Plato
MENO
translated
by Benjamin Jowett
Persons Of The
Dialogue :
MENO ; SOCRATES ; A SLAVE OF MENO ;
ANYTUS.
Meno. Can you tell me,
Socrates, whether virtue is acquired by teaching or by practice ; or if
neither by teaching nor practice, then whether it comes to man by nature, or in
what other way ?
Socrates. O Meno, there was
a time when the Thessalians were famous among the other Hellenes only for their
riches and their riding ; but now, if I am not mistaken, they are equally
famous for their wisdom, especially at Larisa, which is the native city of your
friend Aristippus. And this is Gorgias’ doing ; for when he came there, the
flower of the Aleuadae, among them your admirer Aristippus, and the other chiefs
of the Thessalians, fell in love with his wisdom. And he has taught you the
habit of answering questions in a grand and bold style, which becomes those who
know, and is the style in which he himself answers all comers ; and any
Hellene who likes may ask him anything. How different is our lot ! my dear
Meno. Here at Athens there is a dearth of the commodity, and all wisdom seems to
have emigrated from us to you. I am certain that if you were to ask any Athenian
whether virtue was natural or acquired, he would laugh in your face, and
say : “Stranger, you have far too good an opinion of me, if you think that
I can answer your question. For I literally do not know what virtue is, and much
less whether it is acquired by teaching or not.” And I myself, Meno, living as I
do in this region of poverty, am as poor as the rest of the world ; and I
confess with shame that I know literally nothing about virtue ; and when I
do not know the “quid” of anything how can I know the “quale” ? How, if I
knew nothing at all of Meno, could I tell if he was fair, or the opposite of
fair ; rich and noble, or the reverse of rich and noble ? Do you think
that I could ?
Men. No, Indeed. But
are you in earnest, Socrates, in saying that you do not know what virtue
is ? And am I to carry back this report of you to
Thessaly ?
Soc. Not only that, my
dear boy, but you may say further that I have never known of any one else who
did, in my judgment.
Men. Then you have
never met Gorgias when he was at Athens ?
Soc. Yes, I
have.
Men. And did you not
think that he knew ?
Soc. I have not a good
memory, Meno, and therefore I cannot now tell what I thought of him at the time.
And I dare say that he did know, and that you know what he said : please,
therefore, to remind me of what he said ; or, if you would rather, tell me
your own view ; for I suspect that you and he think much
alike.
Men. Very
true.
Soc. Then as he is not
here, never mind him, and do you tell me : By the gods, Meno, be generous,
and tell me what you say that virtue is ; for I shall be truly delighted to
find that I have been mistaken, and that you and Gorgias do really have this
knowledge ; although I have been just saying that I have never found
anybody who had.
Men. There will be no
difficulty, Socrates, in answering your question. Let us take first the virtue
of a man — he should know how to administer the state, and in the administration
of it to benefit his friends and harm his enemies ; and he must also be
careful not to suffer harm himself. A woman’s virtue, if you wish to know about
that, may also be easily described : her duty is to order her house, and
keep what is indoors, and obey her husband. Every age, every condition of life,
young or old, male or female, bond or free, has a different virtue : there
are virtues numberless, and no lack of definitions of them ; for virtue is
relative to the actions and ages of each of us in all that we do. And the same
may be said of vice, Socrates.
Soc. How fortunate I
am, Meno ! When I ask you for one virtue, you present me with a swarm of
them, which are in your keeping. Suppose that I carry on the figure of the
swarm, and ask of you, What is the nature of the bee ? and you answer that
there are many kinds of bees, and I reply : But do bees differ as bees,
because there are many and different kinds of them ; or are they not rather
to be distinguished by some other quality, as for example beauty, size, or
shape ? How would you answer me ?
Men. I should answer
that bees do not differ from one another, as bees.
Soc. And if I went on
to say : That is what I desire to know, Meno ; tell me what is the
quality in which they do not differ, but are all alike ; — would you be
able to answer ?
Men. I
should.
Soc. And so of the
virtues, however many and different they may be, they have all a common nature
which makes them virtues ; and on this he who would answer the question,
“What is virtue ?” would do well to have his eye fixed : Do you
understand ?
Men. I am beginning to
understand ; but I do not as yet take hold of the question as I could
wish.
Soc. When you say,
Meno, that there is one virtue of a man, another of a woman, another of a child,
and so on, does this apply only to virtue, or would you say the same of health,
and size, and strength ? Or is the nature of health always the same,
whether in man or woman ?
Men. I should say that
health is the same, both in man and woman.
Soc. And is not this
true of size and strength ? If a woman is strong, she will be strong by
reason of the same form and of the same strength subsisting in her which there
is in the man. I mean to say that strength, as strength, whether of man or
woman, is the same. Is there any difference ?
Men. I think
not.
Soc. And will not
virtue, as virtue, be the same, whether in a child or in a grown-up person, in a
woman or in a man ?
Men. I cannot help
feeling, Socrates, that this case is different from the
others.
Soc. But why ?
Were you not saying that the virtue of a man was to order a state, and the
virtue of a woman was to order a house ?
Men. I did say
so.
Soc. And can either
house or state or anything be well ordered without temperance and without
justice ?
Men. Certainly
not.
Soc. Then they who
order a state or a house temperately or justly order them with temperance and
justice ?
Men.
Certainly.
Soc. Then both men and
women, if they are to be good men and women, must have the same virtues of
temperance and justice ?
Men.
True.
Soc. And can either a
young man or an elder one be good, if they are intemperate and
unjust ?
Men. They
cannot.
Soc. They must be
temperate and just ?
Men.
Yes.
Soc. Then all men are
good in the same way, and by participation in the same
virtues ?
Men. Such is the
inference.
Soc. And they surely
would not have been good in the same way, unless their virtue had been the
same ?
Men. They would
not.
Soc. Then now that the
sameness of all virtue has been proven, try and remember what you and Gorgias
say that virtue is.
Men. Will you have one
definition of them all ?
Soc. That is what I am
seeking.
Men. If you want to
have one definition of them all, I know not what to say, but that virtue is the
power of governing mankind.
Soc. And does this
definition of virtue include all virtue ? Is virtue the same in a child and
in a slave, Meno ? Can the child govern his father, or the slave his
master ; and would he who governed be any longer a
slave ?
Men. I think not,
Socrates.
Soc. No, indeed ;
there would be small reason in that. Yet once more, fair friend ; according
to you, virtue is “the power of governing” ; but do you not add “justly and
not unjustly” ?
Men. Yes,
Socrates ; I agree there ; for justice is
virtue.
Soc. Would you say
“virtue,” Meno, or “a virtue” ?
Men. What do you
mean ?
Soc. I mean as I might
say about anything ; that a round, for example, is “a figure” and not
simply “figure,” and I should adopt this mode of speaking, because there are
other figures.
Men. Quite right ;
and that is just what I am saying about virtue — that there are other virtues as
well as justice.
Soc. What are
they ? tell me the names of them, as I would tell you the names of the
other figures if you asked me.
Men. Courage and
temperance and wisdom and magnanimity are virtues ; and there are many
others.
Soc. Yes, Meno ;
and again we are in the same case : in searching after one virtue we have
found many, though not in the same way as before ; but we have been unable
to find the common virtue which runs through them all.
Men. Why, Socrates,
even now I am not able to follow you in the attempt to get at one common notion
of virtue as of other things.
