THE SECOND DEFINITION

Meno's second definition of virtue comes at 73c9–d1: ‘what else, but the power to rule over people, if you are looking for one definition to cover all cases?’ The discussion of this definition is very brief. Although Meno claims it satisfies the unitarian assumption, Socrates immediately points out that it does not apply to children or slaves. He then asks whether they should not add the power to rule with justice. Meno agrees, on the grounds that justice is virtue. ‘Virtue or a virtue?’ Socrates asks. Meno does not appear to understand; but after being given a parallel, quickly agrees that there are other virtues: for example, courage, temperance, magnificence (megaloprepeia), wisdom and many more besides. Now, however, they are back where they started, with a swarm of virtues and still no common characteristic. When Meno professes himself unable to find this characteristic, Socrates feels compelled to explain at some length what it means to ask for a definition.

In this brief passage, Socrates entirely demolishes Meno's second definition. In the process of doing so, he points towards an account of virtue as a genus with a wide range of species. This will come to the fore in the discussion of the third definition. Another striking feature is the way Meno appears to have forgotten the lessons of the previous discussion so quickly. We shall consider the implications of this when we discuss his character as an interlocutor on pages 60–5 below.

Most of Plato's works start with an introductory scene, often of considerable length, giving details about the characters involved in the dialogue, as well as its physical and historical setting. The Meno, however, appears to have no introductory scene at all. As one commentator has put it: ‘The dialogue opens with an abruptness hardly to be paralleled elsewhere in the genuine work of Plato by the propounding of a theme directly for discussion.’ The same commentator immediately goes on to criticise the dialogue for failing to live up to Plato's usual standards of literary composition. It must, he concludes, be a very early work.

Yet, although Meno propounds a theme directly for discussion, Socrates' reply takes a circuitous route, as if trying to slow the conversation down. He talks of how the Thessalians, previously renowned for horsemanship and wealth, have now acquired a reputation for wisdom. By contrast, his own people, the Athenians, are in exactly the opposite state: their wisdom has emigrated to Thessaly, leaving them ignorant about the very nature of virtue, let alone whether it is teachable. This then cues a principle that will be central to the dialogue: one cannot know how virtue may be acquired without knowing what it is (71b3–8). Only now is Socrates ready to start the philosophical discussion. But en route to this point, he has peppered his speech with proper names and allusions that send modern readers scurrying to the commentaries.

SOCRATES VERSUS GORGIAS

Meno is surprised at Socrates' claim not to know what virtue is, and no less surprised that he has never met anyone else who does:

Socrates has now set the stage for Meno to give a definition of virtue and, in doing so, continues to draw out one of the central themes of his initial speech: Meno is positioned as someone who will be recalling views enunciated by Gorgias. This exchange also continues the proleptic technique of the previous lines: the references to memory (71c8 and c10) playfully anticipate the most famous theme of the dialogue.

THE RELIGIOUS BACKGROUND

When Socrates proposes to reveal a doctrine (logos) that he has heard from various religious sources, Meno is agog: what is this logos and who originated it? The doctrine, Socrates replies, comes from priests, priestesses and divinely inspired poets:

First, we need to make some sense of these extremely allusive lines. Socrates starts by making two claims – that the soul is immortal and is subject to reincarnation – and from these he derives the injunction to live as piously as possible, something that the verses are supposed to explain (cf. γάρ 81b7). The point seems to be that, because of some ancient wrong (perhaps committed against Persephone herself), our penalty is to pass through a series of incarnations. If in the course of them we act piously, Persephone may be satisfied and reward us. This would be done after a fixed period of time spent in the underworld, viz. nine years.

Introduction (1–24)

(1) The general character of the skeptical ability has been indicated with the appropriate treatment, sketched out in part directly and in part by means of a division of the philosophies close to it. What is left is to explain, next, how it is applied to the particulars, with a view to avoiding a reckless haste either when inquiring about things on our own or when rebutting the dogmatists. (2) But since philosophy is a many-faceted sort of thing, it will be necessary, for the sake of an orderly and systematic search, to draw a few distinctions concerning its parts.

The parts of philosophy (2–23)

For, to begin with, some people seem to have supposed that it has one part, some two parts, and some three parts; and of those who have posited one part some have posited the physical part, some the ethical part, and some the logical part, (3) and similarly of those who divide it into two some have divided it into the physical and the logical parts, some into the physical and the ethical, and some into the logical and the ethical; (4) whereas those who divide it into three have agreed in dividing it into the physical, the logical, and the ethical parts.

(5) The ones who maintained that it has just the physical part are Thales, Anaximenes and Anaximander, Empedocles, Parmenides, and Heraclitus – Thales, Anaximenes, and Anaximander according to everyone and without dispute, but Empedocles and Parmenides and also Heraclitus not according to everyone.

Sextus' life and works

The two books Against the Logicians are part of a larger work by Sextus Empiricus, the best known ancient Greek skeptic and the only one from whom we possess complete texts, as opposed to fragments or second-hand summaries. About Sextus Empiricus himself we know virtually nothing. He identifies himself as a member of the Pyrrhonist skeptical tradition, on which more in the next section. He occasionally refers to himself in the first person as a medical practitioner (PH 2.238, M 1.260, cf. M 11.47). His title would suggest that he was a member of the Empiricist school of medicine. This is confirmed by Diogenes Laertius (9.116), who refers to him as “Sextus the Empiricist”; it would anyway not be surprising, given that we know the names of several other Pyrrhonists who were also Empiricists. Sextus at one point addresses the question whether medical Empiricism is the same as Pyrrhonist skepticism (PH 1.236–241), and unexpectedly replies that another school, the Methodist school, has closer affinities with skepticism. However, it is possible to read this passage as expressing suspicion towards a certain specific form of Empiricism, rather than towards the school as a whole.

Such indications as there are concerning where Sextus was born, or where he worked in his maturity, are too slender to bear any significant weight. The evidence suggests that he lived in the second century ce, but it is not clear that we can fix his dates with any more precision than that.

The true (1–140)

(1) In the treatise that we have now finished, we have gone over the impasses that are usually recounted by the skeptics with a view to doing away with the criterion of truth. Having also given the account that they trace from the original physicists up to more recent figures, we promised, on top of all this, to speak separately about the true itself. Hence, in fulfilling that promise now, let us first look into whether there is anything true.

Whether there is anything true

(2) It is apparent to everyone right away that, if there is no obvious criterion, the true is also necessarily made unclear at the same time. But still, it will be possible for good measure to explain that even if we say nothing directly against the criterion, the disagreement about the true itself is sufficient to bring us into suspension of judgment. (3) And in the same way as, if there is nothing straight or crooked in the nature of things, neither is there a standard capable of testing them; and if there is no heavy or light body, the setting up of scales is also done away with; so if there is nothing true, the criterion of truth is also gone. And that there is nothing true or false – if we go by the dogmatists' words – we can learn once we have laid out the disagreement on this subject that has developed among them.