Meno

Soc.

And did those gentlemen grow spontaneously into what they are, and without learning from anybody are they able, nevertheless, to teach others what they did not learn themselves?

An.

I expect they must have learnt in their turn from the older generation, who were gentlemen: or does it not seem to you that we have had many good men in this city?

Soc.

Yes, I agree, Anytus; we have also many who are good at politics, and have had them in the past as well as now. But I want to know whether they have proved good teachers besides of their own virtue: that is the question with which our discussion is actually concerned; not whether there are, or formerly have been, good men here amongst us or not, but whether virtue is teachable; this has been our problem all the time. And our inquiry into this problem resolves itself into the question: Did the good men of our own and of former times know how to transmit to another man the virtue in respect of which they were good, or is it something not to be transmitted or taken over from one human being to another? That is the question I and Meno have been discussing all this time. Well, just consider it in your own way of speaking: would you not say that Themistocles was a good man?

An.

I would, particularly so.

Soc.

And if any man ever was a teacher of his own virtue, he especially was a good teacher of his?

An.

In my opinion, yes, assuming that he wished to be so.

Soc.

But can you suppose he would not have wished that other people should become good, honorable men—above all, I presume, his own son? Or do you think he was jealous of him, and deliberately refused to impart the virtue of his own goodness to him? Have you never heard how Themistocles had his son Cleophantus taught to be a good horseman? Why, he could keep his balance standing upright on horseback, and hurl the javelin while so standing, and perform many other wonderful feats in which his father had had him trained, so as to make him skilled in all that could be learnt from good masters. Surely you must have heard all this from your elders?

An.

I have.

Soc.

Then there could be no complaints of badness in his son’s nature?

An.

I daresay not.

Soc.

But I ask you—did you ever hear anybody, old or young, say that Cleophantus, son of Themistocles, had the same goodness and accomplishments as his father?

An.

Certainly not.

Soc.

And can we believe that his father chose to train his own son in those feats, and yet made him no better than his neighbors in his own particular accomplishments—if virtue, as alleged, was to be taught?

An.

On my word, I think not.

Soc.

Well, there you have a fine teacher of virtue who, you admit, was one of the best men of past times. Let us take another, Aristeides, son of Lysimachus: do you not admit that he was a good man?

An.

I do, absolutely, of course.

Soc.

Well, did he not train his son Lysimachus better than any other Athenian in all that masters could teach him? And in the result, do you consider he has turned out better than anyone else? You have been in his company, I know, and you see what he is like. Or take another example— the splendidly accomplished Pericles: he, as you are aware, brought up two sons, Paralus and Xanthippus.

An.

Yes.

Soc.

And, you know as well as I, he taught them to be the foremost horsemen of Athens, and trained them to excel in music and gymnastics and all else that comes under the head of the arts; and with all that, had he no desire to make them good men? He wished to, I imagine, but presumably it is not a thing one can be taught. And that you may not suppose it was only a few of the meanest sort of Athenians who failed in this matter, let me remind you that Thucydides’[*](Thucydides (son of Melesias, and no relation of the historian) was an aristocrat of high principle and conservative views who opposed the plans of Pericles for enriching and adorning Athens.) also brought up two sons, Melesias and Stephanus, and that besides giving them a good general education he made them the best wrestlers in Athens: one he placed with Xanthias, and the other with Eudorus—masters who, I should think, had the name of being the best exponents of the art. You remember them, do you not?

An.

Yes, by hearsay.

Soc.

Well, is it not obvious that this father would never have spent his money on having his children taught all those things, and then have omitted to teach them at no expense the others that would have made them good men, if virtue was to be taught? Will you say that perhaps Thucydides was one of the meaner sort, and had no great number of friends among the Athenians and allies? He, who was of a great house and had much influence in our city and all over Greece, so that if virtue were to be taught he would have found out the man who was likely to make his sons good, whether one of our own people or a foreigner, were he himself too busy owing to the cares of state! Ah no, my dear Anytus, it looks as though virtue were not a teachable thing.

An.