Soc. No wonder ;
but I will try to get nearer if I can, for you know that all things have a
common notion. Suppose now that some one asked you the question which I asked
before : Meno, he would say, what is figure ? And if you answered
“roundness,” he would reply to you, in my way of speaking, by asking whether you
would say that roundness is “figure” or “a figure” ; and you would answer
“a figure.”
Men.
Certainly.
Soc. And for this
reason — that there are other figures ?
Men.
Yes.
Soc. And if he
proceeded to ask, What other figures are there ? you would have told
him.
Men. I
should.
Soc. And if he
similarly asked what colour is, and you answered whiteness, and the questioner
rejoined, Would you say that whiteness is colour or a colour ? you would
reply, A colour, because there are other colours as well.
Men. I
should.
Soc. And if he had
said, Tell me what they are ? — you would have told him of other colours
which are colours just as much as whiteness.
Men.
Yes.
Soc. And suppose that
he were to pursue the matter in my way, he would say : Ever and anon we are
landed in particulars, but this is not what I want ; tell me then, since
you call them by a common name, and say that they are all figures, even when
opposed to one another, what is that common nature which you designate as figure
— which contains straight as well as round, and is no more one than the other —
that would be your mode of speaking ?
Men.
Yes.
Soc. And in speaking
thus, you do not mean to say that the round is round any more than straight, or
the straight any more straight than round ?
Men. Certainly
not.
Soc. You only assert
that the round figure is not more a figure than the straight, or the straight
than the round ?
Men. Very
true.
Soc. To what then do we
give the name of figure ? Try and answer. Suppose that when a person asked
you this question either about figure or colour, you were to reply, Man, I do
not understand what you want, or know what you are saying ; he would look
rather astonished and say : Do you not understand that I am looking for the
“simile in multis” ? And then he might put the question in another
form : Mono, he might say, what is that “simile in multis” which you call
figure, and which includes not only round and straight figures, but all ?
Could you not answer that question, Meno ? I wish that you would try ;
the attempt will be good practice with a view to the answer about
virtue.
Men. I would rather
that you should answer, Socrates.
Soc. Shall I indulge
you ?
Men. By all
means.
Soc. And then you will
tell me about virtue ?
Men. I
will.
Soc. Then I must do my
best, for there is a prize to be won.
Men.
Certainly.
Soc. Well, I will try
and explain to you what figure is. What do you say to this answer ? —
Figure is the only thing which always follows colour. Will you be satisfied with
it, as I am sure that I should be, if you would let me have a similar definition
of virtue ?
Men. But, Socrates, it
is such a simple answer.
Soc. Why
simple ?
Men. Because, according
to you, figure is that which always follows colour.
Soc.
Granted.
Men. But if a person
were to say that he does not know what colour is, any more than what figure is —
what sort of answer would you have given him ?
Soc. I should have told
him the truth. And if he were a philosopher of the eristic and antagonistic
sort, I should say to him : You have my answer, and if I am wrong, your
business is to take up the argument and refute me. But if we were friends, and
were talking as you and I are now, I should reply in a milder strain and more in
the dialectician’s vein ; that is to say, I should not only speak the
truth, but I should make use of premisses which the person interrogated would be
willing to admit. And this is the way in which I shall endeavour to approach
you. You will acknowledge, will you not, that there is such a thing as an end,
or termination, or extremity ? — all which words use in the same sense,
although I am aware that Prodicus might draw distinctions about them : but
still you, I am sure, would speak of a thing as ended or terminated — that is
all which I am saying — not anything very difficult.
Men. Yes, I
should ; and I believe that I understand your
meaning.
Soc. And you would
speak of a surface and also of a solid, as for example in
geometry.
Men.
Yes.
Soc. Well then, you are
now in a condition to understand my definition of figure. I define figure to be
that in which the solid ends ; or, more concisely, the limit of
solid.
Men. And now, Socrates,
what is colour ?
Soc. You are
outrageous, Meno, in thus plaguing a poor old man to give you an answer, when
you will not take the trouble of remembering what is Gorgias’ definition of
virtue.
Men. When you have told
me what I ask, I will tell you, Socrates.
Soc. A man who was
blindfolded has only to hear you talking, and he would know that you are a fair
creature and have still many lovers.
Men. Why do you think
so ?
Soc. Why, because you
always speak in imperatives : like all beauties when they are in their
prime, you are tyrannical ; and also, as I suspect, you have found out that
I have weakness for the fair, and therefore to humour you I must
answer.
Men. Please
do.
Soc. Would you like me
to answer you after the manner of Gorgias, which is familiar to
you ?
Men. I should like
nothing better.
Soc. Do not he and you
and Empedocles say that there are certain effluences of
existence ?
Men.
Certainly.
Soc. And passages into
which and through which the effluences pass ?
Men.
Exactly.
Soc. And some of the
effluences fit into the passages, and some of them are too small or too
large ?
Men.
True.
Soc. And there is such
a thing as sight ?
Men.
Yes.
Soc. And now, as Pindar
says, “read my meaning” colour is an effluence of form, commensurate with sight,
and palpable to sense.
Men. That, Socrates,
appears to me to be an admirable answer.
Soc. Why, yes, because
it happens to be one which you have been in the habit of hearing : and your
wit will have discovered, I suspect, that you may explain in the same way the
nature of sound and smell, and of many other similar
phenomena.
Men. Quite
true.
Soc. The answer, Meno,
was in the orthodox solemn vein, and therefore was more acceptable to you than
the other answer about figure.
Men.
Yes.
Soc. And yet, O son of
Alexidemus, I cannot help thinking that the other was the better ; and I am
sure that you would be of the same opinion, if you would only stay and be
initiated, and were not compelled, as you said yesterday, to go away before the
mysteries.
Men. But I will stay,
Socrates, if you will give me many such answers.
Soc. Well then, for my
own sake as well as for yours, I will do my very best ; but I am afraid
that I shall not be able to give you very many as good : and now, in your
turn, you are to fulfil your promise, and tell me what virtue is in the
universal ; and do not make a singular into a plural, as the facetious say
of those who break a thing, but deliver virtue to me whole and sound, and not
broken into a number of pieces : I have given you the
pattern.
Men. Well then,
Socrates, virtue, as I take it, is when he, who desires the honourable, is able
to provide it for himself ; so the poet says, and I say too — Virtue is the
desire of things honourable and the power of attaining
them.
Soc. And does he who
desires the honourable also desire the good ?
Men.
Certainly.
Soc. Then are there
some who desire the evil and others who desire the good ? Do not all men,
my dear sir, desire good ?
Men. I think
not.
Soc. There are some who
desire evil ?
Men.
Yes.
Soc. Do you mean that
they think the evils which they desire, to be good ; or do they know that
they are evil and yet desire them ?
Men. Both, I
think.
Soc. And do you really
imagine, Meno, that a man knows evils to be evils and desires them
notwithstanding ?
Men. Certainly I
do.
Soc. And desire is of
possession ?
Men. Yes, of
possession.
Soc. And does he think
that the evils will do good to him who possesses them, or does he know that they
will do him harm ?
Men. There are some who
think that the evils will do them good, and others who know that they will do
them harm.
Soc. And, in your
opinion, do those who think that they will do them good know that they are
evils ?
Men. Certainly
not.
Soc. Is it not obvious
that those who are ignorant of their nature do not desire them ; but they
desire what they suppose to be goods although they are really evils ; and
if they are mistaken and suppose the evils to be good they really desire
goods ?
Men. Yes, in that
case.
