Abstract

In transforming the statesman's art into the practical sciences, which he modeled on the science of medicine, Aristotle changed the preferred candidates for office from young geometers to seasoned deliberators, and further, opened up the possibility of teaching the virtue needed for political action--namely, prudence. Most of the students in the Lyceum would have had a substantial ethical education by the time they sat in on Aristotle's lectures, but few would have had direct political experience. Thus, the problem with arguing for experience as a prerequisite for political study is that it appears to eliminates the reason for the lectures. This is not the meaning Aristotle has in mind when he speaks of experience. ;The experience needed for prudence has as little to do with the sheer accumulation of years as it does with the sheer volume of laws in compendiums--neither accounts for the qualitative habits of judgement that Aristotle requires of the prudent person or legislator. Prudence does not come from incantation or illumination but rather from time and practice. And yet, unlike those skeptics who do not believe virtue can be taught, this very reliance on habit makes genuine learning possible. "Those who have not been maimed for virtue, through hard work and practice may achieve it." These words are the words of an educator, one who prescribes laws for the mind, and, like the doctor accused of teaching instead of healing, Aristotle could claim to be both teacher and healer for the youth of Athens. ;By teaching the different sciences of statesmanship--rhetoric , ethics , and politics --Aristotle taught prudence in its different aspects. It is this pedagogical impulse that animates his practical works and that gives them their distinctive cast. That cast is the worldview of the good physician