Aristotle finds also in courage an excellent opportunity to apply his celebrated theory of the golden mean. Courage is for him a medium between temerity and cowardice. But it is not the too much or too little in danger which determines what we ought to call courage. There are cases where one may be obliged to brave the greatest possible danger without being for that rash; other cases where, on the contrary, one has the right to avoid the least possible peril without being for that a coward. The true principle is that one should brave necessary perils, be they ever so great; and likewise avoid useless perils, be they ever so slight. Yet, the question of degree should not be wholly overlooked. There are some perils which, without being necessary, it is useful to brave (were it but to train one’s self for greater ones). Such are, for example, the dangers connected with bodily exercises. Peril and utility must, of course, be compared with each other; for example, he who from considerations of utility would wish to avoid all kinds of perils, will be wanting in courage; and he who, on the contrary, would lightly brave an extreme peril, will naturally deserve to be called rash. Thus must we first consider the nature of the peril, and, secondly, the degree.

159. Civic courage.—Although military courage is the most brilliant and popular form of courage, it may be asked whether there is not a higher and nobler form still, namely, civic courage.

Cicero, who, to say the truth, was not sufficiently disinterested in the matter, persists in showing that civic virtues are equal to military virtues, and demand an equal amount of courage and energy.[124] A firm and high-souled man, he says, has no trouble in difficult circumstances, to preserve his presence of mind and the free use of his reason, to provide in advance against events, and to be always ready for action when necessary.

This is a sort of courage more difficult perhaps than the one required in a hand-to-hand struggle with the enemy. Civic life, besides, has itself trials which often imperil one’s existence.

Antiquity has left us innumerable and admirable examples of civic courage against tyranny. Helvidius Priscus was thought to look with disapproval upon Vespasian’s administration. The latter sent him word to keep away from the Senate: “It is in thy power,” replied Helvidius, “to forbid my belonging to the Senate, but as long as I belong to it, I shall attend it.”—“Go, then,” said the emperor, “but hold thy tongue.”—“If thou ask me no questions I will make thee no answers.”—“But I must ask thee questions.”—“And I must answer thee what I think just.”—“If thou dost, I shall have thee put to death.”—“When have I said to thee that I was immortal?” But nothing ever surpassed the intrepidity of Socrates, either before the Thirty Tyrants who wished to interdict him free speech,[125] or before the people’s tribunals which condemned him to death:

Plato in his Apology makes him say: “If you were to tell me now, ‘Socrates, we will not listen to Anytus: we send thee back absolved on condition that thou ceasest philosophizing and givest up thy accustomed researches,’ I should answer you without hesitation, ‘O Athenians, I honor and love you, but I shall obey God before I obey you.’”

Then, after having been condemned to death, he closes with these admirable words:

“I bear my accusers, and those who have condemned me, no resentment, although they did not seek my good, but rather to injure me. But I shall ask of them one favor: I beg you, when my children shall be grown up, to persecute them as I have myself persecuted you, if you see that they prefer riches to virtue.... If you grant us this favor, I and my children shall have but to praise your justice. But it is time we go each our way: I to die, you to live. Which of us has the better part, you or I? This is known to none but God.”

160. Patience.—One of the most difficult forms of courage is that which consists not only in braving or repelling a threatening danger (which presupposes some effort and activity), but in bearing without anger, without any sign of vain revolt, the ills and pains of life: this is patience. There is a kind of patience which is but a part of our duty in regard to others: one must learn to bear a great deal from others, they having often a great deal to bear from us. But we speak here of that inner patience which is our strength in grief; the patience of the invalid in his daily sufferings; that of the poor man in his poverty; the patience, in short, which all must exercise amidst the innumerable and inevitable accidents of life. It is, above all, that sort of virtue which the Stoics meant when they said with Epictetus: “You should not wish things to happen as you want them; but you should wish them as they do happen.” A maxim which Descartes translated substantially, saying: “My maxim is rather to try to overcome myself than fortune, and rather to change my own wishes than to change the order of the world.” Which he explained by saying:

“If we regard the goods which lie outside of us as unattainable as those we are deprived of from our birth, we shall no more grieve at not possessing them, than we should in not possessing the empires of China or Mexico; and, making, as it is said, a virtue of necessity, we shall not any more desire to be healthy when ill, or to be free when in prison, than we desire now to have bodies of as incorruptible a stuff as diamonds, or to have wings to fly with like birds.”[126]