Soc. Well, and do those
who, as you say, desire evils, and think that evils are hurtful to the possessor
of them, know that they will be hurt by them ?
Men. They must know
it.
Soc. And must they not
suppose that those who are hurt are miserable in proportion to the hurt which is
inflicted upon them ?
Men. How can it be
otherwise ?
Soc. But are not the
miserable ill-fated ?
Men. Yes,
indeed.
Soc. And does any one
desire to be miserable and ill-fated ?
Men. I should say not,
Socrates.
Soc. But if there is no
one who desires to be miserable, there is no one, Meno, who desires evil ;
for what is misery but the desire and possession of
evil ?
Men. That appears to be
the truth, Socrates, and I admit that nobody desires evil.
Soc. And yet, were you
not saying just now that virtue is the desire and power of attaining
good ?
Men. Yes, I did say
so.
Soc. But if this be
affirmed, then the desire of good is common to all, and one man is no better
than another in that respect ?
Men.
True.
Soc. And if one man is
not better than another in desiring good, he must be better in the power of
attaining it ?
Men.
Exactly.
Soc. Then, according to
your definition, virtue would appear to be the power of attaining
good ?
Men. I entirely
approve, Socrates, of the manner in which you now view this
matter.
Soc. Then let us see
whether what you say is true from another point of view ; for very likely
you may be right : — You affirm virtue to be the power of attaining
goods ?
Men.
Yes.
Soc. And the goods
which mean are such as health and wealth and the possession of gold and silver,
and having office and honour in the state — those are what you would call
goods ?
Men. Yes, I should
include all those.
Soc. Then, according to
Meno, who is the hereditary friend of the great king, virtue is the power of
getting silver and gold ; and would you add that they must be gained
piously, justly, or do you deem this to be of no consequence ? And is any
mode of acquisition, even if unjust and dishonest, equally to be deemed
virtue ?
Men. Not virtue,
Socrates, but vice.
Soc. Then justice or
temperance or holiness, or some other part of virtue, as would appear, must
accompany the acquisition, and without them the mere acquisition of good will
not be virtue.
Men. Why, how can there
be virtue without these ?
Soc. And the
non-acquisition of gold and silver in a dishonest manner for oneself or another,
or in other words the want of them, may be equally
virtue ?
Men.
True.
Soc. Then the
acquisition of such goods is no more virtue than the non-acquisition and want of
them, but whatever is accompanied by justice or honesty is virtue, and whatever
is devoid of justice is vice.
Men. It cannot be
otherwise, in my judgment.
Soc. And were we not
saying just now that justice, temperance, and the like, were each of them a part
of virtue ?
Men.
Yes.
Soc. And so, Meno, this
is the way in which you mock me.
Men. Why do you say
that, Socrates ?
Soc. Why, because I
asked you to deliver virtue into my hands whole and unbroken, and I gave you a
pattern according to which you were to frame your answer ; and you have
forgotten already, and tell me that virtue is the power of attaining good
justly, or with justice ; and justice you acknowledge to be a part of
virtue.
Men.
Yes.
Soc. Then it follows
from your own admissions, that virtue is doing what you do with a part of
virtue ; for justice and the like are said by you to be parts of
virtue.
Men. What of
that ?
Soc. What of
that ! Why, did not I ask you to tell me the nature of virtue as a
whole ? And you are very far from telling me this ; but declare every
action to be virtue which is done with a part of virtue ; as though you had
told me and I must already know the whole of virtue, and this too when frittered
away into little pieces. And, therefore, my dear I fear that I must begin again
and repeat the same question : What is virtue ? for otherwise, I can
only say, that every action done with a part of virtue is virtue ; what
else is the meaning of saying that every action done with justice is
virtue ? Ought I not to ask the question over again ; for can any one
who does not know virtue know a part of virtue ?
Men. No ; I do not
say that he can.
Soc. Do you remember
how, in the example of figure, we rejected any answer given in terms which were
as yet unexplained or unadmitted ?
Men. Yes,
Socrates ; and we were quite right in doing so.
Soc. But then, my
friend, do not suppose that we can explain to any one the nature of virtue as a
whole through some unexplained portion of virtue, or anything at all in that
fashion ; we should only have to ask over again the old question, What is
virtue ? Am I not right ?
Men. I believe that you
are.
Soc. Then begin again,
and answer me. What, according to you and your friend Gorgias, is the definition
of virtue ?
Men. O Socrates, I used
to be told, before I knew you, that you were always doubting yourself and making
others doubt ; and now you are casting your spells over me, and I am simply
getting bewitched and enchanted, and am at my wits’ end. And if I may venture to
make a jest upon you, you seem to me both in your appearance and in your power
over others to be very like the flat torpedo fish, who torpifies those who come
near him and touch him, as you have now torpified me, I think. For my soul and
my tongue are really torpid, and I do not know how to answer you ; and
though I have been delivered of an infinite variety of speeches about virtue
before now, and to many persons — and very good ones they were, as I thought —
at this moment I cannot even say what virtue is. And I think that. you are very
wise in not voyaging and going away from home, for if you did in other places as
do in Athens, you would be cast into prison as a magician.
Soc. You are a rogue,
Meno, and had all but caught me.
Men. What do you mean,
Socrates ?
Soc. I can tell why you
made a simile about me.
Men.
Why ?
Soc. In order that I
might make another simile about you. For I know that all pretty young gentlemen
like to have pretty similes made about them — as well they may — but I shall not
return the compliment. As to my being a torpedo, if the torpedo is torpid as
well as the cause of torpidity in others, then indeed I am a torpedo, but not
otherwise ; for I perplex others, not because I am clear, but because I am
utterly perplexed myself. And now I know not what virtue is, and you seem to be
in the same case, although you did once perhaps know before you touched me.
However, I have no objection to join with you in the
enquiry.
Men. And how will you
enquire, Socrates, into that which you do not know ? What will you put
forth as the subject of enquiry ? And if you find what you want, how will
you ever know that this is the thing which you did not
know ?
Soc. I know, Meno, what
you mean ; but just see what a tiresome dispute you are introducing. You
argue that man cannot enquire either about that which he knows, or about that
which he does not know ; for if he knows, he has no need to enquire ;
and if not, he cannot ; for he does not know the, very subject about which
he is to enquire.
Men. Well, Socrates,
and is not the argument sound ?
Soc. I think
not.
Men. Why
not ?
Soc. I will tell you
why : I have heard from certain wise men and women who spoke of things
divine that —
Men. What did they
say ?
Soc. They spoke of a
glorious truth, as I conceive.
Men. What was it ?
and who were they ?
Soc. Some of them were
priests and priestesses, who had studied how they might be able to give a reason
of their profession : there, have been poets also, who spoke of these
things by inspiration, like Pindar, and many others who were inspired. And they
say — mark, now, and see whether their words are true — they say that the soul
of man is immortal, and at one time has an end, which is termed dying, and at
another time is born again, but is never destroyed. And the moral is, that a man
ought to live always in perfect holiness.
“For in the ninth
year Persephone sends the souls of those from whom she has received the penalty
of ancient crime back again from beneath into the light of the sun above, and
these are they who become noble kings and mighty men and great in wisdom and are
called saintly heroes in after ages.”