Socrates, I consider you are too apt to speak ill of people. I, for one, if you will take my advice, would warn you to be careful: in most cities it is probably easier to do people harm than good, and particularly in this one; I think you know that yourself.[*](Anytus goes away. His parting words show that (in Plato’s view) he regarded Socrates as an enemy of the restored democracy which, he hints, has popular juries only too ready to condemn such an awkward critic.)

Soc.

Meno, I think Anytus is angry, and I am not at all surprised: for he conceives, in the first place, that I am speaking ill of these gentlemen; and in the second place, he considers he is one of them himself. Yet, should the day come when he knows what speaking ill means, his anger will cease; at present he does not know.[*](This is probably not a reference to a prosecution of Anytus himself, but a suggestion that what he needs is a Socratic discussion on speaking ill, for ill may mean maliciously, untruthfully, ignorantly, etc.) Now you must answer me: are there not good and honorable men among your people also?

Men.

Certainly.

Soc.

Well then, are they willing to put themselves forward as teachers of the young, and avow that they are teachers and that virtue is to be taught?

Men.

No, no, Socrates, I assure you: sometimes you may hear them refer to it as teachable, but sometimes as not.

Soc.

Then are we to call those persons teachers of this thing, when they do not even agree on that great question?

Men.

I should say not, Socrates.

Soc.

Well, and what of the sophists? Do you consider these, its only professors, to be teachers of virtue?

Men.

That is a point, Socrates, for which I admire Gorgias: you will never hear him promising this, and he ridicules the others when he hears them promise it. Skill in speaking is what he takes it to be their business to produce.

Soc.

Then you do not think the sophists are teachers of virtue?

Men.

I cannot say, Socrates. I am in the same plight as the rest of the world: sometimes I think that they are, sometimes that they are not.

Soc.

And are you aware that not only you and other political folk are in two minds as to whether virtue is to be taught, but Theognis the poet also says, you remember, the very same thing?

Men.

In which part of his poems?

Soc.

In those elegiac lines where he says—

1. Eat and drink with these men; sit with them, and he pleasing unto them, who wield great power; for from the good wilt thou win thee lessons in the good; but mingle with the bad,

and thou wilt lose even the sense that thou hast.

Theognis 33-36 BergkDo you observe how in these words he implies that virtue is to be taught?

Men.

He does, evidently.

Soc.

But in some other lines he shifts his ground a little, saying—

1. Could understanding be created and put into a man

Theognis 434-438 Bergk (I think it runs thus)

many high rewards would they obtain

for he would have followed the precepts of wisdom: but not by teaching wilt thou ever make the had man good

Bergk 434-438. You notice how in the second passage he contradicts himself on the same point?

Men.

Apparently.

Soc.

Well, can you name any other subject in which the professing teachers are not only refused recognition as teachers of others, but regarded as not even understanding it themselves, and indeed as inferior in the very quality of which they claim to be teachers; while those who are themselves recognized as men of worth and honor say at one time that it is teachable, and at another that it is not? When people are so confused about this or that matter, can you say they are teachers in any proper sense of the word?

Men.

No, indeed, I cannot.

Soc.

Well, if neither the sophists nor the men who are themselves good and honorable are teachers of the subject, clearly no others can be?

Men.

I agree.

Soc.

And if there are no teachers, there can be no disciples either?

Men.

I think that statement is true.

Soc.

And we have admitted that a thing of which there are neither teachers nor disciples cannot be taught?

Men.

We have.

Soc.

So nowhere are any teachers of virtue to be found?

Men.

That is so.

Soc.

And if no teachers, then no disciples?

Men.

So it appears.

Soc.

Hence virtue cannot be taught?

Men.

It seems likely, if our investigation is correct. And that makes me wonder, I must say, Socrates, whether perhaps there are no good men at all, or by what possible sort of process good people can come to exist?

Soc.

I fear, Meno, you and I are but poor creatures, and Gorgias has been as faulty an educator of you as Prodicus of me. So our first duty is to look to ourselves, and try to find somebody who will have some means or other of making us better. I say this with special reference to our recent inquiry, in which I see that we absurdly failed to note that it is not only through the guidance of knowledge that human conduct is right and good; and it is probably owing to this that we fail to perceive by what means good men can be produced.

Men.

To what are you alluding, Socrates?