§ 1  To Cn. Pompeius Geminus, with greetings.
I have received with great pleasure the scholarly letter you sent me. Zeno, our common friend, has supplied you (so you write) with a copy of my treatises. In going through them and making them your own, on the whole you admire them, but are dissatisfied, you say, with one portion of their contents, namely, the criticism of Plato. Now you are right in the reverence you feel for that writer, but not right in your view of my position. You may rest assured that I must be numbered among those who have fallen most completely under the spell of Plato’s gifts of expression. But I will explain to you my attitude towards all thinkers who are public benefactors and desire to reform our lives and words. And what is more, I mean to convince you that I have discovered nothing new, or startling, or contrary to the universally accepted view.
Now I think it is an author’s duty, when he elects to write a panegyric of some achievement or some person, to give prominence to merits rather than to any deficiencies.
But when he wishes to determine what is most excellent in some walk of life and what is the best among a number of deeds of the same class, he ought to apply the most rigorous investigation and to take account of every quality whether good or bad. For this is the surest way of discovering truth, than which there is no more precious boon. So much premised, I make a further declaration. If there is any writing of mine which, like the work of Zoilus the rhetorician, contains an attack upon Plato, I plead guilty of impiety. And if when my design is to write a eulogy of him I interweave some fault-finding with my praises, I admit that I am in the wrong and am transgressing the laws by which eulogies are governed among us. For in my opinion they should not contain even vindications, much less detractions. On the other hand, when after undertaking to examine varieties of style, together with their foremost representatives among philosophers and orators, I chose from the entire number three who are generally held to be the most brilliant—Isocrates and Plato and Demosthenes—and among these again I gave the preference to Demosthenes, I thought I did no wrong either to Plato or to Isocrates.
That may be, you say, but you should not have exposed the faults of Plato, in your desire to extol Demosthenes. How then would my argument have undergone the most searching test had I not compared the best discourses of Isocrates and Plato with the finest of Demosthenes, and thus shown with the utmost candour in what respect their discourses are inferior to his, not maintaining that those two writers were always at fault (for that would be sheer lunacy), but not maintaining, cither, that they were always and uniformly successful? If I had avoided this course, and had simply eulogised Demosthenes and detailed all his excellences, I should certainly have convinced my readers of the orator’s worth; but unless I had compared him with the best of his rivals, I should not have proved that he holds the very first place among all who have distinguished themselves in oratory. For many things which in themselves are thought beautiful and worthy of admiration appear to fall short of their reputation when set side by side with other things that are better. Thus gold when contrasted with other gold is found to be superior or inferior, and this is true of all manufactured articles, and of all objects designed to produce a brilliant effect.
But if in the province of civil oratory the comparative method of inquiry be judged ungracious, and a demand made for the examination of each writer individually, the same restriction will inevitably be introduced everywhere. Poetry will no longer be compared with poetry, nor historical treatise with historical treatise, nor constitution with constitution, nor law with law, general with general, king with king, life with life, tenet with tenet. And yet no reasonable man would acquiesce in this. But if you need also the proofs which personal testimonies supply, to render it more plain to you that the best mode of examination is the comparative, I will pass over all others and appeal to Plato himself as my witness. Desiring to exhibit his own proficiency in civil oratory, he was not satisfied with the rest of his writings, but [in rivalry with] the foremost orator of the time, himself composed in the Phaedrus another speech with Love as its subject. Nor after advancing so far did he pause and leave to his readers to decide which speech was the better, but he actually assailed the faults of Lysias, allowing that he had excellences of style, but attacking his treatment of subject-matter. Since, therefore, Plato when engaging in the most vulgar and most invidious of tasks, that of praising himself in respect of his oratorical power, thought he was doing nothing blameworthy in claiming that his own speeches should be examined side by side with those of the best orator of the day, and in exhibiting the errors of Lysias and his own merits, what is there so astonishing in my comparison of the speeches of Plato with those of Demosthenes and my scrutiny of anything I found amiss in them? I forbear to quote from his writings general!), in which he attacks his predecessors, Parmenides, Hippias, Protagoras, Prodicus, Gorgias, Polus, Theodorus, Thrasymachus and many others, not writing of them in a spirit of perfect fairness, but (you must pardon me for saying so) with a touch of vainglory. There was, there really was in Plato’s nature, with all its excellences, something of vainglory. He showed this particularly in his jealousy of Homer, whom he expels from his imaginary commonwealth, after crowning him with a garland and anointing him with myrrh . Strange indeed to suppose that Homer needed such compliments in the hour of his expulsion, when it is through him that every refinement, and in the end philosophy itself, passed into human life! But let us suppose that Plato said all this in a spirit of perfect fairness and simply in the interest of truth. What, then, was there to excite surprise in our action when we obeyed his ordinances, and wished to compare the discourses of his successors with his own ?