The soul, then, as
being immortal, and having been born again many times, rand having seen all
things that exist, whether in this world or in the world below, has knowledge of
them all ; and it is no wonder that she should be able to call to
remembrance all that she ever knew about virtue, and about everything ; for
as all nature is akin, and the soul has learned all things ; there is no
difficulty in her eliciting or as men say learning, out of a single recollection
— all the rest, if a man is strenuous and does not faint ; for all enquiry
and all learning is but recollection. And therefore we ought not to listen to
this sophistical argument about the impossibility of enquiry : for it will
make us idle ; and is sweet only to the sluggard ; but the other
saying will make us active and inquisitive. In that confiding, I will gladly
enquire with you into the nature of virtue.
Men. Yes,
Socrates ; but what do you mean by saying that we do not learn, and that
what we call learning is only a process of recollection ? Can you teach me
how this is ?
Soc. I told you, Meno,
just now that you were a rogue, and now you ask whether I can teach you, when I
am saying that there is no teaching, but only recollection ; and thus you
imagine that you will involve me in a contradiction.
Men. Indeed, Socrates,
I protest that I had no such intention. I only asked the question from
habit ; but if you can prove to me that what you say is true, I wish that
you would.
Soc. It will be no easy
matter, but I will try to please you to the utmost of my power. Suppose that you
call one of your numerous attendants, that I may demonstrate on
him.
Men. Certainly. Come
hither, Boy.
Soc. He is Greek, and
speaks Greek, does he not ?
Men. Yes, indeed ;
he was born in the house.
Soc. Attend now to the
questions which I ask him, and observe whether he learns of me or only
remembers.
Men. I
will.
Soc. Tell me, boy, do
you know that a figure like this is a square ?
Boy. I
do.
Soc. And you know that
a square figure has these four lines equal ?
Boy.
Certainly.
Soc. And these lines
which I have drawn through the middle of the square are also
equal ?
Boy.
Yes.
Soc. A square may be of
any size ?
Boy.
Certainly.
Soc. And if one side of
the figure be of two feet, and the other side be of two feet, how much will the
whole be ? Let me explain : if in one direction the space was of two
feet, and in other direction of one foot, the whole would be of two feet taken
once ?
Boy.
Yes.
Soc. But since this
side is also of two feet, there are twice two feet ?
Boy. There
are.
Soc. Then the square is
of twice two feet ?
Boy.
Yes.
Soc. And how many are
twice two feet ? count and tell me.
Boy. Four,
Socrates.
Soc. And might there
not be another square twice as large as this, and having like this the lines
equal ?
Boy.
Yes.
Soc. And of how many
feet will that be ?
Boy. Of eight
feet.
Soc. And now try and
tell me the length of the line which forms the side of that double square :
this is two feet — what will that be ?
Boy. Clearly, Socrates,
it will be double.
Soc. Do you observe,
Meno, that I am not teaching the boy anything, but only asking him
questions ; and now he fancies that he knows how long a line is necessary
in order to produce a figure of eight square feet ; does he
not ?
Men.
Yes.
Soc. And does he really
know ?
Men. Certainly
not.
Soc. He only guesses
that because the square is double, the line is double.
Men.
True.
Soc. Observe him while
he recalls the steps in regular order. (To the Boy.) Tell me, boy, do you assert
that a double space comes from a double line ? Remember that I am not
speaking of an oblong, but of a figure equal every way, and twice the size of
this — that is to say of eight feet ; and I want to know whether you still
say that a double square comes from double line ?
Boy.
Yes.
Soc. But does not this
line become doubled if we add another such line
here ?
Boy.
Certainly.
Soc. And four such
lines will make a space containing eight feet ?
Boy.
Yes.
Soc. Let us describe
such a figure : Would you not say that this is the figure of eight
feet ?
Boy.
Yes.
Soc. And are there not
these four divisions in the figure, each of which is equal to the figure of four
feet ?
Boy.
True.
Soc. And is not that
four times four ?
Boy.
Certainly.
Soc. And four times is
not double ?
Boy. No,
indeed.
Soc. But how
much ?
Boy. Four times as
much.
Soc. Therefore the
double line, boy, has given a space, not twice, but four times as
much.
Boy.
True.
Soc. Four times four
are sixteen — are they not ?
Boy.
Yes.
Soc. What line would
give you a space of eight feet, as this gives one of sixteen feet ; — do
you see ?
Boy.
Yes.
Soc. And the space of
four feet is made from this half line ?
Boy.
Yes.
Soc. Good ; and is
not a space of eight feet twice the size of this, and half the size of the
other ?
Boy.
Certainly.
Soc. Such a space,
then, will be made out of a line greater than this one, and less than that
one ?
Boy. Yes ; I think
so.
Soc. Very good ; I
like to hear you say what you think. And now tell me, is not this a line of two
feet and that of four ?
Boy.
Yes.
Soc. Then the line
which forms the side of eight feet ought to be more than this line of two feet,
and less than the other of four feet ?
Boy. It
ought.
Soc. Try and see if you
can tell me how much it will be.
Boy. Three
feet.
Soc. Then if we add a
half to this line of two, that will be the line of three. Here are two and there
is one ; and on the other side, here are two also and there is one :
and that makes the figure of which you speak ?
Boy.
Yes.
Soc. But if there are
three feet this way and three feet that way, the whole space will be three times
three feet ?
Boy. That is
evident.
Soc. And how much are
three times three feet ?
Boy.
Nine.
Soc. And how much is
the double of four ?
Boy.
Eight.
Soc. Then the figure of
eight is not made out of a of three ?
Boy.
No.
Soc. But from what
line ? — tell me exactly ; and if you would rather not reckon, try and
show me the line.
Boy. Indeed, Socrates,
I do not know.
Soc. Do you see, Meno,
what advances he has made in his power of recollection ? He did not know at
first, and he does not know now, what is the side of a figure of eight
feet : but then he thought that he knew, and answered confidently as if he
knew, and had no difficulty ; now he has a difficulty, and neither knows
nor fancies that he knows.
Men.
True.
Soc. Is he not better
off in knowing his ignorance ?
Men. I think that he
is.
Soc. If we have made
him doubt, and given him the “torpedo’s shock,” have we done him any
harm ?
Men. I think
not.
Soc. We have certainly,
as would seem, assisted him in some degree to the discovery of the truth ;
and now he will wish to remedy his ignorance, but then he would have been ready
to tell all the world again and again that the double space should have a double
side.
Men.
True.
Soc. But do you suppose
that he would ever have enquired into or learned what he fancied that he knew,
though he was really ignorant of it, until he had fallen into perplexity under
the idea that he did not know, and had desired to
know ?
Men. I think not,
Socrates.
Soc. Then he was the
better for the torpedo’s touch ?
Men. I think
so.
Soc. Mark now the
farther development. I shall only ask him, and not teach him, and he shall share
the enquiry with me : and do you watch and see if you find me telling or
explaining anything to him, instead of eliciting his opinion. Tell me, boy, is
not this a square of four feet which I have drawn ?
Boy.
Yes.
Soc. And now I add
another square equal to the former one ?
Boy.
Yes.
Soc. And a third, which
is equal to either of them ?
Boy.
Yes.
Soc. Suppose that we
fill up the vacant corner ?
Boy. Very
good.
Soc. Here, then, there
are four equal spaces ?
Boy.
Yes.
Soc. And how many times
larger is this space than this other ?
Boy. Four
times.
Soc. But it ought to
have been twice only, as you will remember.
Boy.
True.
Soc. And does not this
line, reaching from corner to corner, bisect each of these
spaces ?
Boy.
Yes.
Soc. And are there not
here four equal lines which contain this space ?
Boy. There
are.
Soc. Look and see how
much this space is.
