REPUBLIC OF PLATO. PERHAPS Some apology may be deemed requisite for thus reviving a treatise which modern writers on government have thrown aside as mere chimera and reverie, and which has experienced a neglect even greater than the other compositions of its distinguished author. We are far from affirming that the charge of impracticability is unfounded, which is, indeed, evident enough. But it should be recollected, that the treatise was addressed to a people of manners and circumstances so widely different from our own, that great allowances must be made when the incongruity of the scheme with modern habits appears very prominent and revolting. No inconsiderable portion, too, of what seems fanciful and visionary in the treatise, arises from the uncorrupt and undissembling sincerity of the author-from his complete recognition of the end proposed, as well as of the difficulties of attaining it, and his strict determination to leave none of these difficulties unconquered. With but one or two exceptions, he is the only political writer, either of ancient or modern times, whose thoughts have been conceived with entire singleness of aim-who has kept his eye steadily fixed on the greatest happiness of those for whom he laboured, stating fully the obstacles which impeded it, and devising all the means in his power for their removal. It will be seen that he himself does not attempt to disguise the incompetency of these means: whereas modern writers on the subject appear to be less extravagant in the schemes of government which they propose, simply because their real end is very different from his, and much easier of attainment. Their actual aim is usually to promote the convenience of the governing aristocracy, not the happiness of the community; and, when the two are at variance, they make no scruple of throwing aside the latter. To contrive a government for this purpose, requires but little deviation from established models, and little stretch of inventive power; and therefore the framer of it will, of course, never be exposed to the charge of innovation or chimera. With all these allowances, however, much exceptionable and visionary matter will be discovered in Plato's proposals. But they frequently, even when false, suggest instructive reflections; and the errors of so extraordinary a man well deserve to be unravelled, and traced to their source. The most valuable portion of the treatise is that which unfolds the moral effects of a vicious government-the mode in which it corrupts and debases, as well the reigning tone of philosophy, as the sentiments and action of private life. The remarks which he makes on the degeneracy, under such a system, of philosophy in general, and on the perfect inutility of the genuine philosopher, when such a character was accidentally formed, display a depth and penetration in sifting the influence of occult causes, which modern writers, with the exception of Helvetius, bave not ventured to pursue. Plato's Treatise "de Republicâ" is delivered in the form of a dialogue between Socrates, Glaucon, and Adimantus. The chief speaker is Socrates, who details the scheme, and is throughout the organ by which the sentiments of Plato are delivered. In the following sketch, therefore, Socrates and Plato are to be considered as one-the latter speaking by the mouth of the former. The treatise commences with an inquiry into the nature of justice. Considerable difference of opinion arising among the disputants, Socrates, in order to compose the dissention, strikes into a new path. For the purpose of ascertaining what justice is in an individual, he recommends a previous inquiry, "What is justice in a state?" This leads to the analysis of a state, which is traced up to its earliest formation. (Lib. 2. p. 60.)* It arises, as he justly says, from the mutual and varied wants of human beings. It is impossible to supply these wants otherwise than by combination and vicinity of residence. The primary and most indispensable alliance is that of the husbandman, the builder, the tailor, and the shoemaker. A division of labour, from its numerous advantages, obtains footing among them without delay. When these most necessary demands of nature are supplied, new ones arise, and fresh artificers spring up to supply them. Along with these distinct trades, carriers and shopkeepers arise, and a market is established: merchants and navigators undertake the task of procuring what must be sought beyond sea; and a medium of exchange is established, which facilitates the process of dividing and transmitting the goods produced. A number of hired labourers, who make a livelihood by selling their bodily strength, complete the city. In no long period, population would increase, and the arts of luxury would gain admission. The land will then become insufficient to maintain the number thus augmented, and a war with the neighbours will be the natural result. But by whom shall the war be carried on? Each member of the community is engaged in some separate occupation, and every kind of business is better performed when it constitutes the sole object of a man's time and attention. A military class, therefore, must be formed, for the purpose of attack and defence (p. 68.); a service of such essential importance, that the greatest care must be used in selecting and training up the performers of it. (p. 68.) The first requisite for this character of military protector is a courageous disposition. But passion is the principle of courage, and no animal is courageous without being voids. (p. 69.) And how can this ferocity be prevented from displaying itself against their fellow citizens, as well as