The Project Gutenberg eBook of Meno

This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the
Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online at
www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have
to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this
eBook.

Title: Meno

Author: Plato

Translator: Benjamin Jowett

Release date: February 1, 1999 [eBook #1643]

Most recently updated: January 16, 2013

Language: English

Credits: Produced by Sue Asscher, and David Widger

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MENO ***

MENO
 by Plato

Translated by Benjamin Jowett

 Contents
INTRODUCTION.
ON THE IDEAS OF
PLATO.

MENO
 INTRODUCTION.
This Dialogue begins abruptly with a question of Meno, who asks,
'whether virtue can be taught.' Socrates replies that he does not as yet know
what virtue is, and has never known anyone who did. 'Then he cannot have
met Gorgias when he was at Athens.' Yes, Socrates had met him, but he has a
bad memory, and has forgotten what Gorgias said. Will Meno tell him his
own notion, which is probably not very different from that of Gorgias? 'O yes
—nothing easier: there is the virtue of a man, of a woman, of an old man, and
of a child; there is a virtue of every age and state of life, all of which may be
easily described.'
Socrates reminds Meno that this is only an enumeration of the virtues and
not a definition of the notion which is common to them all. In a second
attempt Meno defines virtue to be 'the power of command.' But to this, again,
exceptions are taken. For there must be a virtue of those who obey, as well as
of those who command; and the power of command must be justly or not
unjustly exercised. Meno is very ready to admit that justice is virtue: 'Would
you say virtue or a virtue, for there are other virtues, such as courage,
temperance, and the like; just as round is a figure, and black and white are
colours, and yet there are other figures and other colours. Let Meno take the
examples of figure and colour, and try to define them.' Meno confesses his
inability, and after a process of interrogation, in which Socrates explains to
him the nature of a 'simile in multis,' Socrates himself defines figure as 'the
accompaniment of colour.' But some one may object that he does not know
the meaning of the word 'colour;' and if he is a candid friend, and not a mere
disputant, Socrates is willing to furnish him with a simpler and more
philosophical definition, into which no disputed word is allowed to intrude:
'Figure is the limit of form.' Meno imperiously insists that he must still have a
definition of colour. Some raillery follows; and at length Socrates is induced
to reply, 'that colour is the effluence of form, sensible, and in due proportion
to the sight.' This definition is exactly suited to the taste of Meno, who
welcomes the familiar language of Gorgias and Empedocles. Socrates is of
opinion that the more abstract or dialectical definition of figure is far better.
 Now that Meno has been made to understand the nature of a general
definition, he answers in the spirit of a Greek gentleman, and in the words of
a poet, 'that virtue is to delight in things honourable, and to have the power of
getting them.' This is a nearer approximation than he has yet made to a
complete definition, and, regarded as a piece of proverbial or popular
morality, is not far from the truth. But the objection is urged, 'that the
honourable is the good,' and as every one equally desires the good, the point
of the definition is contained in the words, 'the power of getting them.' 'And
they must be got justly or with justice.' The definition will then stand thus:
'Virtue is the power of getting good with justice.' But justice is a part of
virtue, and therefore virtue is the getting of good with a part of virtue. The
definition repeats the word defined.
Meno complains that the conversation of Socrates has the effect of a
torpedo's shock upon him. When he talks with other persons he has plenty to
say about virtue; in the presence of Socrates, his thoughts desert him.
Socrates replies that he is only the cause of perplexity in others, because he
is himself perplexed. He proposes to continue the enquiry. But how, asks
Meno, can he enquire either into what he knows or into what he does not
know? This is a sophistical puzzle, which, as Socrates remarks, saves a great
deal of trouble to him who accepts it. But the puzzle has a real difficulty
latent under it, to which Socrates will endeavour to find a reply. The
difficulty is the origin of knowledge:—
He has heard from priests and priestesses, and from the poet Pindar, of an
immortal soul which is born again and again in successive periods of
existence, returning into this world when she has paid the penalty of ancient
crime, and, having wandered over all places of the upper and under world,
and seen and known all things at one time or other, is by association out of
one thing capable of recovering all. For nature is of one kindred; and every
soul has a seed or germ which may be developed into all knowledge. The
existence of this latent knowledge is further proved by the interrogation of
one of Meno's slaves, who, in the skilful hands of Socrates, is made to
acknowledge some elementary relations of geometrical figures. The theorem
that the square of the diagonal is double the square of the side—that famous
discovery of primitive mathematics, in honour of which the legendary
Pythagoras is said to have sacrificed a hecatomb—is elicited from him. The
first step in the process of teaching has made him conscious of his own
ignorance. He has had the 'torpedo's shock' given him, and is the better for
the operation. But whence had the uneducated man this knowledge? He had
never learnt geometry in this world; nor was it born with him; he must
therefore have had it when he was not a man. And as he always either was or
was not a man, he must have always had it. (Compare Phaedo.)
After Socrates has given this specimen of the true nature of teaching, the
original question of the teachableness of virtue is renewed. Again he
professes a desire to know 'what virtue is' first. But he is willing to argue the
question, as mathematicians say, under an hypothesis. He will assume that if
virtue is knowledge, then virtue can be taught. (This was the stage of the
argument at which the Protagoras concluded.)
Socrates has no difficulty in showing that virtue is a good, and that goods,
whether of body or mind, must be under the direction of knowledge. Upon the
assumption just made, then, virtue is teachable. But where are the teachers?
There are none to be found. This is extremely discouraging. Virtue is no
sooner discovered to be teachable, than the discovery follows that it is not
taught. Virtue, therefore, is and is not teachable.
In this dilemma an appeal is made to Anytus, a respectable and well-to-do
citizen of the old school, and a family friend of Meno, who happens to be
present. He is asked 'whether Meno shall go to the Sophists and be taught.'
The suggestion throws him into a rage. 'To whom, then, shall Meno go?' asks
Socrates. To any Athenian gentleman—to the great Athenian statesmen of
past times. Socrates replies here, as elsewhere (Laches, Prot.), that
Themistocles, Pericles, and other great men, had sons to whom they would
surely, if they could have done so, have imparted their own political wisdom;
but no one ever heard that these sons of theirs were remarkable for anything
except riding and wrestling and similar accomplishments. Anytus is angry at
the imputation which is cast on his favourite statesmen, and on a class to
which he supposes himself to belong; he breaks off with a significant hint.
The mention of another opportunity of talking with him, and the suggestion
that Meno may do the Athenian people a service by pacifying him, are
evident allusions to the trial of Socrates.
Socrates returns to the consideration of the question 'whether virtue is
teachable,' which was denied on the ground that there are no teachers of it:
(for the Sophists are bad teachers, and the rest of the world do not profess to
teach). But there is another point which we failed to observe, and in which
Gorgias has never instructed Meno, nor Prodicus Socrates. This is the nature
of right opinion. For virtue may be under the guidance of right opinion as
well as of knowledge; and right opinion is for practical purposes as good as
knowledge, but is incapable of being taught, and is also liable, like the
images of Daedalus, to 'walk off,' because not bound by the tie of the cause.
This is the sort of instinct which is possessed by statesmen, who are not wise
or knowing persons, but only inspired or divine. The higher virtue, which is
identical with knowledge, is an ideal only. If the statesman had this
knowledge, and could teach what he knew, he would be like Tiresias in the
world below,—'he alone has wisdom, but the rest flit like shadows.'
This Dialogue is an attempt to answer the question, Can virtue be taught?
No one would either ask or answer such a question in modern times. But in
the age of Socrates it was only by an effort that the mind could rise to a
general notion of virtue as distinct from the particular virtues of courage,
liberality, and the like. And when a hazy conception of this ideal was
attained, it was only by a further effort that the question of the teachableness
of virtue could be resolved.
The answer which is given by Plato is paradoxical enough, and seems
rather intended to stimulate than to satisfy enquiry. Virtue is knowledge, and
therefore virtue can be taught. But virtue is not taught, and therefore in this
higher and ideal sense there is no virtue and no knowledge. The teaching of
the Sophists is confessedly inadequate, and Meno, who is their pupil, is
ignorant of the very nature of general terms. He can only produce out of their
armoury the sophism, 'that you can neither enquire into what you know nor
into what you do not know;' to which Socrates replies by his theory of
reminiscence.
To the doctrine that virtue is knowledge, Plato has been constantly tending
in the previous Dialogues. But the new truth is no sooner found than it
vanishes away. 'If there is knowledge, there must be teachers; and where are
the teachers?' There is no knowledge in the higher sense of systematic,
connected, reasoned knowledge, such as may one day be attained, and such
as Plato himself seems to see in some far off vision of a single science. And
there are no teachers in the higher sense of the word; that is to say, no real
teachers who will arouse the spirit of enquiry in their pupils, and not merely
instruct them in rhetoric or impart to them ready-made information for a fee
of 'one' or of 'fifty drachms.' Plato is desirous of deepening the notion of
education, and therefore he asserts the paradox that there are no educators.
This paradox, though different in form, is not really different from the remark
which is often made in modern times by those who would depreciate either
the methods of education commonly employed, or the standard attained—that
'there is no true education among us.'
There remains still a possibility which must not be overlooked. Even if
there be no true knowledge, as is proved by 'the wretched state of education,'
there may be right opinion, which is a sort of guessing or divination resting
on no knowledge of causes, and incommunicable to others. This is the gift
which our statesmen have, as is proved by the circumstance that they are
unable to impart their knowledge to their sons. Those who are possessed of it
cannot be said to be men of science or philosophers, but they are inspired
and divine.
There may be some trace of irony in this curious passage, which forms the
concluding portion of the Dialogue. But Plato certainly does not mean to
intimate that the supernatural or divine is the true basis of human life. To him
knowledge, if only attainable in this world, is of all things the most divine.
Yet, like other philosophers, he is willing to admit that 'probability is the
guide of life (Butler's Analogy.);' and he is at the same time desirous of
contrasting the wisdom which governs the world with a higher wisdom.