Boy. I do not
understand.
Soc. Has not each
interior line cut off half of the four spaces ?
Boy.
Yes.
Soc. And how many
spaces are there in this section ?
Boy.
Four.
Soc. And how many in
this ?
Boy.
Two.
Soc. And four is how
many times two ?
Boy.
Twice.
Soc. And this space is
of how many feet ?
Boy. Of eight
feet.
Soc. And from what line
do you get this figure ?
Boy. From
this.
Soc. That is, from the
line which extends from corner to corner of the figure of four
feet ?
Boy.
Yes.
Soc. And that is the
line which the learned call the diagonal. And if this is the proper name, then
you, Meno’s slave, are prepared to affirm that the double space is the square of
the diagonal ?
Boy. Certainly,
Socrates.
Soc. What do you say of
him, Meno ? Were not all these answers given out of his own
head ?
Men. Yes, they were all
his own.
Soc. And yet, as we
were just now saying, he did not know ?
Men.
True.
Soc. But still he had
in him those notions of his — had he not ?
Men.
Yes.
Soc. Then he who does
not know may still have true notions of that which he does not
know ?
Men. He
has.
Soc. And at present
these notions have just been stirred up in him, as in a dream ; but if he
were frequently asked the same questions, in different forms, he would know as
well as any one at last ?
Men. I dare
say.
Soc. Without any one
teaching him he will recover his knowledge for himself, if he is only asked
questions ?
Men.
Yes.
Soc. And this
spontaneous recovery of knowledge in him is
recollection ?
Men.
True.
Soc. And this knowledge
which he now has must he not either have acquired or always
possessed ?
Men.
Yes.
Soc. But if he always
possessed this knowledge he would always have known ; or if he has acquired
the knowledge he could not have acquired it in this life, unless he has been
taught geometry ; for he may be made to do the same with all geometry and
every other branch of knowledge. Now, has any one ever taught him all
this ? You must know about him, if, as you say, he was born and bred in
your house.
Men. And I am certain
that no one ever did teach him.
Soc. And yet he has the
knowledge ?
Men. The fact,
Socrates, is undeniable.
Soc. But if he did not
acquire the knowledge in this life, then he must have had and learned it at some
other time ?
Men. Clearly he
must.
Soc. Which must have
been the time when he was not a man ?
Men.
Yes.
Soc. And if there have
been always true thoughts in him, both at the time when he was and was not a
man, which only need to be awakened into knowledge by putting questions to him,
his soul must have always possessed this knowledge, for he always either was or
was not a man ?
Men.
Obviously.
Soc. And if the truth
of all things always existed in the soul, then the soul is immortal. Wherefore
be of good cheer, and try to recollect what you do not know, or rather what you
do not remember.
Men. I feel, somehow,
that I like what you are saying.
Soc. And I, Meno, like
what I am saying. Some things I have said of which I am not altogether
confident. But that we shall be better and braver and less helpless if we think
that we ought to enquire, than we should have been if we indulged in the idle
fancy that there was no knowing and no use in seeking to know what we do not
know ; — that is a theme upon which I am ready to fight, in word and deed,
to the utmost of my power.
Men. There again,
Socrates, your words seem to me excellent.
Soc. Then, as we are
agreed that a man should enquire about that which he does not know, shall you
and I make an effort to enquire together into the nature of
virtue ?
Men. By all means,
Socrates. And yet I would much rather return to my original question, Whether in
seeking to acquire virtue we should regard it as a thing to be taught, or as a
gift of nature, or as coming to men in some other
way ?
Soc. Had I the command
of you as well as of myself, Meno, I would not have enquired whether virtue is
given by instruction or not, until we had first ascertained “what it is.” But as
you think only of controlling me who am your slave, and never of controlling
yourself, — such being your notion of freedom, I must yield to you, for you are
irresistible. And therefore I have now to enquire into the qualities of a thing
of which I do not as yet know the nature. At any rate, will you condescend a
little, and allow the question “Whether virtue is given by instruction, or in
any other way,” to be argued upon hypothesis ? As the geometrician, when he
is asked whether a certain triangle is capable being inscribed in a certain
circle, will reply : “I cannot tell you as yet ; but I will offer a
hypothesis which may assist us in forming a conclusion : If the figure be
such that when you have produced a given side of it, the given area of the
triangle falls short by an area corresponding to the part produced, then one
consequence follows, and if this is impossible then some other ; and
therefore I wish to assume a hypothesis before I tell you whether this triangle
is capable of being inscribed in the circle” : — that is a geometrical
hypothesis. And we too, as we know not the nature and qualities of virtue, must
ask, whether virtue is or not taught, under a hypothesis : as thus, if
virtue is of such a class of mental goods, will it be taught or not ? Let
the first hypothesis be — that virtue is or is not knowledge, — in that case
will it be taught or not ? or, as we were just now saying,
“remembered” ? For there is no use in disputing about the name. But is
virtue taught or not ? or rather, does not everyone see that knowledge
alone is taught ?
Men. I
agree.
Soc. Then if virtue is
knowledge, virtue will be taught ?
Men.
Certainly.
Soc. Then now we have
made a quick end of this question : if virtue is of such a nature, it will
be taught ; and if not, not ?
Men.
Certainly.
Soc. The next question
is, whether virtue is knowledge or of another
species ?
Men. Yes, that appears
to be the question which comes next in order.
Soc. Do we not say that
virtue is a good ? — This is a hypothesis which is not set
aside.
Men.
Certainly.
Soc. Now, if there be
any sort-of good which is distinct from knowledge, virtue may be that
good ; but if knowledge embraces all good, then we shall be right in think
in that virtue is knowledge ?
Men.
True.
Soc. And virtue makes
us good ?
Men.
Yes.
Soc. And if we are
good, then we are profitable ; for all good things are
profitable ?
Men.
Yes.
Soc. Then virtue is
profitable ?
Men. That is the only
inference.
Soc. Then now let us
see what are the things which severally profit us. Health and strength, and
beauty and wealth — these, and the like of these, we call
profitable ?
Men.
True.
Soc. And yet these
things may also sometimes do us harm : would you not think
so ?
Men.
Yes.
Soc. And what is the
guiding principle which makes them profitable or the reverse ? Are they not
profitable when they are rightly used, and hurtful when they are not rightly
used ?
Men.
Certainly.
Soc. Next, let us
consider the goods of the soul : they are temperance, justice, courage,
quickness of apprehension, memory, magnanimity, and the
like ?
Men.
Surely.
Soc. And such of these
as are not knowledge, but of another sort, are sometimes profitable and
sometimes hurtful ; as, for example, courage wanting prudence, which is
only a sort of confidence ? When a man has no sense he is harmed by
courage, but when he has sense he is profited ?
Men.
True.
Soc. And the same may
be said of temperance and quickness of apprehension ; whatever things are
learned or done with sense are profitable, but when done without sense they are
hurtful ?
Men. Very
true.
Soc. And in general,
all that the attempts or endures, when under the guidance of wisdom, ends in
happiness ; but when she is under the guidance of folly, in the
opposite ?
Men. That appears to be
true.
Soc. If then virtue is
a quality of the soul, and is admitted to be profitable, it must be wisdom or
prudence, since none of the things of the soul are either profitable or hurtful
in themselves, but they are all made profitable or hurtful by the addition of
wisdom or of folly ; and therefore and therefore if virtue is profitable,
virtue must be a sort of wisdom or prudence ?
Men. I quite
agree.