Furthermore, it will be seen that I am not the first and only critic that has ventured to speak his mind about Plato. Nor could anyone justly take me to task on the special ground that I essayed to examine the most distinguished of philosophers, and one more than a dozen generations earlier than myself, in the hope forsooth of obtaining some credit thereby. No, it will be found that many have done so before me, whether in his own time or at a much later date. For his tenets have met with disparagement and his discourses with criticism. First on the list is his most representative disciple Aristotle, and next Cephisodorus, Theopompus, Zoilus, Hippodamas, Demetrius, and many others. These did not attack him out of envy or malice, but in the search for truth. Encouraged accordingly by the example of so many eminent men, and above all of the great Plato himself, I considered that my action was in no way alien to the spirit of philosophic rhetoric when I matched good writers against good. As regards, therefore, the principle on which I acted in comparing style with style, I have defended myself sufficiently even in your eyes, my dear friend.

§ 2  I have now to refer to my actual remarks on Plato in the treatise on the Attic Orators. I will quote the passage in the words there written. ‘The language of Plato, as I have said before, aspires to unite two several styles, the elevated and the plain. But it does not succeed equally in both. When it uses the plain, simple, and unartificial mode of expression, it has an extraordinary charm and attraction. It is altogether pure and translucent, like the most transparent of streams, and it is correct and precise beyond that of any other writer who has adopted this mode of expression. It pursues familiar words and cultivates clearness, disdaining all extraneous ornament. The gentle and imperceptible lapse of time invests it with a mellow tinge of antiquity; it still blooms in all its radiant vigour and beauty; a balmy breeze is wafted from it as though from meadows full of the most fragrant odours; and its clear utterance seems to show as little trace of loquacity as its elegance of display. But when, as often happens, it rushes without restraint into unusual phraseology and embellished diction, it deteriorates greatly. For it loses in charm, in purity of idiom, in lightness of touch. It obscures what is clear and makes it like unto darkness; it conveys the meaning in a prolix and circuitous way. When concise expression is needed, it lapses into tasteless periphrases, displaying a wealth of words. Contemning the regular terms found in common use, it seeks after those which are newly-coined, strange, or archaic. It is in the sea of figurative diction that it labours most of all. For it abounds in epithets and ill-timed metonymies. It is harsh and loses sight of the point of contact in its metaphors. It affects long and frequent allegories devoid of measure and fitness. It revels, with juvenile and unseasonable pride, in the most wearisome poetical figures, particularly in those of Gorgias; and “ in matters of this kind there is a good deal of the hierophant about him,” as Demetrius of Phalerum has somewhere said as well as many others: for “not mine the word'-.”
‘Let no one suppose that I say this in general condemnation of the ornate and uncommon style which Plato adopts. I should be sorry to be so perverse as to conceive this opinion with respect to so great a man. On the contrary, I am well aware that often and on many subjects he has produced writings which arc great and admirable and of the utmost power. What I desire to show is that he is apt to commit errors of this description in his more ornate passages, and that he sinks below his own level when he pursues what is grand and exceptional in expression, and is far superior when he employs the language which is plain and exact and seems to be natural but is really elaborated with unoffending and simple artifice. For then he commits cither no errors at all or only such as are extremely slight and venial. My own view, however, is that so great a man should have been perpetually on his guard against any censure. Now all his contemporaries, whose names I need not recall, reproach him with the same fault; and the most striking thing is that he does so himself. He was aware of his own lapse from good taste and gave it the name of “dithyramb ”: a thing I had thought shame to say, true though it be. This trait in him appears to me to be due to the fact that, although he was bred among the Socratic dialogues, which were most spare and most exact, he did not continue under their influence, but became enamoured of the artificiality of Gorgias and Thucydides. It was, therefore, no unnatural result that he should imbibe some of the errors, together with the good points, exhibited by the styles of those authors.
‘I will cite examples of the plain and the elevated style from one of the most celebrated books, in which Socrates has addressed the discourses on Love to one of his associates, Phaedrus, from whom the book takes its title....’