There are many instincts, judgments, and anticipations of the human mind
which cannot be reduced to rule, and of which the grounds cannot always be
given in words. A person may have some skill or latent experience which he
is able to use himself and is yet unable to teach others, because he has no
principles, and is incapable of collecting or arranging his ideas. He has
practice, but not theory; art, but not science. This is a true fact of psychology,
which is recognized by Plato in this passage. But he is far from saying, as
some have imagined, that inspiration or divine grace is to be regarded as
higher than knowledge. He would not have preferred the poet or man of
action to the philosopher, or the virtue of custom to the virtue based upon
ideas.
Also here, as in the Ion and Phaedrus, Plato appears to acknowledge an
unreasoning element in the higher nature of man. The philosopher only has
knowledge, and yet the statesman and the poet are inspired. There may be a
sort of irony in regarding in this way the gifts of genius. But there is no
reason to suppose that he is deriding them, any more than he is deriding the
phenomena of love or of enthusiasm in the Symposium, or of oracles in the
Apology, or of divine intimations when he is speaking of the daemonium of
Socrates. He recognizes the lower form of right opinion, as well as the
higher one of science, in the spirit of one who desires to include in his
philosophy every aspect of human life; just as he recognizes the existence of
popular opinion as a fact, and the Sophists as the expression of it.
This Dialogue contains the first intimation of the doctrine of reminiscence
and of the immortality of the soul. The proof is very slight, even slighter than
in the Phaedo and Republic. Because men had abstract ideas in a previous
state, they must have always had them, and their souls therefore must have
always existed. For they must always have been either men or not men. The
fallacy of the latter words is transparent. And Socrates himself appears to be
conscious of their weakness; for he adds immediately afterwards, 'I have
said some things of which I am not altogether confident.' (Compare Phaedo.)
It may be observed, however, that the fanciful notion of pre-existence is
combined with a true but partial view of the origin and unity of knowledge,
and of the association of ideas. Knowledge is prior to any particular
knowledge, and exists not in the previous state of the individual, but of the
race. It is potential, not actual, and can only be appropriated by strenuous
exertion.
The idealism of Plato is here presented in a less developed form than in
the Phaedo and Phaedrus. Nothing is said of the pre-existence of ideas of
justice, temperance, and the like. Nor is Socrates positive of anything but the
duty of enquiry. The doctrine of reminiscence too is explained more in
accordance with fact and experience as arising out of the affinities of nature
(ate tes thuseos oles suggenous ouses). Modern philosophy says that all
things in nature are dependent on one another; the ancient philosopher had the
same truth latent in his mind when he affirmed that out of one thing all the rest
may be recovered. The subjective was converted by him into an objective;
the mental phenomenon of the association of ideas (compare Phaedo) became
a real chain of existences. The germs of two valuable principles of education
may also be gathered from the 'words of priests and priestesses:' (1) that true
knowledge is a knowledge of causes (compare Aristotle's theory of
episteme); and (2) that the process of learning consists not in what is brought
to the learner, but in what is drawn out of him.
Some lesser points of the dialogue may be noted, such as (1) the acute
observation that Meno prefers the familiar definition, which is embellished
with poetical language, to the better and truer one; or (2) the shrewd
reflection, which may admit of an application to modern as well as to ancient
teachers, that the Sophists having made large fortunes; this must surely be a
criterion of their powers of teaching, for that no man could get a living by
shoemaking who was not a good shoemaker; or (3) the remark conveyed,
almost in a word, that the verbal sceptic is saved the labour of thought and
enquiry (ouden dei to toiouto zeteseos). Characteristic also of the temper of
the Socratic enquiry is, (4) the proposal to discuss the teachableness of
virtue under an hypothesis, after the manner of the mathematicians; and (5)
the repetition of the favourite doctrine which occurs so frequently in the
earlier and more Socratic Dialogues, and gives a colour to all of them—that
mankind only desire evil through ignorance; (6) the experiment of eliciting
from the slave-boy the mathematical truth which is latent in him, and (7) the
remark that he is all the better for knowing his ignorance.
The character of Meno, like that of Critias, has no relation to the actual
circumstances of his life. Plato is silent about his treachery to the ten
thousand Greeks, which Xenophon has recorded, as he is also silent about
the crimes of Critias. He is a Thessalian Alcibiades, rich and luxurious—a
spoilt child of fortune, and is described as the hereditary friend of the great
king. Like Alcibiades he is inspired with an ardent desire of knowledge, and
is equally willing to learn of Socrates and of the Sophists. He may be
regarded as standing in the same relation to Gorgias as Hippocrates in the
Protagoras to the other great Sophist. He is the sophisticated youth on whom
Socrates tries his cross-examining powers, just as in the Charmides, the
Lysis, and the Euthydemus, ingenuous boyhood is made the subject of a
similar experiment. He is treated by Socrates in a half-playful manner suited
to his character; at the same time he appears not quite to understand the
process to which he is being subjected. For he is exhibited as ignorant of the
very elements of dialectics, in which the Sophists have failed to instruct their
disciple. His definition of virtue as 'the power and desire of attaining things
honourable,' like the first definition of justice in the Republic, is taken from a
poet. His answers have a sophistical ring, and at the same time show the
sophistical incapacity to grasp a general notion.
Anytus is the type of the narrow-minded man of the world, who is
indignant at innovation, and equally detests the popular teacher and the true
philosopher. He seems, like Aristophanes, to regard the new opinions,
whether of Socrates or the Sophists, as fatal to Athenian greatness. He is of
the same class as Callicles in the Gorgias, but of a different variety; the
immoral and sophistical doctrines of Callicles are not attributed to him. The
moderation with which he is described is remarkable, if he be the accuser of
Socrates, as is apparently indicated by his parting words. Perhaps Plato may
have been desirous of showing that the accusation of Socrates was not to be
attributed to badness or malevolence, but rather to a tendency in men's minds.
Or he may have been regardless of the historical truth of the characters of his
dialogue, as in the case of Meno and Critias. Like Chaerephon (Apol.) the
real Anytus was a democrat, and had joined Thrasybulus in the conflict with
the thirty.
The Protagoras arrived at a sort of hypothetical conclusion, that if 'virtue
is knowledge, it can be taught.' In the Euthydemus, Socrates himself offered
an example of the manner in which the true teacher may draw out the mind of
youth; this was in contrast to the quibbling follies of the Sophists. In the
Meno the subject is more developed; the foundations of the enquiry are laid
deeper, and the nature of knowledge is more distinctly explained. There is a
progression by antagonism of two opposite aspects of philosophy. But at the
moment when we approach nearest, the truth doubles upon us and passes out
of our reach. We seem to find that the ideal of knowledge is irreconcilable
with experience. In human life there is indeed the profession of knowledge,
but right opinion is our actual guide. There is another sort of progress from
the general notions of Socrates, who asked simply, 'what is friendship?' 'what
is temperance?' 'what is courage?' as in the Lysis, Charmides, Laches, to the
transcendentalism of Plato, who, in the second stage of his philosophy, sought
to find the nature of knowledge in a prior and future state of existence.
The difficulty in framing general notions which has appeared in this and in
all the previous Dialogues recurs in the Gorgias and Theaetetus as well as in
the Republic. In the Gorgias too the statesmen reappear, but in stronger
opposition to the philosopher. They are no longer allowed to have a divine
insight, but, though acknowledged to have been clever men and good
speakers, are denounced as 'blind leaders of the blind.' The doctrine of the
immortality of the soul is also carried further, being made the foundation not
only of a theory of knowledge, but of a doctrine of rewards and punishments.
In the Republic the relation of knowledge to virtue is described in a manner
more consistent with modern distinctions. The existence of the virtues
without the possession of knowledge in the higher or philosophical sense is
admitted to be possible. Right opinion is again introduced in the Theaetetus
as an account of knowledge, but is rejected on the ground that it is irrational
(as here, because it is not bound by the tie of the cause), and also because the
conception of false opinion is given up as hopeless. The doctrines of Plato
are necessarily different at different times of his life, as new distinctions are
realized, or new stages of thought attained by him. We are not therefore
justified, in order to take away the appearance of inconsistency, in attributing
to him hidden meanings or remote allusions.
There are no external criteria by which we can determine the date of the
Meno. There is no reason to suppose that any of the Dialogues of Plato were
written before the death of Socrates; the Meno, which appears to be one of
the earliest of them, is proved to have been of a later date by the allusion of
Anytus.
We cannot argue that Plato was more likely to have written, as he has
done, of Meno before than after his miserable death; for we have already
seen, in the examples of Charmides and Critias, that the characters in Plato
are very far from resembling the same characters in history. The repulsive
picture which is given of him in the Anabasis of Xenophon, where he also
appears as the friend of Aristippus 'and a fair youth having lovers,' has no
other trait of likeness to the Meno of Plato.
The place of the Meno in the series is doubtfully indicated by internal
evidence. The main character of the Dialogue is Socrates; but to the 'general
definitions' of Socrates is added the Platonic doctrine of reminiscence. The
problems of virtue and knowledge have been discussed in the Lysis, Laches,
Charmides, and Protagoras; the puzzle about knowing and learning has
already appeared in the Euthydemus. The doctrines of immortality and pre-
existence are carried further in the Phaedrus and Phaedo; the distinction
between opinion and knowledge is more fully developed in the Theaetetus.
The lessons of Prodicus, whom he facetiously calls his master, are still
running in the mind of Socrates. Unlike the later Platonic Dialogues, the
Meno arrives at no conclusion. Hence we are led to place the Dialogue at
some point of time later than the Protagoras, and earlier than the Phaedrus
and Gorgias. The place which is assigned to it in this work is due mainly to
the desire to bring together in a single volume all the Dialogues which
contain allusions to the trial and death of Socrates.
 ON THE IDEAS OF PLATO.
Plato's doctrine of ideas has attained an imaginary clearness and
definiteness which is not to be found in his own writings. The popular
account of them is partly derived from one or two passages in his Dialogues
interpreted without regard to their poetical environment. It is due also to the
misunderstanding of him by the Aristotelian school; and the erroneous notion
has been further narrowed and has become fixed by the realism of the
schoolmen. This popular view of the Platonic ideas may be summed up in