Soc. And the other
goods, such as wealth and the like, of which we were just now saying that they
are sometimes good and sometimes evil, do not they also become profitable or
hurtful, accordingly as the soul guides and uses them rightly or wrongly ;
just as the things of the soul herself are benefited when under the guidance of
wisdom and harmed by folly ?
Men.
True.
Soc. And the wise soul
guides them rightly, and the foolish soul wrongly.
Men.
Yes.
Soc. And is not this
universally true of human nature ? All other things hang upon the soul, and
the things of the soul herself hang upon wisdom, if they are to be good ;
and so wisdom is inferred to be that which profits — and virtue, as we say, is
profitable ?
Men.
Certainly.
Soc. And thus we arrive
at the conclusion that virtue is either wholly or partly
wisdom ?
Men. I think that what
you are saying, Socrates, is very true.
Soc. But if this is
true, then the good are not by nature good ?
Men. I think
not.
Soc. If they had been,
there would assuredly have been discerners of characters among us who would have
known our future great men ; and on their showing we should have adopted
them, and when we had got them, we should have kept them in the citadel out of
the way of harm, and set a stamp upon them far rather than upon a piece of gold,
in order that no one might tamper with them ; and when they grew up they
would have been useful to the state ?
Men. Yes, Socrates,
that would have been the right way.
Soc. But if the good
are not by nature good, are they made good by
instruction ?
Men. There appears to
be no other alternative, Socrates. On the supposition that virtue is knowledge,
there can be no doubt that virtue is taught.
Soc. Yes, indeed ;
but what if the supposition is erroneous ?
Men. I certainly
thought just now that we were right.
Soc. Yes, Meno ;
but a principle which has any soundness should stand firm not only just now, but
always.
Men. Well ; and
why are you so slow of heart to believe that knowledge is
virtue ?
Soc. I will try and
tell you why, Meno. I do not retract the assertion that if virtue is knowledge
it may be taught ; but I fear that I have some reason in doubting whether
virtue is knowledge : for consider now. and say whether virtue, and not
only virtue but anything that is taught, must not have teachers and
disciples ?
Men.
Surely.
Soc. And conversely,
may not the art of which neither teachers nor disciples exist be assumed to be
incapable of being taught ?
Men. True ; but do
you think that there are no teachers of virtue ?
Soc. I have certainly
often enquired whether there were any, and taken great pains to find them, and
have never succeeded ; and many have assisted me in the search, and they
were the persons whom I thought the most likely to know. Here at the moment when
he is wanted we fortunately have sitting by us Anytus, the very person of whom
we should make enquiry ; to him then let us repair. In the first Place, he
is the son of a wealthy and wise father, Anthemion, who acquired his wealth, not
by accident or gift, like Ismenias the Theban (who has recently made himself as
rich as Polycrates), but by his own skill and industry, and who is a
well-conditioned, modest man, not insolent, or over-bearing, or annoying ;
moreover, this son of his has received a good education, as the Athenian people
certainly appear to think, for they choose him to fill the highest offices. And
these are the sort of men from whom you are likely to learn whether there are
any teachers of virtue, and who they are. Please, Anytus, to help me and your
friend Meno in answering our question : Who are the teachers ?
Consider the matter thus : If we wanted Meno to be a good physician, to
whom should we send him ? Should we not send him to the
physicians ?
Anytus.
Certainly.
Soc. Or if we wanted
him to be a good cobbler, should we not send him to the
cobblers ?
Any.
Yes.
Soc. And so
forth ?
Any.
Yes.
Soc. Let me trouble you
with one more question. When we say that we should be right in sending him to
the physicians if we wanted him to be a physician, do we mean that we should be
right in sending him to those who profess the art, rather than to those who do
not, and to those who demand payment for teaching the art, and profess to teach
it to any one who will come and learn ? And if these were our reasons,
should we not be right in sending him ?
Any.
Yes.
Soc. And might not the
same be said of flute-playing, and of the other arts ? Would a man who
wanted to make another a flute-player refuse to send him to those who profess to
teach the art for money, and be plaguing other persons to give him instruction,
who are not professed teachers and who never had a single disciple in that
branch of knowledge which he wishes him to acquire — would not such conduct be
the height of folly ?
Any. Yes, by Zeus, and
of ignorance too.
Soc. Very good. And now
you are in a position to advise with me about my friend Meno. He has been
telling me, Anytus, that he desires to attain that kind of wisdom and virtue by
which men order the state or the house, and honour their parents, and know when
to receive and when to send away citizens and strangers, as a good man should.
Now, to whom should he go in order that he may learn this virtue ? Does not
the previous argument imply clearly that we should send him to those who profess
and avouch that they are the common teachers of all Hellas, and are ready to
impart instruction to any one who likes, at a fixed
price ?
Any. Whom do you mean,
Socrates ?
Soc. You surely know,
do you not, Anytus, that these are the people whom mankind call
Sophists ?
Any. By Heracles,
Socrates, forbear ! I only hope that no friend or kinsman or acquaintance
of mine, whether citizen or stranger, will ever be so mad as to allow himself to
be corrupted by them ; for they are a manifest pest and corrupting
influences to those who have to do with them.
Soc. What,
Anytus ? Of all the people who profess that they know how to do men good,
do you mean to say that these are the only ones who not only do them no good,
but positively corrupt those who are entrusted to them, and in return for this
disservice have the face to demand money ? Indeed, I cannot believe
you ; for I know of a single man, Protagoras, who made more out of his
craft than the illustrious Pheidias, who created such noble works, or any ten
other statuaries. How could that A mender of old shoes, or patcher up of
clothes, who made the shoes or clothes worse than he received them, could not
have remained thirty days undetected, and would very soon have starved ;
whereas during more than forty years, Protagoras was corrupting all Hellas, and
sending his disciples from him worse than he received them, and he was never
found out. For, if I am not mistaken, — he was about seventy years old at his
death, forty of which were spent in the practice of his profession ; and
during all that time he had a good reputation, which to this day he
retains : and not only Protagoras, but many others are well spoken
of ; some who lived before him, and others who are still living. Now, when
you say that they deceived and corrupted the youth, are they to be supposed to
have corrupted them consciously or unconsciously ? Can those who were
deemed by many to be the wisest men of Hellas have been out of their
minds ?
Any. Out of their
minds ! No, Socrates ; the young men who gave their money to them,
were out of their minds, and their relations and guardians who entrusted their
youth to the care of these men were still more out of their minds, and most of
all, the cities who allowed them to come in, and did not drive them out, citizen
and stranger alike.
Soc. Has any of the
Sophists wronged you, Anytus ? What makes you so angry with
them ?
Any. No, indeed,
neither I nor any of my belongings has ever had, nor would I suffer them to
have, anything to do with them.
Soc. Then you are
entirely unacquainted with them ?
Any. And I have no wish
to be acquainted.
Soc. Then, my dear
friend, how can you know whether a thing is good or bad of which you are wholly
ignorant ?
Any. Quite well ;
I am sure that I know what manner of men these are, whether I am acquainted with
them or not.
Soc. You must be a
diviner, Anytus, for I really cannot make out, judging from your own words, how,
if you are not acquainted with them, you know about them. But I am not enquiring
of you who are the teachers who will corrupt Meno (let them be, if you please,
the Sophists) ; I only ask you to tell him who there is in this great city
who will teach him how to become eminent in the virtues which I was just, now
describing. He is the friend of your family, and you will oblige
him.
Any. Why do you not
tell him yourself ?
