Wisdom, the third of Plato's cardinal virtues, consists in the supremacy of reason over spirit and appetite; just as temperance and courage consisted in the subordination of appetite and spirit to reason. Wisdom, then, is much the same thing as temperance and courage, only in more positive and comprehensive form. Wisdom is the vision of the good, the true end of man, for the sake of which the lower elements must be subordinated. What, then, is the good, according to Plato? The good is the principle of order, proportion, and harmony that binds the many parts of an object into the effective unity of an organic whole. The good of a watch is that perfect working together of all its springs and wheels and hands, which makes it keep time. The good of a thing is the thing's proper and distinctive function; and the condition of its performing its function is the subordination of its parts to the interest of the whole.
The good of a horse is strength and speed; but this in turn involves the coördination of its parts in graceful, free movement. The good of a state is the coöperation of all its citizens, according to their several capacities, for the happiness and welfare of the whole community. Wisdom in the statesman is the power to see such an ideal relation of the citizens to each other, and the means by which it can be attained and conserved. The good of the individual man, likewise, is the harmonious working together of all the elements in him, so as to produce a satisfactory life; and wisdom is the vision of such a truly satisfactory life, and of the conditions of its attainment. Since man lives in a world full of natural objects, and of works of art; since he is surrounded by other men and is a member of a state; and since his welfare depends on his fulfilling his relations to these objects and persons, it follows that wisdom to see his own true good will involve a knowledge of these objects, persons, and institutions around him. Hence rather more than half the Republic is occupied with the problem of education; or the training of men in that wisdom which consists in the knowledge of the good.
IV
PLATO'S SCHEME OF EDUCATION
Education, therefore, in Plato's ideal Republic, was a lifelong affair, and from first to last practical. For the guardians, the men who were to be rulers or, as we should say, leaders of their fellows, he prescribed the following course: From early childhood until the age of seventeen,—that is, through our elementary and high school periods,—he would give chief attention to what he calls music; that is, to literature, music, and the plastic arts, with popular descriptive science, or, as we call it nowadays, nature study. This, with elementary mathematics and gymnastics as incidental, constituted the curriculum for the first ten or twelve years. The chief stress through all these years he lays on good literature,—good both in substance and in form; for children at this age are intensely imitative. Plato practically anticipated the latest results of child study, which tell us that the child builds up the whole substance of his conception of himself out of materials borrowed from others and incorporated in himself by imitative reproduction; and then in turn interprets and understands others only in so far as he can eject this borrowed material into other persons. Hence Plato says it is of supreme importance that the children shall learn to admire and love good literature. That teachers should be able to teach the children to read and write and cipher and draw he would take for granted. The prime qualification, however, would be the ability to so interpret the best literature as to make the children admire and imitate and incorporate the noble qualities this literature embodies. Into the literature thus inspiringly taught in the school, only that which praised noble deeds in noble language should be admitted. Plato's description of good literature for schools will bear repeating: "Any deeds of endurance which are acted or told by famous men, these the children ought to see and hear. If they imitate at all, they should imitate the temperate, holy, free, courageous, and the like; but they should not depict or be able to imitate any kind of illiberality or other baseness, lest from imitation they come to be what they imitate. Did you never observe how imitations, beginning in early youth, at last sink into the constitution and become a second nature of body, voice, and mind?" "Of the harmonies I know nothing, but I want to have one warlike, which will sound the word or note which a brave man utters in the hour of danger and stern resolve, or when his cause is failing and he is going to wounds or death or is overtaken by some other evil, and at every such crisis meets fortune with calmness and endurance; and another which may be used by him in times of peace and freedom of action, when there is no pressure of necessity—expressive of entreaty, or persuasion, or prayer to God, or instruction of man, or again of willingness to listen to persuasion or entreaty or advice; and which represents him when he has accomplished his aim, not carried away by success, but acting moderately and wisely, and acquiescing in the event. These two harmonies I ask you to leave: the strain of necessity and the strain of freedom, the strain of courage, and the strain of temperance. We would not have our guardians grow up amid images of moral deformity, as in some noxious pasture, and there browse and feed upon many a baneful herb and flower day by day, little by little, until they silently gather a festering mass of corruption in their own souls. Let our artists rather be those who are gifted to discern the true nature of beauty and grace; then will our youth dwell in a land of health, amid fair sights and sounds; and beauty, the effluence of fair works, will meet the sense like a breeze, and insensibly draw the soul, even in childhood, into harmony with the beauty of reason. Rhythm and harmony find their way into the secret places of the soul, on which they mightily fasten, bearing grace in their movements, and making the soul graceful of him who is rightly educated, or ungraceful if ill educated; and also because he who has received this true education of the inner being will most shrewdly perceive omissions or faults in art or nature, and with a true taste, while he praises and rejoices over and receives into his soul the good, and becomes noble and good, he will justly blame and hate the bad, now in the days of his youth, even before he is able to know the reason of the thing; and when reason comes, he will recognise and salute her as a friend with whom his education has made him long familiar."