some such formula as the following: 'Truth consists not in particulars, but in
universals, which have a place in the mind of God, or in some far-off heaven.
These were revealed to men in a former state of existence, and are recovered
by reminiscence (anamnesis) or association from sensible things. The
sensible things are not realities, but shadows only, in relation to the truth.'
These unmeaning propositions are hardly suspected to be a caricature of a
great theory of knowledge, which Plato in various ways and under many
figures of speech is seeking to unfold. Poetry has been converted into dogma;
and it is not remarked that the Platonic ideas are to be found only in about a
third of Plato's writings and are not confined to him. The forms which they
assume are numerous, and if taken literally, inconsistent with one another. At
one time we are in the clouds of mythology, at another among the abstractions
of mathematics or metaphysics; we pass imperceptibly from one to the other.
Reason and fancy are mingled in the same passage. The ideas are sometimes
described as many, coextensive with the universals of sense and also with the
first principles of ethics; or again they are absorbed into the single idea of
good, and subordinated to it. They are not more certain than facts, but they
are equally certain (Phaedo). They are both personal and impersonal. They
are abstract terms: they are also the causes of things; and they are even
transformed into the demons or spirits by whose help God made the world.
And the idea of good (Republic) may without violence be converted into the
Supreme Being, who 'because He was good' created all things (Tim.).
It would be a mistake to try and reconcile these differing modes of thought.
They are not to be regarded seriously as having a distinct meaning. They are
parables, prophecies, myths, symbols, revelations, aspirations after an
unknown world. They derive their origin from a deep religious and
contemplative feeling, and also from an observation of curious mental
phenomena. They gather up the elements of the previous philosophies, which
they put together in a new form. Their great diversity shows the tentative
character of early endeavours to think. They have not yet settled down into a
single system. Plato uses them, though he also criticises them; he
acknowledges that both he and others are always talking about them,
especially about the Idea of Good; and that they are not peculiar to himself
(Phaedo; Republic; Soph.). But in his later writings he seems to have laid
aside the old forms of them. As he proceeds he makes for himself new modes
of expression more akin to the Aristotelian logic.
Yet amid all these varieties and incongruities, there is a common meaning
or spirit which pervades his writings, both those in which he treats of the
ideas and those in which he is silent about them. This is the spirit of
idealism, which in the history of philosophy has had many names and taken
many forms, and has in a measure influenced those who seemed to be most
averse to it. It has often been charged with inconsistency and fancifulness,
and yet has had an elevating effect on human nature, and has exercised a
wonderful charm and interest over a few spirits who have been lost in the
thought of it. It has been banished again and again, but has always returned. It
has attempted to leave the earth and soar heavenwards, but soon has found
that only in experience could any solid foundation of knowledge be laid. It
has degenerated into pantheism, but has again emerged. No other knowledge
has given an equal stimulus to the mind. It is the science of sciences, which
are also ideas, and under either aspect require to be defined. They can only
be thought of in due proportion when conceived in relation to one another.
They are the glasses through which the kingdoms of science are seen, but at a
distance. All the greatest minds, except when living in an age of reaction
against them, have unconsciously fallen under their power.
The account of the Platonic ideas in the Meno is the simplest and clearest,
and we shall best illustrate their nature by giving this first and then
comparing the manner in which they are described elsewhere, e.g. in the
Phaedrus, Phaedo, Republic; to which may be added the criticism of them in
the Parmenides, the personal form which is attributed to them in the Timaeus,
the logical character which they assume in the Sophist and Philebus, and the
allusion to them in the Laws. In the Cratylus they dawn upon him with the
freshness of a newly-discovered thought.
 The Meno goes back to a former state of existence, in which men did and
suffered good and evil, and received the reward or punishment of them until
their sin was purged away and they were allowed to return to earth. This is a
tradition of the olden time, to which priests and poets bear witness. The
souls of men returning to earth bring back a latent memory of ideas, which
were known to them in a former state. The recollection is awakened into life
and consciousness by the sight of the things which resemble them on earth.
The soul evidently possesses such innate ideas before she has had time to
acquire them. This is proved by an experiment tried on one of Meno's slaves,
from whom Socrates elicits truths of arithmetic and geometry, which he had
never learned in this world. He must therefore have brought them with him
from another.
The notion of a previous state of existence is found in the verses of
Empedocles and in the fragments of Heracleitus. It was the natural answer to
two questions, 'Whence came the soul? What is the origin of evil?' and
prevailed far and wide in the east. It found its way into Hellas probably
through the medium of Orphic and Pythagorean rites and mysteries. It was
easier to think of a former than of a future life, because such a life has really
existed for the race though not for the individual, and all men come into the
world, if not 'trailing clouds of glory,' at any rate able to enter into the
inheritance of the past. In the Phaedrus, as well as in the Meno, it is this
former rather than a future life on which Plato is disposed to dwell. There the
Gods, and men following in their train, go forth to contemplate the heavens,
and are borne round in the revolutions of them. There they see the divine
forms of justice, temperance, and the like, in their unchangeable beauty, but
not without an effort more than human. The soul of man is likened to a
charioteer and two steeds, one mortal, the other immortal. The charioteer and
the mortal steed are in fierce conflict; at length the animal principle is finally
overpowered, though not extinguished, by the combined energies of the
passionate and rational elements. This is one of those passages in Plato
which, partaking both of a philosophical and poetical character, is
necessarily indistinct and inconsistent. The magnificent figure under which
the nature of the soul is described has not much to do with the popular
doctrine of the ideas. Yet there is one little trait in the description which
shows that they are present to Plato's mind, namely, the remark that the soul,
which had seen truths in the form of the universal, cannot again return to the
nature of an animal.
 In the Phaedo, as in the Meno, the origin of ideas is sought for in a
previous state of existence. There was no time when they could have been
acquired in this life, and therefore they must have been recovered from
another. The process of recovery is no other than the ordinary law of
association, by which in daily life the sight of one thing or person recalls
another to our minds, and by which in scientific enquiry from any part of
knowledge we may be led on to infer the whole. It is also argued that ideas,
or rather ideals, must be derived from a previous state of existence because
they are more perfect than the sensible forms of them which are given by
experience. But in the Phaedo the doctrine of ideas is subordinate to the
proof of the immortality of the soul. 'If the soul existed in a previous state,
then it will exist in a future state, for a law of alternation pervades all things.'
And, 'If the ideas exist, then the soul exists; if not, not.' It is to be observed,
both in the Meno and the Phaedo, that Socrates expresses himself with
diffidence. He speaks in the Phaedo of the words with which he has
comforted himself and his friends, and will not be too confident that the
description which he has given of the soul and her mansions is exactly true,
but he 'ventures to think that something of the kind is true.' And in the Meno,
after dwelling upon the immortality of the soul, he adds, 'Of some things
which I have said I am not altogether confident' (compare Apology; Gorgias).
From this class of uncertainties he exempts the difference between truth and
appearance, of which he is absolutely convinced.
In the Republic the ideas are spoken of in two ways, which though not
contradictory are different. In the tenth book they are represented as the
genera or general ideas under which individuals having a common name are
contained. For example, there is the bed which the carpenter makes, the
picture of the bed which is drawn by the painter, the bed existing in nature of
which God is the author. Of the latter all visible beds are only the shadows
or reflections. This and similar illustrations or explanations are put forth, not
for their own sake, or as an exposition of Plato's theory of ideas, but with a
view of showing that poetry and the mimetic arts are concerned with an
inferior part of the soul and a lower kind of knowledge. On the other hand, in
the 6th and 7th books of the Republic we reach the highest and most perfect
conception, which Plato is able to attain, of the nature of knowledge. The
ideas are now finally seen to be one as well as many, causes as well as
ideas, and to have a unity which is the idea of good and the cause of all the
rest. They seem, however, to have lost their first aspect of universals under
which individuals are contained, and to have been converted into forms of
another kind, which are inconsistently regarded from the one side as images
or ideals of justice, temperance, holiness and the like; from the other as
hypotheses, or mathematical truths or principles.
In the Timaeus, which in the series of Plato's works immediately follows
the Republic, though probably written some time afterwards, no mention
occurs of the doctrine of ideas. Geometrical forms and arithmetical ratios
furnish the laws according to which the world is created. But though the
conception of the ideas as genera or species is forgotten or laid aside, the
distinction of the visible and intellectual is as firmly maintained as ever. The
IDEA of good likewise disappears and is superseded by the conception of a
personal God, who works according to a final cause or principle of goodness
which he himself is. No doubt is expressed by Plato, either in the Timaeus or
in any other dialogue, of the truths which he conceives to be the first and
highest. It is not the existence of God or the idea of good which he
approaches in a tentative or hesitating manner, but the investigations of
physiology. These he regards, not seriously, as a part of philosophy, but as an
innocent recreation (Tim.).
Passing on to the Parmenides, we find in that dialogue not an exposition or
defence of the doctrine of ideas, but an assault upon them, which is put into
the mouth of the veteran Parmenides, and might be ascribed to Aristotle
himself, or to one of his disciples. The doctrine which is assailed takes two
or three forms, but fails in any of them to escape the dialectical difficulties
which are urged against it. It is admitted that there are ideas of all things, but
the manner in which individuals partake of them, whether of the whole or of
the part, and in which they become like them, or how ideas can be either
within or without the sphere of human knowledge, or how the human and
divine can have any relation to each other, is held to be incapable of
explanation. And yet, if there are no universal ideas, what becomes of
philosophy? (Parmenides.) In the Sophist the theory of ideas is spoken of as a
