issue; and he made an unintelligible attempt to hide his perplexity. In
order that the argument might proceed, I said to him, Well then Critias, if
you like, let us assume that there is this science of science; whether the
assumption is right or wrong may hereafter be investigated. Admitting the
existence of it, will you tell me how such a science enables us to
distinguish what we know or do not know, which, as we were saying, is
self-knowledge or wisdom: so we were saying?

Yes, Socrates, he said; and that I think is certainly true: for he who has
this science or knowledge which knows itself will become like the knowledge
which he has, in the same way that he who has swiftness will be swift, and
he who has beauty will be beautiful, and he who has knowledge will know.
In the same way he who has that knowledge which is self-knowing, will know
himself.

I do not doubt, I said, that a man will know himself, when he possesses
that which has self-knowledge: but what necessity is there that, having
this, he should know what he knows and what he does not know?

Because, Socrates, they are the same.

Very likely, I said; but I remain as stupid as ever; for still I fail to
comprehend how this knowing what you know and do not know is the same as
the knowledge of self.

What do you mean? he said.

This is what I mean, I replied: I will admit that there is a science of
science;--can this do more than determine that of two things one is and the
other is not science or knowledge?