Meno (75)

Soc.

Then what can this thing be, which bears the name of figure? Try and tell me. Suppose that, on being asked this question by someone,

either about figure or about color, you had replied: Why, I don’t so much as understand what you want, sir, or even know what you are saying: he might well have shown surprise, and said: Do you not understand that I am looking for that which is the same common element in all these things? Or would you still be unable to reply, Meno, if you were approached on other terms, and were asked: What is it that is common to the round and the straight and everything else that you call figures—the same in all? Try and tell me it will be good practice for your answer about virtue.

Men.

No, it is you who must answer, Socrates.

Soc.

You wish me to do you the favour?

Men.

By all means.

Soc.

And then you will agree to take your turn and answer me on virtue?

Men.

I will.

Soc.

Well then, I must make the effort, for it is worth our while.

Men.

Certainly.

Soc.

Come now, let me try and tell you what figure is. Just consider if you accept this description of it: figure, let us say, is the only existing thing that is found always following color. Are you satisfied, or are you looking for something different? I am sure I should be content with a similar account of virtue from you.

Men.

But it is such a silly one, Socrates.

Soc.

How do you mean?

Men.

Well, figure, as I understand by your account, is what always follows color. Very good; but if some one said he did not know color, and was in the same difficulty about it as about figure, what answer do you suppose would have come from you?

Soc.

The truth, from me; and if my questioner were a professor of the eristic and contentious sort, I should say to him:

I have made my statement; if it is wrong, your business is to examine and refute it. But if, like you and me on this occasion, we were friends and chose to have a discussion together, I should have to reply in some milder tone more suited to dialectic. The more dialectical way, I suppose, is not merely to answer what is true, but also to make use of those points which the questioned person acknowledges he knows. And this is the way in which I shall now try to argue with you. Tell me, is there something you call an end? Such a thing, I mean, as a limit, or extremity—I use all these terms in the same sense, though I daresay Prodicus[*] might quarrel with us. But you, I am sure, refer to a thing as terminated or ended: something of that sort is what I mean—nothing complicated.

Men.

Yes, I do, and I think I grasp your meaning.