doctrine held not by Plato, but by another sect of philosophers, called 'the
Friends of Ideas,' probably the Megarians, who were very distinct from him,
if not opposed to him (Sophist). Nor in what may be termed Plato's
abridgement of the history of philosophy (Soph.), is any mention made such
as we find in the first book of Aristotle's Metaphysics, of the derivation of
such a theory or of any part of it from the Pythagoreans, the Eleatics, the
Heracleiteans, or even from Socrates. In the Philebus, probably one of the
latest of the Platonic Dialogues, the conception of a personal or semi-
personal deity expressed under the figure of mind, the king of all, who is also
the cause, is retained. The one and many of the Phaedrus and Theaetetus is
still working in the mind of Plato, and the correlation of ideas, not of 'all
with all,' but of 'some with some,' is asserted and explained. But they are
spoken of in a different manner, and are not supposed to be recovered from a
former state of existence. The metaphysical conception of truth passes into a
psychological one, which is continued in the Laws, and is the final form of
the Platonic philosophy, so far as can be gathered from his own writings (see
especially Laws). In the Laws he harps once more on the old string, and
returns to general notions:—these he acknowledges to be many, and yet he
insists that they are also one. The guardian must be made to recognize the
truth, for which he has contended long ago in the Protagoras, that the virtues
are four, but they are also in some sense one (Laws; compare Protagoras).
So various, and if regarded on the surface only, inconsistent, are the
statements of Plato respecting the doctrine of ideas. If we attempted to
harmonize or to combine them, we should make out of them, not a system, but
the caricature of a system. They are the ever-varying expression of Plato's
Idealism. The terms used in them are in their substance and general meaning
the same, although they seem to be different. They pass from the subject to the
object, from earth (diesseits) to heaven (jenseits) without regard to the gulf
which later theology and philosophy have made between them. They are also
intended to supplement or explain each other. They relate to a subject of
which Plato himself would have said that 'he was not confident of the precise
form of his own statements, but was strong in the belief that something of the
kind was true.' It is the spirit, not the letter, in which they agree—the spirit
which places the divine above the human, the spiritual above the material,
the one above the many, the mind before the body.
The stream of ancient philosophy in the Alexandrian and Roman times
widens into a lake or sea, and then disappears underground to reappear after
many ages in a distant land. It begins to flow again under new conditions, at
first confined between high and narrow banks, but finally spreading over the
continent of Europe. It is and is not the same with ancient philosophy. There
is a great deal in modern philosophy which is inspired by ancient. There is
much in ancient philosophy which was 'born out of due time; and before men
were capable of understanding it. To the fathers of modern philosophy, their
own thoughts appeared to be new and original, but they carried with them an
echo or shadow of the past, coming back by recollection from an elder
world. Of this the enquirers of the seventeenth century, who to themselves
appeared to be working out independently the enquiry into all truth, were
unconscious. They stood in a new relation to theology and natural
philosophy, and for a time maintained towards both an attitude of reserve and
separation. Yet the similarities between modern and ancient thought are
greater far than the differences. All philosophy, even that part of it which is
said to be based upon experience, is really ideal; and ideas are not only
derived from facts, but they are also prior to them and extend far beyond
them, just as the mind is prior to the senses.
Early Greek speculation culminates in the ideas of Plato, or rather in the
single idea of good. His followers, and perhaps he himself, having arrived at
this elevation, instead of going forwards went backwards from philosophy to
psychology, from ideas to numbers. But what we perceive to be the real
meaning of them, an explanation of the nature and origin of knowledge, will
always continue to be one of the first problems of philosophy.
Plato also left behind him a most potent instrument, the forms of logic—
arms ready for use, but not yet taken out of their armoury. They were the late
birth of the early Greek philosophy, and were the only part of it which has
had an uninterrupted hold on the mind of Europe. Philosophies come and go;
but the detection of fallacies, the framing of definitions, the invention of
methods still continue to be the main elements of the reasoning process.
Modern philosophy, like ancient, begins with very simple conceptions. It
is almost wholly a reflection on self. It might be described as a quickening
into life of old words and notions latent in the semi-barbarous Latin, and
putting a new meaning into them. Unlike ancient philosophy, it has been
unaffected by impressions derived from outward nature: it arose within the
limits of the mind itself. From the time of Descartes to Hume and Kant it has
had little or nothing to do with facts of science. On the other hand, the ancient
and mediaeval logic retained a continuous influence over it, and a form like
that of mathematics was easily impressed upon it; the principle of ancient
philosophy which is most apparent in it is scepticism; we must doubt nearly
every traditional or received notion, that we may hold fast one or two. The
being of God in a personal or impersonal form was a mental necessity to the
first thinkers of modern times: from this alone all other ideas could be
deduced. There had been an obscure presentiment of 'cognito, ergo sum' more
than 2000 years previously. The Eleatic notion that being and thought were
the same was revived in a new form by Descartes. But now it gave birth to
consciousness and self-reflection: it awakened the 'ego' in human nature. The
mind naked and abstract has no other certainty but the conviction of its own
existence. 'I think, therefore I am;' and this thought is God thinking in me, who
has also communicated to the reason of man his own attributes of thought and
extension—these are truly imparted to him because God is true (compare
Republic). It has been often remarked that Descartes, having begun by
dismissing all presuppositions, introduces several: he passes almost at once
from scepticism to dogmatism. It is more important for the illustration of
Plato to observe that he, like Plato, insists that God is true and incapable of
deception (Republic)—that he proceeds from general ideas, that many
elements of mathematics may be found in him. A certain influence of
mathematics both on the form and substance of their philosophy is
discernible in both of them. After making the greatest opposition between
thought and extension, Descartes, like Plato, supposes them to be reunited for
a time, not in their own nature but by a special divine act (compare
Phaedrus), and he also supposes all the parts of the human body to meet in
the pineal gland, that alone affording a principle of unity in the material
frame of man. It is characteristic of the first period of modern philosophy,
that having begun (like the Presocratics) with a few general notions,
Descartes first falls absolutely under their influence, and then quickly
discards them. At the same time he is less able to observe facts, because they
are too much magnified by the glasses through which they are seen. The
common logic says 'the greater the extension, the less the comprehension,'
and we may put the same thought in another way and say of abstract or
general ideas, that the greater the abstraction of them, the less are they
capable of being applied to particular and concrete natures.
Not very different from Descartes in his relation to ancient philosophy is
his successor Spinoza, who lived in the following generation. The system of
Spinoza is less personal and also less dualistic than that of Descartes. In this
respect the difference between them is like that between Xenophanes and
Parmenides. The teaching of Spinoza might be described generally as the
Jewish religion reduced to an abstraction and taking the form of the Eleatic
philosophy. Like Parmenides, he is overpowered and intoxicated with the
idea of Being or God. The greatness of both philosophies consists in the
immensity of a thought which excludes all other thoughts; their weakness is
the necessary separation of this thought from actual existence and from
practical life. In neither of them is there any clear opposition between the
inward and outward world. The substance of Spinoza has two attributes,
which alone are cognizable by man, thought and extension; these are in
extreme opposition to one another, and also in inseparable identity. They may
be regarded as the two aspects or expressions under which God or substance
is unfolded to man. Here a step is made beyond the limits of the Eleatic
philosophy. The famous theorem of Spinoza, 'Omnis determinatio est
negatio,' is already contained in the 'negation is relation' of Plato's Sophist.
The grand description of the philosopher in Republic VI, as the spectator of
all time and all existence, may be paralleled with another famous expression
of Spinoza, 'Contemplatio rerum sub specie eternitatis.' According to
Spinoza finite objects are unreal, for they are conditioned by what is alien to
them, and by one another. Human beings are included in the number of them.
Hence there is no reality in human action and no place for right and wrong.
Individuality is accident. The boasted freedom of the will is only a
consciousness of necessity. Truth, he says, is the direction of the reason
towards the infinite, in which all things repose; and herein lies the secret of
man's well-being. In the exaltation of the reason or intellect, in the denial of
the voluntariness of evil (Timaeus; Laws) Spinoza approaches nearer to
Plato than in his conception of an infinite substance. As Socrates said that
virtue is knowledge, so Spinoza would have maintained that knowledge
alone is good, and what contributes to knowledge useful. Both are equally far
from any real experience or observation of nature. And the same difficulty is
found in both when we seek to apply their ideas to life and practice. There is
a gulf fixed between the infinite substance and finite objects or individuals of
Spinoza, just as there is between the ideas of Plato and the world of sense.
Removed from Spinoza by less than a generation is the philosopher
Leibnitz, who after deepening and intensifying the opposition between mind
and matter, reunites them by his preconcerted harmony (compare again
Phaedrus). To him all the particles of matter are living beings which reflect
on one another, and in the least of them the whole is contained. Here we
catch a reminiscence both of the omoiomere, or similar particles of
Anaxagoras, and of the world-animal of the Timaeus.
In Bacon and Locke we have another development in which the mind of
man is supposed to receive knowledge by a new method and to work by
observation and experience. But we may remark that it is the idea of
experience, rather than experience itself, with which the mind is filled. It is a
symbol of knowledge rather than the reality which is vouchsafed to us. The
Organon of Bacon is not much nearer to actual facts than the Organon of
Aristotle or the Platonic idea of good. Many of the old rags and ribbons
which defaced the garment of philosophy have been stripped off, but some of
them still adhere. A crude conception of the ideas of Plato survives in the
'forms' of Bacon. And on the other hand, there are many passages of Plato in
which the importance of the investigation of facts is as much insisted upon as
by Bacon. Both are almost equally superior to the illusions of language, and
are constantly crying out against them, as against other idols.
Locke cannot be truly regarded as the author of sensationalism any more