Soc. I have told him
whom I supposed to be the teachers of these things ; but I learn from you
that I am utterly at fault, and I dare say that you are right. And now I wish
that you, on your part, would tell me to whom among the Athenians he should go.
Whom would you name ?
Any. Why single out
individuals ? Any Athenian gentleman, taken at random, if he will mind him,
will do far more, good to him than the Sophists.
Soc. And did those
gentlemen grow of themselves ; and without having been taught by any one,
were they nevertheless able to teach others that which they had never learned
themselves ?
Any. I imagine that
they learned of the previous generation of gentlemen. Have there not been many
good men in this city ?
Soc. Yes, certainly,
Anytus ; and many good statesmen also there always have been and there are
still, in the city of Athens. But the question is whether they were also good
teachers of their own virtue ; — not whether there are, or have been, good
men in this part of the world, but whether virtue can be taught, is the question
which we have been discussing. Now, do we mean to say that the good men our own
and of other times knew how to impart to others that virtue which they had
themselves ; or is virtue a thing incapable of being communicated or
imparted by one man to another ? That is the question which I and Meno have
been arguing. Look at the matter in your own way : Would you not admit that
Themistocles was a good man ?
Any. Certainly ;
no man better.
Soc. And must not he
then have been a good teacher, if any man ever was a good teacher, of his own
virtue ?
Any. Yes certainly, —
if he wanted to be so.
Soc. But would he not
have wanted ? He would, at any rate, have desired to make his own son a
good man and a gentleman ; he could not have been jealous of him, or have
intentionally abstained from imparting to him his own virtue. Did you never hear
that he made his son Cleophantus a famous horseman ; and had him taught to
stand upright on horseback and hurl a javelin, and to do many other marvellous
things ; and in anything which could be learned from a master he was well
trained ? Have you not heard from our elders of
him ?
Any. I
have.
Soc. Then no one could
say that his son showed any want of capacity ?
Any. Very likely
not.
Soc. But did any one,
old or young, ever say in your hearing that Cleophantus, son of Themistocles,
was a wise or good man, as his father was ?
Any. I have certainly
never heard any one say so.
Soc. And if virtue
could have been taught, would his father Themistocles have sought to train him
in these minor accomplishments, and allowed him who, as you must remember, was
his own son, to be no better than his neighbours in those qualities in which he
himself excelled ?
Any. Indeed, indeed, I
think not.
Soc. Here was a teacher
of virtue whom you admit to be among the best men of the past. Let us take
another, — Aristides, the son of Lysimachus : would you not acknowledge
that he was a good man ?
Any. To be sure I
should.
Soc. And did not he
train his son Lysimachus better than any other Athenian in all that could be
done for him by the help of masters ? But what has been the result ?
Is he a bit better than any other mortal ? He is an acquaintance of yours,
and you see what he is like. There is Pericles, again, magnificent in his
wisdom ; and he, as you are aware, had two sons, Paralus and
Xanthippus.
Any. I
know.
Soc. And you know,
also, that he taught them to be unrivalled horsemen, and had them trained in
music and gymnastics and all sorts of arts — in these respects they were on a
level with the best — and had he no wish to make good men of them ? Nay, he
must have wished it. But virtue, as I suspect, could not be taught. And that you
may not suppose the incompetent teachers to be only the meaner sort of Athenians
and few in number, remember again that Thucydides had two sons, Melesias and
Stephanus, whom, besides giving them a good education in other things, he
trained in wrestling, and they were the best wrestlers in Athens : one of
them he committed to the care of Xanthias, and the other of Eudorus, who had the
reputation of being the most celebrated wrestlers of that day. Do you remember
them ?
Any. I have heard of
them.
Soc. Now, can there be
a doubt that Thucydides, whose children were taught things for which he had to
spend money, would have taught them to be good men, which would have cost him
nothing, if virtue could have been taught ? Will you reply that he was a
mean man, and had not many friends among the Athenians and allies ? Nay,
but he was of a great family, and a man of influence at Athens and in all
Hellas, and, if virtue could have been taught, he would have found out some
Athenian or foreigner who would have made good men of his sons, if he could not
himself spare the time from cares of state. Once more, I suspect, friend Anytus,
that virtue is not a thing which can be taught ?
Any. Socrates, I think
that you are too ready to speak evil of men : and, if you will take my
advice, I would recommend you to be careful. Perhaps there is no city in which
it is not easier to do men harm than to do them good, and this is certainly the
case at Athens, as I believe that you know.
Soc. O Meno, think that
Anytus is in a rage. And he may well be in a rage, for he thinks, in the first
place, that I am defaming these gentlemen ; and in the second place, he is
of opinion that he is one of them himself. But some day he will know what is the
meaning of defamation, and if he ever does, he will forgive me. Meanwhile I will
return to you, Meno ; for I suppose that there are gentlemen in your region
too ?
Men. Certainly there
are.
Soc. And are they
willing to teach the young ? and do they profess to be teachers ? and
do they agree that virtue is taught ?
Men. No indeed,
Socrates, they are anything but agreed ; you may hear them saying at one
time that virtue can be taught, and then again the
reverse.
Soc. Can we call those
teachers who do not acknowledge the possibility of their own
vocation ?
Men. I think not,
Socrates.
Soc. And what do you
think of these Sophists, who are the only professors ? Do they seem to you
to be teachers of virtue ?
Men. I often wonder,
Socrates, that Gorgias is never heard promising to teach virtue : and when
he hears others promising he only laughs at them ; but he thinks that men
should be taught to speak.
Soc. Then do you not
think that the Sophists are teachers ?
Men. I cannot tell you,
Socrates ; like the rest of the world, I am in doubt, and sometimes I think
that they are teachers and sometimes not.
Soc. And are you aware
that not you only and other politicians have doubts whether virtue can be taught
or not, but that Theognis the poet says the very same
thing ?
Men. Where does he say
so ?
Soc. In these elegiac
verses : Eat and drink and sit with the mighty, and make yourself agreeable
to them ; for from the good you will learn what is good, but if you mix
with the bad you will lose the intelligence which you already have. Do you
observe that here he seems to imply that virtue can be
taught ?
Men.
Clearly.
Soc. But in some other
verses he shifts about and says : If understanding could be created and put
into a man, then they [who were able to perform this feat] would have obtained
great rewards. And again : — Never would a bad son have sprung from a good
sire, for he would have heard the voice of instruction ; but not by
teaching will you ever make a bad man into a good one. And this, as you may
remark, is a contradiction of the other.
Men.
Clearly.
Soc. And is there
anything else of which the professors are affirmed not only not to be teachers
of others, but to be ignorant themselves, and bad at the knowledge of that which
they are professing to teach ? or is there anything about which even the
acknowledged “gentlemen” are sometimes saying that “this thing can be taught,”
and sometimes the opposite ? Can you say that they are teachers in any true
sense whose ideas are in such confusion ?
Men. I should say,
certainly not.
Soc. But if neither the
Sophists nor the gentlemen are teachers, clearly there can be no other
teachers ?
Men.
No.
Soc. And if there are
no teachers, neither are there disciples ?
Men.
Agreed.
Soc. And we have
admitted that a thing cannot be taught of which there are neither teachers nor
disciples ?
Men. We
have.
Soc. And there are no
teachers of virtue to be found anywhere ?
Men. There are
not.
Soc. And if there are
no teachers, neither are there scholars ?
Men. That, I think, is
true.
Soc. Then virtue cannot
be taught ?