against foreign enemies? To reconcile these two seemingly incompatible qualities-gentleness towards their own countrymen, with a savage and hostile demeanour towards all others-to render this warlike caste, like guardian dogs, mild at home towards their master and his family, and severe towards strangers, is a task of the highest difficulty, which Plato proposes to accomplish by an attentive and well-contrived education. (p. 71.) He begins by strictly watching the earliest impressions made upon The pages here quoted refer to the Leipsic Duod. Edit. 1818. † Επειδη τυγχανει ημων εκαςος 8κ αυταρκης, αλλά πολλων ενδέης. It may be remarked in passing, that this reference to the birth of communities to the wants and imperfections of man, was one of the heaviest accusations brought against Mandeville's fable of the Bees. See his letter in vindication of it, at the end of the third edition. His language, however, is in this, as well as in other places, ill chosen. - Οι μισθωτοί, οι πωλόντες την της ισχύος χρείαν, και την τιμην ταυτην μισθον καλόντες. p. 64. § Φυλακες. This is an important remark, which Helvetius and Mandeville have made. 3 T their minds by the fables related to them in their childhood. He would take unceasing pains to impress upon their minds sentiments and associations conformable to that character which was to be the ultimate result of the whole. (p. 72.) Many of the current fables, extracted from the poems of Homer and Hesiod, he reprobates very deservedly, as calculated to generate feelings both contemptible and odious. He particularly expresses his disapprobation of the deeds which these poets ascribed to the Gods. The acts of Saturn and Uranus-the imprisonment of Juno by her son, and the seizure and extrusion of Vulcan from heaven by Jupiter-the violation of the truce by Pandarus, at the instigation of Minerva-the journeys of the Gods in disguise through different cities-all these stories, and others which he extracts from the same writers, appear to Plato of a pernicious and demoralizing tendency. (p. 74-5.) God, being perfect, cannot change, except for the worse (p. 77.); nor can he be the cause of any evil: which, if it exist at all, must certainly emanate from some other He deprecates the practice of mothers frightening their children by telling them that the Gods went round at night, disguised as strangers of every description. (p. 78.) The representation which Homer gives of the Gods laughing unboundedly at the ungraceful motions of Vulcan, meets with his decided disapprobation, as tending to encourage an excessive disposition to mirth, which ought to be repressed.† (p 84.) All poetical passages which attract the sympathy and favour of the readers towards feelings of a weak or vicious nature, are unsparingly prohibited in the Republic. The more beautiful the verses, the greater will be their effect, and the more anxious is Plato to guard against their poison. (p. 82.) Lamentation for that which is irrevocably departed, seems to him inconsistent with soundness of mind; at any rate, he would contract it within the narrowest limits possible. Upon this principle, he proscribes all those portraitures of intense and excessive grief which poets delight to exhibit. (p. 84.) He condemns also all passages in which intemperance, or an attachment and accessibility to money, are eulogized or embodied in striking and exalted characters. (pp. 86-87.) He would not suffer sentiments of this nature to emanate from a God or a hero. But when firmness or temperance is favourably described and encouraged, Plato not only recommends, but extols such an employment of poetical powers. (p. 87.) He considers, also, those terrible pictures of a future state of suffering, which Homer and other poets have drawn, as most pernicious in their effects, by extinguishing courage, and creating an excessive apprehension of death. (pp. 81-82.) Falsehood, being generally injurious, but, on certain occasions, useful as a remedy, is to be prohibited in all the rest of the community, and allowed only in the ruling class, either towards the enemy, or in any other case which they may deem expedient. (p. 85.) It is a remedy only to be entrusted to a physician.‡ Having indicated the sentiments which it was desirable to encourage * Ουδαρα ό θεος, επειδή αγαθος, παντων αν είη αιτιος, ως οι πολλοί λεγεσιν αλλ' ολίγων μεν τοις ανθρωποις αιτιος, πολλων δε αναιτιος, πολυ γαρ ελαττω ταγαθα των κακων ημιν. p. 75. Here begins Lib. 3. † Ἰατροις δοτεον, ιδιωταις δε εκ απτεον. or extirpate in the minds of youth, Plato proceeds to examine the different styles or modes in which the poet might address their feelings. The sentiments might be simply recited by the poet himself in his own character, or under the assumed character of the person described. Tragedy and comedy belong wholly to the latter, or imitative class: the epic, partly to the narrative, partly to the imitative. Plato will allow this imitation and temporary adoption of the character described, only when rational and amiable qualities are represented. He will not sanction so exact and vivid a copy of mean or abominable qualities. Frequent attempts to imitate, he says, when commenced at an early period of life, pass at last into reality. (p. 94.) A man of worth would be ashamed to transfuse himself into the habits and actions of the vicious, or to appear under the disguise of a woman, a slave, or a drunkard. (p. 95.) If the actions or sentiments of such persons are to be represented, he will rather prefer to deliver a simple narrative of them in his own character. Besides, an imitation of good characters would require but little versatility of power, since there is little variety in the sentiments to be delivered. But of odious or unworthy subjects there is an infinite number, differing from each other, and each requiring a different accompaniment of music and gesture. (p. 96.) And this of itself proves a serious objection in Plato's eyes, since it would entail upon one person the necessity of performing a number of very different and even opposite processes, which the philosopher highly disapproves.