than of idealism. His system is based upon experience, but with him
experience includes reflection as well as sense. His analysis and
construction of ideas has no foundation in fact; it is only the dialectic of the
mind 'talking to herself.' The philosophy of Berkeley is but the transposition
of two words. For objects of sense he would substitute sensations. He
imagines himself to have changed the relation of the human mind towards
God and nature; they remain the same as before, though he has drawn the
imaginary line by which they are divided at a different point. He has
annihilated the outward world, but it instantly reappears governed by the
same laws and described under the same names.
A like remark applies to David Hume, of whose philosophy the central
principle is the denial of the relation of cause and effect. He would deprive
men of a familiar term which they can ill afford to lose; but he seems not to
have observed that this alteration is merely verbal and does not in any degree
affect the nature of things. Still less did he remark that he was arguing from
the necessary imperfection of language against the most certain facts. And
here, again, we may find a parallel with the ancients. He goes beyond facts in
his scepticism, as they did in their idealism. Like the ancient Sophists, he
relegates the more important principles of ethics to custom and probability.
But crude and unmeaning as this philosophy is, it exercised a great influence
on his successors, not unlike that which Locke exercised upon Berkeley and
Berkeley upon Hume himself. All three were both sceptical and ideal in
almost equal degrees. Neither they nor their predecessors had any true
conception of language or of the history of philosophy. Hume's paradox has
been forgotten by the world, and did not any more than the scepticism of the
ancients require to be seriously refuted. Like some other philosophical
paradoxes, it would have been better left to die out. It certainly could not be
refuted by a philosophy such as Kant's, in which, no less than in the
previously mentioned systems, the history of the human mind and the nature
of language are almost wholly ignored, and the certainty of objective
knowledge is transferred to the subject; while absolute truth is reduced to a
figment, more abstract and narrow than Plato's ideas, of 'thing in itself,' to
which, if we reason strictly, no predicate can be applied.
The question which Plato has raised respecting the origin and nature of
ideas belongs to the infancy of philosophy; in modern times it would no
longer be asked. Their origin is only their history, so far as we know it; there
can be no other. We may trace them in language, in philosophy, in mythology,
in poetry, but we cannot argue a priori about them. We may attempt to shake
them off, but they are always returning, and in every sphere of science and
human action are tending to go beyond facts. They are thought to be innate,
because they have been familiar to us all our lives, and we can no longer
dismiss them from our mind. Many of them express relations of terms to
which nothing exactly or nothing at all in rerum natura corresponds. We are
not such free agents in the use of them as we sometimes imagine. Fixed ideas
have taken the most complete possession of some thinkers who have been
most determined to renounce them, and have been vehemently affirmed when
they could be least explained and were incapable of proof. The world has
often been led away by a word to which no distinct meaning could be
attached. Abstractions such as 'authority,' 'equality,' 'utility,' 'liberty,'
'pleasure,' 'experience,' 'consciousness,' 'chance,' 'substance,' 'matter,' 'atom,'
and a heap of other metaphysical and theological terms, are the source of
quite as much error and illusion and have as little relation to actual facts as
the ideas of Plato. Few students of theology or philosophy have sufficiently
reflected how quickly the bloom of a philosophy passes away; or how hard it
is for one age to understand the writings of another; or how nice a judgment
is required of those who are seeking to express the philosophy of one age in
the terms of another. The 'eternal truths' of which metaphysicians speak have
hardly ever lasted more than a generation. In our own day schools or systems
of philosophy which have once been famous have died before the founders of
them. We are still, as in Plato's age, groping about for a new method more
comprehensive than any of those which now prevail; and also more
permanent. And we seem to see at a distance the promise of such a method,
which can hardly be any other than the method of idealized experience,
having roots which strike far down into the history of philosophy. It is a
method which does not divorce the present from the past, or the part from the
whole, or the abstract from the concrete, or theory from fact, or the divine
from the human, or one science from another, but labours to connect them.
Along such a road we have proceeded a few steps, sufficient, perhaps, to
make us reflect on the want of method which prevails in our own day. In
another age, all the branches of knowledge, whether relating to God or man
or nature, will become the knowledge of 'the revelation of a single science'
(Symp.), and all things, like the stars in heaven, will shed their light upon one
another.
 MENO
PERSONS OF THE DIALOGUE: Meno, Socrates, A Slave of Meno
(Boy), Anytus.
MENO: Can you tell me, Socrates, whether virtue is acquired by teaching
or by practice; or if neither by teaching nor by 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?
MENO: 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?
SOCRATES: 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.
 MENO: Then you have never met Gorgias when he was at Athens?
SOCRATES: Yes, I have.
MENO: And did you not think that he knew?
SOCRATES: 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.
MENO: Very true.
SOCRATES: 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.
MENO: 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 (Compare Arist. Pol.).
SOCRATES: How fortunate I am, Meno! When I ask you for one virtue,
you present me with a swarm of them (Compare Theaet.), 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?
MENO: I should answer that bees do not differ from one another, as bees.
SOCRATES: 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?
MENO: I should.
SOCRATES: 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?
MENO: I am beginning to understand; but I do not as yet take hold of the
question as I could wish.
SOCRATES: 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?
MENO: I should say that health is the same, both in man and woman.
SOCRATES: 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?
MENO: I think not.
SOCRATES: 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?
MENO: I cannot help feeling, Socrates, that this case is different from the
others.
SOCRATES: 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?
MENO: I did say so.
SOCRATES: And can either house or state or anything be well ordered
without temperance and without justice?
MENO: Certainly not.
SOCRATES: Then they who order a state or a house temperately or justly
order them with temperance and justice?
MENO: Certainly.
SOCRATES: Then both men and women, if they are to be good men and
women, must have the same virtues of temperance and justice?
 MENO: True.
SOCRATES: And can either a young man or an elder one be good, if they
are intemperate and unjust?
MENO: They cannot.
SOCRATES: They must be temperate and just?
MENO: Yes.
SOCRATES: Then all men are good in the same way, and by participation
in the same virtues?
MENO: Such is the inference.
SOCRATES: And they surely would not have been good in the same way,
unless their virtue had been the same?
MENO: They would not.
SOCRATES: Then now that the sameness of all virtue has been proven, try
and remember what you and Gorgias say that virtue is.
MENO: Will you have one definition of them all?
SOCRATES: That is what I am seeking.
MENO: 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.
SOCRATES: 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?
MENO: I think not, Socrates.
SOCRATES: 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'?
MENO: Yes, Socrates; I agree there; for justice is virtue.
SOCRATES: Would you say 'virtue,' Meno, or 'a virtue'?
MENO: What do you mean?
SOCRATES: 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.
MENO: Quite right; and that is just what I am saying about virtue—that
there are other virtues as well as justice.
 SOCRATES: What are they? tell me the names of them, as I would tell you
the names of the other figures if you asked me.
MENO: Courage and temperance and wisdom and magnanimity are
virtues; and there are many others.
SOCRATES: 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.
MENO: 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.
SOCRATES: 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.'
MENO: Certainly.
SOCRATES: And for this reason—that there are other figures?
MENO: Yes.
SOCRATES: And if he proceeded to ask, What other figures are there?
you would have told him.
MENO: I should.
SOCRATES: 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.
MENO: I should.
SOCRATES: 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.
MENO: Yes.
SOCRATES: 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?
MENO: Yes.
SOCRATES: 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?
MENO: Certainly not.
SOCRATES: You only assert that the round figure is not more a figure than
the straight, or the straight than the round?
MENO: Very true.
SOCRATES: 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: Meno, 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.
MENO: I would rather that you should answer, Socrates.
SOCRATES: Shall I indulge you?
MENO: By all means.
SOCRATES: And then you will tell me about virtue?
MENO: I will.
SOCRATES: Then I must do my best, for there is a prize to be won.
MENO: Certainly.
SOCRATES: 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?
MENO: But, Socrates, it is such a simple answer.
SOCRATES: Why simple?
 MENO: Because, according to you, figure is that which always follows
colour.
(SOCRATES: Granted.)
MENO: 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?
SOCRATES: 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 premises
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 I 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.
MENO: Yes, I should; and I believe that I understand your meaning.
SOCRATES: And you would speak of a surface and also of a solid, as for
example in geometry.
MENO: Yes.
SOCRATES: 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.
MENO: And now, Socrates, what is colour?
SOCRATES: 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.
MENO: When you have told me what I ask, I will tell you, Socrates.
SOCRATES: 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.
MENO: Why do you think so?
 SOCRATES: 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.
MENO: Please do.
SOCRATES: Would you like me to answer you after the manner of
Gorgias, which is familiar to you?
MENO: I should like nothing better.
SOCRATES: Do not he and you and Empedocles say that there are certain
effluences of existence?
MENO: Certainly.
SOCRATES: And passages into which and through which the effluences
pass?
MENO: Exactly.
SOCRATES: And some of the effluences fit into the passages, and some of
them are too small or too large?
MENO: True.
SOCRATES: And there is such a thing as sight?
MENO: Yes.
SOCRATES: And now, as Pindar says, 'read my meaning:'—colour is an
effluence of form, commensurate with sight, and palpable to sense.
MENO: That, Socrates, appears to me to be an admirable answer.
SOCRATES: 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.
MENO: Quite true.
SOCRATES: The answer, Meno, was in the orthodox solemn vein, and
therefore was more acceptable to you than the other answer about figure.
MENO: Yes.
SOCRATES: 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.
MENO: But I will stay, Socrates, if you will give me many such answers.
SOCRATES: 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.