Men. Not if we are
right in our view. But I cannot believe, Socrates, that there are no good
men : And if there are, how did they come into
existence ?
Soc. I am afraid, Meno,
that you and I are not good for much, and that Gorgias has been as poor an
educator of you as Prodicus has been of me. Certainly we shall have to look to
ourselves, and try to find some one who will help in some way or other to
improve us. This I say, because I observe that in the previous discussion none
of us remarked that right and good action is possible to man under other
guidance than that of knowledge (episteme) ; — and indeed if this be
denied, there is no seeing how there can be any good men at
all.
Men. How do you mean,
Socrates ?
Soc. I mean that good
men are necessarily useful or profitable. Were we not right in admitting
this ? It must be so.
Men.
Yes.
Soc. And in supposing
that they will be useful only if they are true guides to us of action — there we
were also right ?
Men.
Yes.
Soc. But when we said
that a man cannot be a good guide unless he have knowledge (phrhonesis), this we
were wrong.
Men. What do you mean
by the word “right” ?
Soc. I will explain. If
a man knew the way to Larisa, or anywhere else, and went to the place and led
others thither, would he not be a right and good
guide ?
Men.
Certainly.
Soc. And a person who
had a right opinion about the way, but had never been and did not know, might be
a good guide also, might he not ?
Men.
Certainly.
Soc. And while he has
true opinion about that which the other knows, he will be just as good a guide
if he thinks the truth, as he who knows the truth ?
Men.
Exactly.
Soc. Then true opinion
is as good a guide to correct action as knowledge ; and that was the point
which we omitted in our speculation about the nature of virtue, when we said
that knowledge only is the guide of right action ; whereas there is also
right opinion.
Men.
True.
Soc. Then right opinion
is not less useful than knowledge ?
Men. The difference,
Socrates, is only that he who has knowledge will always be right ; but he
who has right opinion will sometimes be right, and sometimes
not.
Soc. What do you
mean ? Can he be wrong who has right opinion, so long as he has right
opinion ?
Men. I admit the
cogency of your argument, and therefore, Socrates, I wonder that knowledge
should be preferred to right opinion — or why they should ever
differ.
Soc. And shall I
explain this wonder to you ?
Men. Do tell
me.
Soc. You would not
wonder if you had ever observed the images of Daedalus ; but perhaps you
have not got them in your country ?
Men. What have they to
do with the question ?
Soc. Because they
require to be fastened in order to keep them, and if they are not fastened they
will play truant and run away.
Men. Well. what of
that ?
Soc. I mean to say that
they are not very valuable possessions if they are at liberty, for they will
walk off like runaway slaves ; but when fastened, they are of great value,
for they are really beautiful works of art. Now this is an illustration of the
nature of true opinions : while they abide with us they are beautiful and
fruitful, but they run away out of the human soul, and do not remain long, and
therefore they are not of much value until they are fastened by the tie of the
cause ; and this fastening of them, friend Meno, is recollection, as you
and I have agreed to call it. But when they are bound, in the first place, they
have the nature of knowledge ; and, in the second place, they are abiding.
And this is why knowledge is more honourable and excellent than true opinion,
because fastened by a chain.
Men. What you are
saying, Socrates, seems to be very like the truth.
Soc. I too speak rather
in ignorance ; I only conjecture. And yet that knowledge differs from true
opinion is no matter of conjecture with me. There are not many things which I
profess to know, but this is most certainly one of them.
Men. Yes,
Socrates ; and you are quite right in saying so.
Soc. And am I not also
right in saying that true opinion leading the way perfects action quite as well
as knowledge ?
Men. There again,
Socrates, I think you are right.
Soc. Then right opinion
is not a whit inferior to knowledge, or less useful in action ; nor is the
man who has right opinion inferior to him who has
knowledge ?
Men.
True.
Soc. And surely the
good man has been acknowledged by us to be useful ?
Men.
Yes.
Soc. Seeing then that
men become good and useful to states, not only because they have knowledge, but
because they have right opinion, and that neither knowledge nor right opinion is
given to man by nature or acquired by him — do you imagine either of them to be
given by nature ?
Men. Not
I.
Soc. Then if they are
not given by nature, neither are the good by nature
good ?
Men. Certainly
not.
Soc. And nature being
excluded, then came the question whether virtue is acquired by
teaching ?
Men.
Yes.
Soc. If virtue was
wisdom [or knowledge], then, as we thought, it was
taught ?
Men.
Yes.
Soc. And if it was
taught it was wisdom ?
Men.
Certainly.
Soc. And if there were
teachers, it might be taught ; and if there were no teachers,
not ?
Men.
True.
Soc. But surely we
acknowledged that there were no teachers of virtue ?
Men.
Yes.
Soc. Then we
acknowledged that it was not taught, and was not
wisdom ?
Men.
Certainly.
Soc. And yet we
admitted that it was a good ?
Men.
Yes.
Soc. And the right
guide is useful and good ?
Men.
Certainly.
Soc. And the only right
guides are knowledge and true opinion — these are the guides of man ; for
things which happen by chance are not under the guidance of man : but the
guides of man are true opinion and knowledge.
Men. I think so
too.
Soc. But if virtue is
not taught, neither is virtue knowledge.
Men. Clearly
not.
Soc. Then of two good
and useful things, one, which is knowledge, has been set aside, and cannot be
supposed to be our guide in political life.
Men. I think
not.
Soc. And therefore not
by any wisdom, and not because they were wise, did Themistocles and those others
of whom Anytus spoke govern states. This was the reason why they were unable to
make others like themselves — because their virtue was not grounded on
knowledge.
Men. That is probably
true, Socrates.
Soc. But if not by
knowledge, the only alternative which remains is that statesmen must have guided
states by right opinion, which is in politics what divination is in
religion ; for diviners and also prophets say many things truly, but they
know not what they say.
Men. So I
believe.
Soc. And may we not,
Meno, truly call those men “divine” who, having no understanding, yet succeed in
many a grand deed and word ?
Men.
Certainly.
Soc. Then we shall also
be right in calling divine those whom we were just now speaking of as diviners
and prophets, including the whole tribe of poets. Yes, and statesmen above all
may be said to be divine and illumined, being inspired and possessed of God, in
which condition they say many grand things, not knowing what they
say.
Men.
Yes.
Soc. And the women too,
Meno, call good men divine — do they not ? and the Spartans, when they
praise a good man, say “that he is a divine man.”
Men. And I think,
Socrates, that they are right ; although very likely our friend Anytus may
take offence at the word.
Soc. I do not
care ; as for Anytus, there will be another opportunity of talking with
him. To sum up our enquiry — the result seems to be, if we are at all right in
our view, that virtue is neither natural nor acquired, but an instinct given by
God to the virtuous. Nor is the instinct accompanied by reason, unless there may
be supposed to be among statesmen some one who is capable of educating
statesmen. And if there be such an one, he may be said to be among the
living what Homer says that Tiresias was among the dead, “he alone has
understanding ; but the rest are flitting shades” ; and he and his
virtue in like manner will be a reality among shadows.
Men. That is excellent,
Socrates.
Soc. Then, Meno, the
conclusion is that virtue comes to the virtuous by the gift of God. But we shall
never know the certain truth until, before asking how virtue is given, we
enquire into the actual nature of virtue. I fear that I must go away, but do
you, now that you are persuaded yourself, persuade our friend Anytus. And do not
let him be so exasperated ; if you can conciliate him, you will have done
good service to the Athenian people.