Men. Because, according to you, figure is that which always
follows colour.

  (Soc. Granted.)

  Men. But if a person were to say that he does not know what colour
is, any more than what figure is-what sort of answer would you have
given him?

  Soc. I should have told him the truth. And if he were a
philosopher of the eristic and antagonistic sort, I should say to him:
You have my answer, and if I am wrong, your business is to take up the
argument and refute me. But if we were friends, and were talking as
you and I are now, I should reply in a milder strain and more in the
dialectician's vein; that is to say, I should not only speak the
truth, but I should make use of premisses which the person
interrogated would be willing to admit. And this is the way in which I
shall endeavour to approach you. You will acknowledge, will you not,
that there is such a thing as an end, or termination, or
extremity?-all which words use in the same sense, although I am
aware that Prodicus might draw distinctions about them: but still you,
I am sure, would speak of a thing as ended or terminated-that is all
which I am saying-not anything very difficult.

  Men. Yes, I should; and I believe that I understand your meaning.

  Soc. And you would speak of a surface and also of a solid, as for
example in geometry.

  Men. Yes.

  Soc. Well then, you are now in a condition to understand my
definition of figure. I define figure to be that in which the solid
ends; or, more concisely, the limit of solid.

  Men. And now, Socrates, what is colour?

  Soc. You are outrageous, Meno, in thus plaguing a poor old man to
give you an answer, when you will not take the trouble of
remembering what is Gorgias' definition of virtue.

  Men. When you have told me what I ask, I will tell you, Socrates.

  Soc. A man who was blindfolded has only to hear you talking, and
he would know that you are a fair creature and have still many lovers.

  Men. Why do you think so?

  Soc. Why, because you always speak in imperatives: like all beauties
when they are in their prime, you are tyrannical; and also, as I
suspect, you have found out that I have weakness for the fair, and
therefore to humour you I must answer.

  Men. Please do.

  Soc. Would you like me to answer you after the manner of Gorgias,
which is familiar to you?

  Men. I should like nothing better.

  Soc. Do not he and you and Empedocles say that there are certain
effluences of existence?

  Men. Certainly.

  Soc. And passages into which and through which the effluences pass?

  Men. Exactly.

  Soc. And some of the effluences fit into the passages, and some of
them are too small or too large?

  Men. True.

  Soc. And there is such a thing as sight?

  Men. Yes.

  Soc. And now, as Pindar says, "read my meaning" colour is an
effluence of form, commensurate with sight, and palpable to sense.

  Men. That, Socrates, appears to me to be an admirable answer.

  Soc. Why, yes, because it happens to be one which you have been in
the habit of hearing: and your wit will have discovered, I suspect,
that you may explain in the same way the nature of sound and smell,
and of many other similar phenomena.

  Men. Quite true.

  Soc. The answer, Meno, was in the orthodox solemn vein, and
therefore was more acceptable to you than the other answer about
figure.

  Men. Yes.

  Soc. And yet, O son of Alexidemus, I cannot help thinking that the
other was the better; and I am sure that you would be of the same
opinion, if you would only stay and be initiated, and were not