MENO: 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.'
SOCRATES: And does he who desires the honourable also desire the
good?
MENO: Certainly.
SOCRATES: Then are there some who desire the evil and others who
desire the good? Do not all men, my dear sir, desire good?
MENO: I think not.
SOCRATES: There are some who desire evil?
MENO: Yes.
SOCRATES: 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?
MENO: Both, I think.
SOCRATES: And do you really imagine, Meno, that a man knows evils to
be evils and desires them notwithstanding?
MENO: Certainly I do.
SOCRATES: And desire is of possession?
MENO: Yes, of possession.
SOCRATES: 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?
MENO: There are some who think that the evils will do them good, and
others who know that they will do them harm.
 SOCRATES: And, in your opinion, do those who think that they will do
them good know that they are evils?
MENO: Certainly not.
SOCRATES: 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
goods they really desire goods?
MENO: Yes, in that case.
SOCRATES: 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?
MENO: They must know it.
SOCRATES: And must they not suppose that those who are hurt are
miserable in proportion to the hurt which is inflicted upon them?
MENO: How can it be otherwise?
SOCRATES: But are not the miserable ill-fated?
MENO: Yes, indeed.
SOCRATES: And does any one desire to be miserable and ill-fated?
MENO: I should say not, Socrates.
SOCRATES: 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?
MENO: That appears to be the truth, Socrates, and I admit that nobody
desires evil.
SOCRATES: And yet, were you not saying just now that virtue is the
desire and power of attaining good?
MENO: Yes, I did say so.
SOCRATES: 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?
MENO: True.
SOCRATES: And if one man is not better than another in desiring good, he
must be better in the power of attaining it?
MENO: Exactly.
 SOCRATES: Then, according to your definition, virtue would appear to
be the power of attaining good?
MENO: I entirely approve, Socrates, of the manner in which you now
view this matter.
SOCRATES: 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?
MENO: Yes.
SOCRATES: And the goods which you 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?
MENO: Yes, I should include all those.
SOCRATES: 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?
MENO: Not virtue, Socrates, but vice.
SOCRATES: 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.
MENO: Why, how can there be virtue without these?
SOCRATES: 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?
MENO: True.
SOCRATES: 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.
MENO: It cannot be otherwise, in my judgment.
SOCRATES: And were we not saying just now that justice, temperance,
and the like, were each of them a part of virtue?
MENO: Yes.
SOCRATES: And so, Meno, this is the way in which you mock me.
 MENO: Why do you say that, Socrates?
SOCRATES: 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.
MENO: Yes.
SOCRATES: 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.
MENO: What of that?
SOCRATES: 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 Meno, 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?
MENO: No; I do not say that he can.
SOCRATES: Do you remember how, in the example of figure, we rejected
any answer given in terms which were as yet unexplained or unadmitted?
MENO: Yes, Socrates; and we were quite right in doing so.
SOCRATES: 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?
MENO: I believe that you are.
SOCRATES: Then begin again, and answer me, What, according to you
and your friend Gorgias, is the definition of virtue?
MENO: 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 you do
in Athens, you would be cast into prison as a magician.
SOCRATES: You are a rogue, Meno, and had all but caught me.
MENO: What do you mean, Socrates?
SOCRATES: I can tell why you made a simile about me.
MENO: Why?
SOCRATES: 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.
MENO: 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?
SOCRATES: I know, Meno, what you mean; but just see what a tiresome
dispute you are introducing. You argue that a 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 (Compare Aristot. Post. Anal.).
MENO: Well, Socrates, and is not the argument sound?
SOCRATES: I think not.
 MENO: Why not?
SOCRATES: I will tell you why: I have heard from certain wise men and
women who spoke of things divine that—
MENO: What did they say?
SOCRATES: They spoke of a glorious truth, as I conceive.
MENO: What was it? and who were they?
SOCRATES: 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, and 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.
MENO: 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?
SOCRATES: 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.
 MENO: 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.
SOCRATES: 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.
MENO: Certainly. Come hither, boy.
SOCRATES: He is Greek, and speaks Greek, does he not?
MENO: Yes, indeed; he was born in the house.
SOCRATES: Attend now to the questions which I ask him, and observe
whether he learns of me or only remembers.
MENO: I will.
SOCRATES: Tell me, boy, do you know that a figure like this is a square?
BOY: I do.
SOCRATES: And you know that a square figure has these four lines
equal?
BOY: Certainly.
SOCRATES: And these lines which I have drawn through the middle of
the square are also equal?
BOY: Yes.
SOCRATES: A square may be of any size?
BOY: Certainly.
SOCRATES: 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 the other direction of one foot, the
whole would be of two feet taken once?
BOY: Yes.
SOCRATES: But since this side is also of two feet, there are twice two
feet?
BOY: There are.
SOCRATES: Then the square is of twice two feet?
BOY: Yes.
SOCRATES: And how many are twice two feet? count and tell me.
 BOY: Four, Socrates.
SOCRATES: And might there not be another square twice as large as this,
and having like this the lines equal?
BOY: Yes.
SOCRATES: And of how many feet will that be?
BOY: Of eight feet.
SOCRATES: 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.
SOCRATES: 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?
MENO: Yes.
SOCRATES: And does he really know?
MENO: Certainly not.
SOCRATES: He only guesses that because the square is double, the line is
double.
MENO: True.
SOCRATES: 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.
SOCRATES: But does not this line become doubled if we add another
such line here?
BOY: Certainly.
SOCRATES: And four such lines will make a space containing eight feet?
BOY: Yes.
SOCRATES: Let us describe such a figure: Would you not say that this is
the figure of eight feet?
 BOY: Yes.
SOCRATES: And are there not these four divisions in the figure, each of
which is equal to the figure of four feet?
BOY: True.
SOCRATES: And is not that four times four?
BOY: Certainly.
SOCRATES: And four times is not double?
BOY: No, indeed.
SOCRATES: But how much?
BOY: Four times as much.
SOCRATES: Therefore the double line, boy, has given a space, not twice,
but four times as much.
BOY: True.
SOCRATES: Four times four are sixteen—are they not?
BOY: Yes.
SOCRATES: What line would give you a space of eight feet, as this gives
one of sixteen feet;—do you see?
BOY: Yes.
SOCRATES: And the space of four feet is made from this half line?
BOY: Yes.
SOCRATES: Good; and is not a space of eight feet twice the size of this,
and half the size of the other?
BOY: Certainly.
SOCRATES: 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.
SOCRATES: 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.
SOCRATES: 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.
 SOCRATES: Try and see if you can tell me how much it will be.
BOY: Three feet.
SOCRATES: 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.
SOCRATES: 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.
SOCRATES: And how much are three times three feet?
BOY: Nine.
SOCRATES: And how much is the double of four?
BOY: Eight.
SOCRATES: Then the figure of eight is not made out of a line of three?
BOY: No.
SOCRATES: 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.
SOCRATES: 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.
MENO: True.
SOCRATES: Is he not better off in knowing his ignorance?
MENO: I think that he is.
SOCRATES: If we have made him doubt, and given him the 'torpedo's
shock,' have we done him any harm?
MENO: I think not.
SOCRATES: 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.
 MENO: True.
SOCRATES: 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?
MENO: I think not, Socrates.
SOCRATES: Then he was the better for the torpedo's touch?
MENO: I think so.
SOCRATES: 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.
SOCRATES: And now I add another square equal to the former one?
BOY: Yes.
SOCRATES: And a third, which is equal to either of them?
BOY: Yes.
SOCRATES: Suppose that we fill up the vacant corner?
BOY: Very good.
SOCRATES: Here, then, there are four equal spaces?
BOY: Yes.
SOCRATES: And how many times larger is this space than this other?
BOY: Four times.
SOCRATES: But it ought to have been twice only, as you will remember.
BOY: True.
SOCRATES: And does not this line, reaching from corner to corner, bisect
each of these spaces?
BOY: Yes.
SOCRATES: And are there not here four equal lines which contain this
space?
BOY: There are.
 SOCRATES: Look and see how much this space is.
BOY: I do not understand.
SOCRATES: Has not each interior line cut off half of the four spaces?
BOY: Yes.
SOCRATES: And how many spaces are there in this section?
BOY: Four.
SOCRATES: And how many in this?
BOY: Two.
SOCRATES: And four is how many times two?
BOY: Twice.
SOCRATES: And this space is of how many feet?
BOY: Of eight feet.
SOCRATES: And from what line do you get this figure?
BOY: From this.
SOCRATES: That is, from the line which extends from corner to corner of
the figure of four feet?
BOY: Yes.
SOCRATES: 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.
SOCRATES: What do you say of him, Meno? Were not all these answers
given out of his own head?
MENO: Yes, they were all his own.
SOCRATES: And yet, as we were just now saying, he did not know?
MENO: True.
SOCRATES: But still he had in him those notions of his—had he not?
MENO: Yes.
SOCRATES: Then he who does not know may still have true notions of
that which he does not know?
MENO: He has.
 SOCRATES: 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?
MENO: I dare say.
SOCRATES: Without any one teaching him he will recover his knowledge
for himself, if he is only asked questions?
MENO: Yes.
SOCRATES: And this spontaneous recovery of knowledge in him is
recollection?
MENO: True.
SOCRATES: And this knowledge which he now has must he not either
have acquired or always possessed?
MENO: Yes.
SOCRATES: 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.
MENO: And I am certain that no one ever did teach him.
SOCRATES: And yet he has the knowledge?
MENO: The fact, Socrates, is undeniable.
SOCRATES: But if he did not acquire the knowledge in this life, then he
must have had and learned it at some other time?
MENO: Clearly he must.
SOCRATES: Which must have been the time when he was not a man?
MENO: Yes.
SOCRATES: 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?
MENO: Obviously.
 SOCRATES: 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.
MENO: I feel, somehow, that I like what you are saying.
SOCRATES: 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.
MENO: There again, Socrates, your words seem to me excellent.
SOCRATES: 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?
MENO: 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?
SOCRATES: 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 (Or, whether a
certain area is capable of being inscribed as a triangle 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 (Or, when you apply it to the given line, i.e. the
diameter of the circle (autou).), the given area of the triangle falls short by an
area corresponding to the part produced (Or, similar to the area so applied.),
