right time' is what is going to universalize. Courage is particular in that it pertains to fear in battle, or analogously other sorts of fear. Yet there is an underlying unity of the virtues in having that rational quality of 'getting it right' vis a vis a particular challenge. This is why the trait is an 'excellence,' ἀρετή (aretḗ), the actual word that is being translated into English as 'virtue.' 

Socrates very frequently asked this question in Plato's dialogues, because he was bothered by the unity of the virtues. He wanted to determine if the unity was the really important thing, or if there was in fact a host of different virtues at work. What makes 'getting it right' in battle all that different from 'getting it right' with regard to overeating (our next virtue being temperance)? Isn't the universal thing the real virtue, and thus there is one virtue instead of many? 

Aristotle settles on the pragmatic acceptance that there are many even though they have an underlying quality. We can see that the brave man is the right man for battle, but he may not always be very temperate at table. Thus, it seems that the underlying unity is conceptual more than actual; frequently, we do find that some virtues are realized in a man, and others not. Aristotle's ethics is pragmatic, and this is one of the concessions to that pragmatism. 

Of those who go to excess he who exceeds in fearlessness has no name (we have said previously that many states of character have no names), but he would be a sort of madman or insensible person if he feared nothing, neither earthquakes nor the waves, as they say the Celts do not; while the man who exceeds in confidence about what really is terrible is rash. The rash man, however, is also thought to be boastful and only a pretender to courage; at all events, as the brave man is with regard to what is terrible, so the rash man wishes to appear; and so he imitates him in situations where he can. Hence also most of them are a mixture of rashness and cowardice; for, while in these situations they display confidence, they do not hold their ground against what is really terrible. The man who exceeds in fear is a coward; for he fears both what he ought not and as he ought not, and all the similar characterizations attach to him. He is lacking also in confidence; but he is more conspicuous for his excess of fear in painful situations. The coward, then, is a despairing sort of person; for he fears everything. The brave man, on the other hand, has the opposite disposition; for confidence is the mark of a hopeful disposition. The coward, the rash man, and the brave man, then, are concerned with the same objects but are differently disposed towards them; for the first two exceed and fall short, while the third holds the middle, which is the right, position; and rash men are precipitate, and wish for dangers beforehand but draw back when they are in them, while brave men are keen in the moment of action, but quiet beforehand.

Emphasis added. I have written about the nameless vice of the Celts before. I suppose it is surely my own.  

As we have said, then, courage is a mean with respect to things that inspire confidence or fear, in the circumstances that have been stated; and it chooses or endures things because it is noble to do so, or because it is base not to do so. But to die to escape from poverty or love or anything painful is not the mark of a brave man, but rather of a coward; for it is softness to fly from what is troublesome, and such a man endures death not because it is noble but to fly from evil.

It is not noble, and therefore all the more tragic, to die of a broken heart.