In this passage I blame in no way the subject-matter of the writer, but the tendency’ in the department of expression to figurative and dithyrambic diction, matters wherein Plato loses command of the due mean. And I criticise him not as an ordinary mortal but as a great man who has come near the standard of the divine nature. His fault is that, in imitation of the school of Gorgias, he has introduced the pomp of poetical artifice into philosophical discourses, so that some of his productions are of the dithyrambic order. And what is more, he does not even attempt to hide this failing but avows it. It is clear from your own letter, excellent Geminus, that you yourself entertain the same opinion as I with regard to him. For you write thus, to quote your own words: In other forms of expression there may well occur something which deserves mingled praise and blame. But in embellishment whatever is not success is utter failure. So that, in my opinion, these men should be judged not by their few most hazardous attempts but by their many' successes V And a little later you add the following words: ‘Although I could defend all, or at any rate most, of these passages, I do not venture to gainsay’ you. But this one thing I strongly affirm, that it is not possible to succeed greatly’ in any way without such daring and recklessness as must needs fail now and then-.’ There is no quarrel between us. You admit that the man who aspires to great things must sometimes fail, while I say that Plato, in his desire for elevated and stately and audacious diction, did not succeed in every detail, but that his mistakes are nevertheless only a small fraction of his successes. And in this one respect, I say, Plato is inferior to Demosthenes, that with him elevation of diction sometimes lapses into emptiness and dreariness, whereas with Demosthenes this is never so, or only very rarely. Ί his is what I have to say with reference to Plato.

§ 3  You wished also to learn my view with regard to Herodotus and Xenophon, and you wished me to write about them. This I have done in the essays I have addressed to Demetrius on the subject of imitation. The first of these contains an abstract inquiry into the nature of imitation. The second asks what particular poets and philosophers, historians and orators, should be imitated. The third, which treats of the proper manner of imitation, remains unfinished. In the second I write as follow's concerning Herodotus, Thucydides, Xenophon, Philistus and Theopompus, these being the writers whom I select as most suitable for imitation:
These are my opinions concerning Herodotus and Thucydides, if I must extend my remarks to them. The first, and one may say the most necessary, task for writers of any kind of history is to choose a noble subject and one pleasing to their readers. In this Herodotus seems to me to have succeeded better than Thucydides. He has produced a national history of the conflict of Greeks and barbarians, ‘in order that neither should the deeds of men fade into oblivion, nor should achievements,’ to quote from his opening words. For this same proem forms both the beginning and the end of his History. Thucydides, on the other hand, writes of a single war, and that neither glorious nor fortunate; one which, best of all, should not have happened, or (failing that) should have been ignored by posterity and consigned to silence and oblivion. In his Introduction he makes it clear himself that he has chosen a bad subject, for he says that many cities of the Greeks were desolated because of the war, partly by the barbarians and partly by themselves, while proscriptions and massacres greater than any before known occurred, together with earthquakes and droughts and plagues and many other calamities-. The natural consequence is that readers of the Introduction feel an aversion to the subject, for it is of the misfortunes of Greece that they are about to hear. As clearly as the story of the wonderful deeds of Greeks and barbarians is superior to the story of the sad and terrible disasters of the Greeks, so clearly does Herodotus show better judgment than Thucydides in his choice of subject. Nor can it truthfully be said that Thucydides was driven, with full knowledge that the earlier events were grander, into this piece of writing by a desire not to treat of the same theme as others. On the contrary, he makes extremely’ light in his Introduction of the events of ancient days, and says that the achievements of his own time were the most remarkable. It is clear, therefore, that his choice was deliberate. Very different was the course taken by Herodotus. Although his predecessors, Hellanicus and Charon, had previously issued works on the same subject, he was not deterred, but trusted his own ability to produce something better. And this in fact he has done.
A second function of historical investigation is to determine where to begin and how far to proceed. In this respect, again, Herodotus displays far better judgment than Thucydides. He begins with the cause of the original injuries done to the Greeks by the barbarians, and goes on his way till he ends with the punishment and retribution which befell them. Thucydides, on the contrary, starts with the incipient decline of the Greek world. This should not have been done by a Greek and an Athenian, and (what is more) no unappreciated citizen but one to whom his countrymen assigned a foremost place, entrusting him with com-mands and offices generally. In his malice, he finds the overt causes of the war in the conduct of his own city, although he might have found many other grounds for the outbreak. He might have begun his narrative not with the affairs of Corcyra, but with the magnificent achievements of his country immediately after the Persian War, achievements which subsequently he mentions at the wrong point and in a perfunctory and cursory way. After he had described these events with all the enthusiasm of a patriot, he should then have added that it was through envy and dread thus occasioned that the Lacedaemonians were led to engage in the war, for which they suggested motives of a different nature. He should next have related the occurrences at Corcyra and the decree against the Megarians, together with anything else of the kind he wished to mention. The conclusion of his work is tainted by a more serious error. Although he states that he watched the entire course of the war and promises a complete account of it, yet he ends with the sea-fight which took place off Cynossema between the Athenians and Peloponnesians in the twenty-second year of the war. It would have been better, after he had described all the details of the war, to end his History with a most remarkable incident and one right pleasing to his hearers, the return of the exiles from Phyle, from which event dates the recovery of freedom by Athens.