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 is 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 every
one see that knowledge alone is taught?
MENO: I agree.
SOCRATES: Then if virtue is knowledge, virtue will be taught?
MENO: Certainly.
SOCRATES: 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?
MENO: Certainly.
SOCRATES: The next question is, whether virtue is knowledge or of
another species?
MENO: Yes, that appears to be the question which comes next in order.
SOCRATES: Do we not say that virtue is a good?—This is a hypothesis
which is not set aside.
MENO: Certainly.
SOCRATES: 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 thinking that virtue is knowledge?
MENO: True.
SOCRATES: And virtue makes us good?
MENO: Yes.
SOCRATES: And if we are good, then we are profitable; for all good
things are profitable?
MENO: Yes.
SOCRATES: Then virtue is profitable?
MENO: That is the only inference.
SOCRATES: 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?
MENO: True.
SOCRATES: And yet these things may also sometimes do us harm: would
you not think so?
MENO: Yes.
SOCRATES: 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?
MENO: Certainly.
SOCRATES: Next, let us consider the goods of the soul: they are
temperance, justice, courage, quickness of apprehension, memory,
magnanimity, and the like?
MENO: Surely.
SOCRATES: 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?
MENO: True.
SOCRATES: 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?
MENO: Very true.
SOCRATES: And in general, all that the soul attempts or endures, when
under the guidance of wisdom, ends in happiness; but when she is under the
guidance of folly, in the opposite?
MENO: That appears to be true.
SOCRATES: 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 if
virtue is profitable, virtue must be a sort of wisdom or prudence?
MENO: I quite agree.
SOCRATES: 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?
MENO: True.
SOCRATES: And the wise soul guides them rightly, and the foolish soul
wrongly.
MENO: Yes.
SOCRATES: 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?
MENO: Certainly.
SOCRATES: And thus we arrive at the conclusion that virtue is either
wholly or partly wisdom?
MENO: I think that what you are saying, Socrates, is very true.
SOCRATES: But if this is true, then the good are not by nature good?
MENO: I think not.
SOCRATES: 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?
MENO: Yes, Socrates, that would have been the right way.
SOCRATES: But if the good are not by nature good, are they made good
by instruction?
MENO: There appears to be no other alternative, Socrates. On the
supposition that virtue is knowledge, there can be no doubt that virtue is
taught.
SOCRATES: Yes, indeed; but what if the supposition is erroneous?
MENO: I certainly thought just now that we were right.
SOCRATES: Yes, Meno; but a principle which has any soundness should
stand firm not only just now, but always.
 MENO: Well; and why are you so slow of heart to believe that knowledge
is virtue?
SOCRATES: 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?
MENO: Surely.
SOCRATES: And conversely, may not the art of which neither teachers
nor disciples exist be assumed to be incapable of being taught?
MENO: True; but do you think that there are no teachers of virtue?
SOCRATES: 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 overbearing, 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.
SOCRATES: Or if we wanted him to be a good cobbler, should we not
send him to the cobblers?
ANYTUS: Yes.
SOCRATES: And so forth?
ANYTUS: Yes.
 SOCRATES: 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?
ANYTUS: Yes.
SOCRATES: 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?
ANYTUS: Yes, by Zeus, and of ignorance too.
SOCRATES: 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?
ANYTUS: Whom do you mean, Socrates?
SOCRATES: You surely know, do you not, Anytus, that these are the
people whom mankind call Sophists?
ANYTUS: 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 influence to those who have to do with them.
SOCRATES: 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 be? 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?
ANYTUS: 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.
SOCRATES: Has any of the Sophists wronged you, Anytus? What makes
you so angry with them?
ANYTUS: No, indeed, neither I nor any of my belongings has ever had,
nor would I suffer them to have, anything to do with them.
SOCRATES: Then you are entirely unacquainted with them?
ANYTUS: And I have no wish to be acquainted.
SOCRATES: Then, my dear friend, how can you know whether a thing is
good or bad of which you are wholly ignorant?
ANYTUS: Quite well; I am sure that I know what manner of men these are,
whether I am acquainted with them or not.
SOCRATES: 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.
ANYTUS: Why do you not tell him yourself?
SOCRATES: 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?
ANYTUS: 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.
SOCRATES: 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?
ANYTUS: I imagine that they learned of the previous generation of
gentlemen. Have there not been many good men in this city?
SOCRATES: 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 of 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?
ANYTUS: Certainly; no man better.
SOCRATES: And must not he then have been a good teacher, if any man
ever was a good teacher, of his own virtue?
ANYTUS: Yes certainly,—if he wanted to be so.
SOCRATES: 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?
ANYTUS: I have.
SOCRATES: Then no one could say that his son showed any want of
capacity?
ANYTUS: Very likely not.
SOCRATES: 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?
ANYTUS: I have certainly never heard any one say so.
SOCRATES: 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?
ANYTUS: Indeed, indeed, I think not.
SOCRATES: 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?
ANYTUS: To be sure I should.
SOCRATES: 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.
ANYTUS: I know.
SOCRATES: 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?
ANYTUS: I have heard of them.
SOCRATES: 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?
ANYTUS: 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.
SOCRATES: 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?
MENO: Certainly there are.
SOCRATES: And are they willing to teach the young? and do they profess
to be teachers? and do they agree that virtue is taught?
MENO: 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.
SOCRATES: Can we call those teachers who do not acknowledge the
possibility of their own vocation?
MENO: I think not, Socrates.
 SOCRATES: And what do you think of these Sophists, who are the only
professors? Do they seem to you to be teachers of virtue?
MENO: 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.
SOCRATES: Then do you not think that the Sophists are teachers?
MENO: 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.
SOCRATES: 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?
MENO: Where does he say so?
SOCRATES: In these elegiac verses (Theog.):
'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?
MENO: Clearly.
SOCRATES: But in some other verses he shifts about and says (Theog.):
'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.
MENO: Clearly.
SOCRATES: 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?
 MENO: I should say, certainly not.
SOCRATES: But if neither the Sophists nor the gentlemen are teachers,
clearly there can be no other teachers?
MENO: No.
SOCRATES: And if there are no teachers, neither are there disciples?
MENO: Agreed.
SOCRATES: And we have admitted that a thing cannot be taught of which
there are neither teachers nor disciples?
MENO: We have.
SOCRATES: And there are no teachers of virtue to be found anywhere?
MENO: There are not.
SOCRATES: And if there are no teachers, neither are there scholars?
MENO: That, I think, is true.
SOCRATES: Then virtue cannot be taught?
MENO: 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?
SOCRATES: 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.
MENO: How do you mean, Socrates?
SOCRATES: I mean that good men are necessarily useful or profitable.
Were we not right in admitting this? It must be so.
MENO: Yes.
SOCRATES: And in supposing that they will be useful only if they are true
guides to us of action—there we were also right?
MENO: Yes.
 SOCRATES: But when we said that a man cannot be a good guide unless
he have knowledge (phrhonesis), this we were wrong.
MENO: What do you mean by the word 'right'?
SOCRATES: 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?
MENO: Certainly.
SOCRATES: 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?
MENO: Certainly.
SOCRATES: 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?
MENO: Exactly.
SOCRATES: 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.
MENO: True.
SOCRATES: Then right opinion is not less useful than knowledge?
MENO: 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.
SOCRATES: What do you mean? Can he be wrong who has right opinion,
so long as he has right opinion?
MENO: 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.
SOCRATES: And shall I explain this wonder to you?
MENO: Do tell me.
SOCRATES: You would not wonder if you had ever observed the images
of Daedalus (Compare Euthyphro); but perhaps you have not got them in your
country?
 MENO: What have they to do with the question?
SOCRATES: Because they require to be fastened in order to keep them,
and if they are not fastened they will play truant and run away.
MENO: Well, what of that?
SOCRATES: 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.
MENO: What you are saying, Socrates, seems to be very like the truth.
SOCRATES: 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.
MENO: Yes, Socrates; and you are quite right in saying so.
SOCRATES: And am I not also right in saying that true opinion leading the
way perfects action quite as well as knowledge?
MENO: There again, Socrates, I think you are right.
SOCRATES: 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?
MENO: True.
SOCRATES: And surely the good man has been acknowledged by us to be
useful?
MENO: Yes.
SOCRATES: 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?
MENO: Not I.)
SOCRATES: Then if they are not given by nature, neither are the good by
nature good?
MENO: Certainly not.
SOCRATES: And nature being excluded, then came the question whether
virtue is acquired by teaching?
MENO: Yes.
SOCRATES: If virtue was wisdom (or knowledge), then, as we thought, it
was taught?
MENO: Yes.
SOCRATES: And if it was taught it was wisdom?
MENO: Certainly.
SOCRATES: And if there were teachers, it might be taught; and if there
were no teachers, not?
MENO: True.
SOCRATES: But surely we acknowledged that there were no teachers of
virtue?
MENO: Yes.
SOCRATES: Then we acknowledged that it was not taught, and was not
wisdom?
MENO: Certainly.
SOCRATES: And yet we admitted that it was a good?
MENO: Yes.
SOCRATES: And the right guide is useful and good?
MENO: Certainly.
SOCRATES: 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.
MENO: I think so too.
SOCRATES: But if virtue is not taught, neither is virtue knowledge.
 MENO: Clearly not.
SOCRATES: 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.
MENO: I think not.
SOCRATES: 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.
MENO: That is probably true, Socrates.
SOCRATES: 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.
MENO: So I believe.
SOCRATES: And may we not, Meno, truly call those men 'divine' who,
having no understanding, yet succeed in many a grand deed and word?
MENO: Certainly.
SOCRATES: 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.
MENO: Yes.
SOCRATES: 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.'
MENO: And I think, Socrates, that they are right; although very likely our
friend Anytus may take offence at the word.
SOCRATES: 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.
MENO: That is excellent, Socrates.
SOCRATES: 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.
 *** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MENO ***

Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will be
renamed.

Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright law
means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the
Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth in
the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to copying and
distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT
GUTENBERG™ concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered
trademark, and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by
following the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for
use of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for
copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very easy. You
may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative
works, reports, performances and research. Project Gutenberg eBooks may
be modified and printed and given away—you may do practically
ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected by U.S.
copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark license, especially
commercial redistribution.

START: FULL LICENSE

THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
 PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK

To protect the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting the free distribution

of electronic works, by using or distributing this work (or any other work
associated in any way with the phrase “Project Gutenberg”), you agree to
comply with all the terms of the Full Project Gutenberg™ License available
with this file or online at www.gutenberg.org/license.

Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing

Project Gutenberg™ electronic works
1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg™ electronic
work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to and accept all the
terms of this license and intellectual property (trademark/copyright)
agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all the terms of this agreement, you
must cease using and return or destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg™
electronic works in your possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of
or access to a Project Gutenberg™ electronic work and you do not agree to
be bound by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the
person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.

1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be used on or

associated in any way with an electronic work by people who agree to be
bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few things that you can do
with most Project Gutenberg™ electronic works even without complying
with the full terms of this agreement. See paragraph 1.C below. There are a
lot of things you can do with Project Gutenberg™ electronic works if you
follow the terms of this agreement and help preserve free future access to
Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below.

1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the Foundation”

or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
Gutenberg™ electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the
collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an individual work
is unprotected by copyright law in the United States and you are located in
the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from copying,
distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative works based on
the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of
course, we hope that you will support the Project Gutenberg™ mission of
promoting free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project
Gutenberg™ works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for
keeping the Project Gutenberg™ name associated with the work. You can
easily comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the
same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg™ License when you
share it without charge with others.

1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern what
you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in a constant
state of change. If you are outside the United States, check the laws of your
country in addition to the terms of this agreement before downloading,
copying, displaying, performing, distributing or creating derivative works
based on this work or any other Project Gutenberg™ work. The Foundation
makes no representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any
country other than the United States.

1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:

1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
access to, the full Project Gutenberg™ License must appear prominently
whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg™ work (any work on which the
phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the phrase “Project
Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
copied or distributed:

This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United

States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it
away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg
License included with this eBook or online at
www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United
States, you will have to check the laws of the country where
you are located before using this eBook.

1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is derived from

texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not contain a notice
indicating that it is posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work
can be copied and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying
any fees or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
with the phrase “Project Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the
work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project
Gutenberg™ trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.

1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is posted with

the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution must comply
with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional terms imposed
by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked to the Project
Gutenberg™ License for all works posted with the permission of the
copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.

1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg™

License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this work or
any other work associated with Project Gutenberg™.

1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this electronic

work, or any part of this electronic work, without prominently displaying the
sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with active links or immediate access to
the full terms of the Project Gutenberg™ License.

1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or
distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg™ work in a format other than “Plain
Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official version posted on the
official Project Gutenberg™ website (www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no
additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a copy, a means of
exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in
its original “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other form. Any alternate format must
include the full Project Gutenberg™ License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.

1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, performing,
copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg™ works unless you comply
with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing access to
or distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works provided that:

• You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from the
use of Project Gutenberg™ works calculated using the method you
already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed to the
owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, but he has agreed to
donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project Gutenberg Literary
Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid within 60 days
following each date on which you prepare (or are legally required to
prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty payments should be clearly
marked as such and sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
Foundation at the address specified in Section 4, “Information about
donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.”

• You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies you
in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he does not
agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg™ License. You must
require such a user to return or destroy all copies of the works
possessed in a physical medium and discontinue all use of and all
access to other copies of Project Gutenberg™ works.

• You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any

money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of
receipt of the work.

• You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free distribution
of Project Gutenberg™ works.

1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg™

electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set forth in this
agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from the Project Gutenberg
Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of the Project Gutenberg™
trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.

1.F.
1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread works
not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project Gutenberg™
collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg™ electronic works, and
the medium on which they may be stored, may contain “Defects,” such as, but
not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or corrupt data, transcription errors, a
copyright or other intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged
disk or other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or
cannot be read by your equipment.

1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for

the “Right of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the
Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
Gutenberg™ trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
Gutenberg™ electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all liability to
you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal fees. YOU AGREE
THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT
EXCEPT THOSE PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT
THE FOUNDATION, THE TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY
DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE LIABLE TO
YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL,
PUNITIVE OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE
OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGE.

1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you

discover a defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you
can receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a written
explanation to the person you received the work from. If you received the
work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with your written
explanation. The person or entity that provided you with the defective work
may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a refund. If you received
the work electronically, the person or entity providing it to you may choose
to give you a second opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of
a refund. If the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in
writing without further opportunities to fix the problem.
1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth in
paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS’, WITH NO OTHER
WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING
BUT NOT LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR
FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.

1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied warranties or

the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. If any disclaimer or
limitation set forth in this agreement violates the law of the state applicable
to this agreement, the agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum
disclaimer or limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity
or unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the
remaining provisions.

1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone providing
copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in accordance with this
agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, promotion and
distribution of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works, harmless from all
liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, that arise directly or
indirectly from any of the following which you do or cause to occur: (a)
distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg™ work, (b) alteration,
modification, or additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg™ work, and
(c) any Defect you cause.

Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project

Gutenberg™

Project Gutenberg™ is synonymous with the free distribution of electronic

works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers including
obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists because of the
efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from people in all walks of
life.

Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the assistance

they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg™’s goals and ensuring
that the Project Gutenberg™ collection will remain freely available for
generations to come. In 2001, the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
Foundation was created to provide a secure and permanent future for Project
Gutenberg™ and future generations. To learn more about the Project
Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations
can help, see Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at
www.gutenberg.org.

Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg

Literary Archive Foundation

The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit 501(c)(3)

educational corporation organized under the laws of the state of Mississippi
and granted tax exempt status by the Internal Revenue Service. The
Foundation’s EIN or federal tax identification number is 64-6221541.
Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation are tax
deductible to the full extent permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state’s
laws.

The Foundation’s business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt
Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to date
contact information can be found at the Foundation’s website and official
page at www.gutenberg.org/contact

Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project

Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation

Project Gutenberg™ depends upon and cannot survive without widespread

public support and donations to carry out its mission of increasing the
number of public domain and licensed works that can be freely distributed in
machine-readable form accessible by the widest array of equipment
including outdated equipment. Many small donations ($1 to $5,000) are
particularly important to maintaining tax exempt status with the IRS.

The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating charities

and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United States. Compliance
requirements are not uniform and it takes a considerable effort, much
paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up with these requirements. We
do not solicit donations in locations where we have not received written
confirmation of compliance. To SEND DONATIONS or determine the status
of compliance for any particular state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate.

While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we have
not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition against
accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who approach us
with offers to donate.

International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make any

statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from outside the
United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.

Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation methods
and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other ways including
checks, online payments and credit card donations. To donate, please visit:
www.gutenberg.org/donate.

Section 5. General Information About Project

Gutenberg™ electronic works

Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg™

concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared with
anyone. For forty years, he produced and distributed Project Gutenberg™
eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.

Project Gutenberg™ eBooks are often created from several printed editions,
all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in the U.S. unless a
copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily keep eBooks in
compliance with any particular paper edition.

Most people start at our website which has the main PG search facility:
www.gutenberg.org.

This website includes information about Project Gutenberg™, including how

to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation,
how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to subscribe to our email
newsletter to hear about new eBooks.