Thus, according to Plato, the important thing for a youth to secure by the time he is seventeen is the admiration of noble deeds, and noble words, and noble character. The love of good literature is the backbone of this elementary education. Manual training and nature study, as a means to the appreciation of beautiful works of art and beautiful objects in nature, he would also approve. On the whole Plato is an advocate of those very reforms which are now being introduced into the elementary and secondary schools in the name of the New Education. What one loves is of more importance than what one knows; what one wants to do, and is interested in trying to do, is of more consequence at this stage than what one has done. Early education should be an introduction to the true, the beautiful, and the good in the form of great men, brave deeds, beautiful objects, and beneficent laws. The development of taste is more than the acquisition of information; the inspiration of literature, history, art, and descriptive science is far more valuable than drill beyond the essentials in grammar, geography, and arithmetic.
Plato's programme for the years from seventeen to twenty, three of our four college years, is even more startling and heretical; and quite in line with certain tendencies in our own day. He would set apart the three years from seventeen to twenty for gymnastic exercises, including in such exercises, however, military drill. Plato appreciated both the advantage and disadvantage of intense athletic exercises. "The period, whether of two or three years, which passes in this sort of training is useless for any other purpose,—for sleep and exercise are unpropitious to learning; and the trial is one of the most important tests to which they are subjected."
At the age of twenty he would select the most promising youths and give them a ten years' course in severe study of science. This systematic study corresponds to the graduate and professional period in modern education, only he extends it over ten years, where we confine it to three or four. Again at thirty there is another selection of those who are most steadfast in their learning and most faithful in their military and public duties, and these are given a five years' course in dialectic or philosophy. They are trained to see the relation of the special sciences to each other and how each department of truth is related to the whole. At the age of thirty-five they must be appointed to military and other offices. "In this way they will get their experience of life, and there will be an opportunity to try whether, when they are drawn all manner of ways by temptation, they will stand firm or stir at all." And when they have reached the age of fifty, after fifteen years of this laboratory work in actual public service, holding subordinate offices and learning to discriminate good and evil, not as we find them done up in packages and labelled in the study, but as they are interwoven in the complicated texture of real life, "those who still survive and have distinguished themselves in every deed and in all knowledge, come at last to their graduation; the time has now arrived at which they must raise the eye of the soul to the universal light which lightens all things and behold the absolute good; for that is the pattern according to which they are to order the state and the lives of individuals and the remainder of their own lives also, making philosophy their chief pursuit; but when their turn comes, also toiling at politics and ruling for the public good."
The wisdom which comes of this prolonged and elaborate education is the third of Plato's four cardinal virtues. In the state it is the ruling principle, and its agents are the philosophers. As Plato says in a famous passage: "Until then philosophers are kings, or the kings and princes of this world have the spirit and power of philosophy, and political greatness and wisdom meet in one, and those commoner natures who follow either to the exclusion of the other are compelled to stand aside, cities will never cease from ill,—no, nor the human race, as I believe,—and then only will this our state have a possibility of life and behold the light of day." Precisely so, no individual will attain his true estate until this philosophic principle, which sees the good, through training has been so developed that it can bring both appetite and spirit into subjection to it, as a charioteer controls his headstrong horses.
V
RIGHTEOUSNESS THE COMPREHENSIVE VIRTUE
We now have three of the cardinal virtues: temperance, the subjection of appetite to reason; fortitude, the control of the spirit by reason; and wisdom, won through education, the assertion of the dictates of reason over the clamour of both appetite and spirit. But where, amid all this, Plato asks, is righteousness? In reply he remarks, "that when we first began our inquiry, ages ago, there lay righteousness rolling at our feet, and we, fools that we were, failed to see her, like people who go about looking for what they have in their hands. Righteousness is the comprehensive aspect of the three virtues already considered in detail. It is the ultimate cause and condition of the existence of all of them. Righteousness in a state consists in each citizen doing the thing to which his nature is most perfectly adapted: in minding one's own business, in other words, with a view to the good of the whole. Righteousness in an individual, then, consists in having each part of one's nature devoted to its specific function: in having the appetites obey, in having the spirit steadfast in difficulty and danger, and in having the reason rule supreme. Thus righteousness, that subordination and coordination of all the parts of the soul in the service of the soul as a whole, includes each of the other three virtues and comprehends them all in the unity of the soul's organic life.