* He pushes the division of labour to the utmost possible extent. He would banish, without mercy, one who could imitate every thing, as unfit for his state. (p. 97.) Instructions in music and rhythm, which seem to have been exceedingly general among the rich Athenian youth, next pass under Plato's review. "The song (he says, p. 98.,) contains three parts-the words, the harmony, and the accompanying measure." The words or sentiments are to be judged according to the principles before laid down, and the strain and measure will be determined by the same rule, since both are to be exclusively adapted to the purpose of enforcing these sentiments. Whatever species of music might tend to seduce or overpower that peculiar cast of thought which he is anxious to foster in his pupils, is rigorously prohibited. Some strains (such as the audiori, GUNTOVAUT) enervate the mind, by encouraging excess of grief and sensibility; others again are loose and luscious and altogether extinguish all sobriety of thought, (such are the Ionian and Lydian): both these sorts Plato forbids, and permits nothing besides the dorian and Phrygian moods. The former, warlike and inspiriting, cherishing in the mind of the hearer a steady and magnanimous resolution; the latter, gentle, pacific, and persuasive, introducing feelings of calmness and content. (pp. 98-99.) No more complicated style of music is to be permitted and even the flute is proscribed as too varied and artificial. (p. 100.) The lyre and harp in the city, and the Pan's pipe in the country, he deems sufficient His decisions on the subject of rhythm are similar. He allows only * P. 97. Ουκ εσι διπλες ανηρ παρ' ημιν, είδε πολλαπλές επειδη εκαςος εν πραττει. † Το μέλος εκ τριων συγκείμενον, λογό τε, και αρμονίας, και ρυθμό. Η Ου πολυχορδίας εδε παναρμόνια δεήσει. simple combinations of feet, calculated to assist and enforce the subject of the song (p. 101.); and he lays great stress on the strict preservation of these measures, as tending to produce ideas of decency and symmetry in the mind, which he regards as intimately connected with inward goodness of heart.* So fully is he persuaded of the necessity of nourishing the youthful eye in the contemplation of symmetry and proportion, that he enjoins artificers of all denominations to observe them rigidly, and will not suffer even the commonest utensils to be prepared in ill-favoured shapes. (p. 102.) This connexion between virtue and proportion is certainly somewhat fanciful, but the observation in which it terminates is very true: that the perfection of education con\sists in enabling the pupil to detect and follow the principles of virtue in the least things, as well as in the greatest. (p. 104.) He next proceeds to discuss the subject of gymnastics, or the bodily training of the ruling class. He prescribes to them a light and plain diet; not excessive, like that of an athlete, whose temperament was usually sluggish and somnolent from overabundance of food. Moderation in wine, and in other appetites, is also enjoined. (pp. 106-107.) Under such training, they would stand little in need of a physician, except in case of accidental wound or disease: and if the constitution of the pupils was so weak as not to be able to endure this training, but to need the aid of medicine continually to keep them alive, Plato denounces this as a perversion of the talents of the physician. That life is not, in his opinion, worthy of preservation, which is too sickly to be employed in the performance of any social function. Their children, too, would be sickly. (pp. 108-111.) A poor artificer, who has nothing to rely upon for subsistence except his daily labour, cannot afford to relax in the performance of this duty, whether from illness or any other cause. "We do not perceive," he says, "the application of the same principle in the case of the wealthy and prosperous" (p. 109.); but they too have a duty which it is incumbent on them to discharge towards the community, and from which nothing beyond a temporary relief and vacation can be allowed to them, in case of an accidental wound or fever. He ascribes this artificial extension of medical science, which he has just been condemning, to Herodicus, the brother of Gorgias, who was a raiderpißns (a trainer of youth), and a man of very sickly constitution himself. By the nicest attention to his health, Herodicus managed to prolong his existence, through continual sickness, into old age.t Plato draws a parallel between the task of the physician and that of the judge. Both are remedial, and presuppose the existence of disorders, which might, by previous caution, be prevented from ever arising; a good moral education would render the members of the community friendly towards each other, and would almost silence the demand for judicature; a good system of bodily training would so discipline and invigorate their constitutions, that they would rarely stand in need of medicine. A frequent appeal to judicature, or a very refined system of medicine, is a proof of an ill-regulated educatíon, and of intemperance and luxury in the previous course of life : * Evnesia-in sensu bono. * Δυσθανατων υπο σοφίας, εις γήρας αφίκετο. Ρ. 109, |