A third task of the historian is to consider which occurrences he should embody in his work and which he should omit. In this respect, again, it seems to me that Thucydides is inferior. Herodotus, on his part, wished, in imitation of Homer, to give variety to his History, he was aware that every prolonged narrative affects the mind of the hearer pleasantly if it contains a number of pauses, but wearies and satiates (however successful it may otherwise be) if confined to one and the same series of events. If we take up his book, we are filled with admiration till the last syllable and always seek for more. Thucydides, on the other hand, in breathless haste and straining every nerve, describes a single war, heaping battle on battle, armament on armament, word on word. The hearer’s mind is in consequence exhausted.
‘Even honey,’ as Pindar says, ‘and the pleasant flowers of love bring satiety.’ Occasionally Thucydides has himself realised the truth of my contention that, in a historical writing, change is pleasant and gives variety, and he has taken this course in two or three passages—in inquiring into the cause of the growth of the Odrysian kingdom and in describing the cities of Sicily*.
Next it is the function of a historian so to arrange his materials that everything shall be found in its proper place. How, then, do these authors respectively arrange and divide what they have to say ? Thucydides keeps close to the chronological order, Herodotus to the natural grouping of events. Thucydides is found to be obscure and hard to follow. As naturally many events occur in different places in the course of the same summer or winter, he leaves half-finished his account of one set of affairs and takes other events in hand. Natural]y we are puzzled, and follow the narrative impatiently, as our attention is distracted. Herodotus, on the other hand, begins with the dominion of the Lydians and comes down to that of Croesus, and then passes at once to Cyrus who destroyed the empire of Croesus. Then he begins the story of Egypt, Scythia, and Libya. He relates some of the events as a sequel, takes up others as a missing link, and introduces others as likely to add to the charm of the narrative. Although he recounts affairs of Greeks and barbarians which occurred in the course of some two hundred and twenty years on the three continents and finally reaches the story of the flight of Xerxes, he does not break the continuity of the narrative. The general result is that, whereas Thucydides takes a single subject and divides one whole into many members, Herodotus has chosen a number of subjects, which are in no way alike, and has produced one harmonious whole.
I will mention one other feature of the treatment of subject-matter, a feature which in all histories we look for no less than for any of those already mentioned. I mean the attitude which the historian himself adopts towards the events which he describes. The attitude of Herodotus is fair throughout, showing pleasure in the good and grief at the bad. That of Thucydides, on the contrary, is severe and harsh and proves that he bears a grudge against his country because of his exile. For he details her misdeeds with the utmost exactitude, but when things go right, either he does not mention them at all, or only like a man under compulsion.
In subject-matter Thucydides is for these reasons inferior to Herodotus; in expression he is partly inferior, partly superior, partly equal. I will state my views on these points also.
The first of excellences is that without which style is of no worth in any of its aspects,—language pure in vocabulary and true to Greek idiom. In this respect both arc correct writers. Herodotus represents the highest standard of the Ionic dialect, Thucydides of the Attic....Third in order comes the so-called ‘concision.’ In this Thucydides is commonly held to excel Herodotus. It might, indeed, be objected that it is only when united with clearness that brevity is found to be attractive; if it fails in this, it is harsh. However, let us suppose that Thucydides is in no way inferior because of his obscurity. Vividness comes next in order as the first of the extraneous excellences. In this respect both authors are decidedly successful. After this excellence the imitation of traits of character, and of emotions, presents itself. Here the historians divide the credit, for Thucydides excels in expressing the emotions, whilst Herodotus has greater skill in representing aspects of character. Next come the excellences which exhibit loftiness and grandeur of composition. Here, again, the historians are on a par. Then come the excellences which comprise strength and energy and similar qualities of style. In these Thucydides is superior to Herodotus. But in grace, persuasiveness, charm and the like excellences, Herodotus is far superior to Thucydides. In his choice of language Herodotus aims at naturalness, Thucydides at intensity. Of all literary virtues the most important is propriety. In this Herodotus is more careful than Thucydides, who everywhere (and in his speeches still more than in his narrative) shows a want of variety. My friend Caecilius, however, thinks with me that his enthymemes have been imitated and emulated in a special degree by Demosthenes. It may be said in general that the poetical compositions (as I should not shrink from calling them) of both are beautiful. The chief point of difference is that the beauty of Herodotus is radiant, that of Thucydides awe-inspiring. Enough has been said about these historians, although much more could be said, for which there will be another opportunity.

§ 4  Xenophon and Philistus, who flourished at a later time than these writers, did not resemble one another either in nature or in principles. Xenophon was an emulator of Herodotus in both kinds, matter and language. In the first place, the historical subjects he chose are fine and impressive and such as befit a philosopher: the Education of Cyrus, the portrait of a good and prosperous king; the Expedition of the Younger Cyrus, in which Xenophon, who himself took part in the campaign, extols so highly the bravery of the Greek auxiliaries; and also the Greek History, the story which Thucydides left unfinished, in which are described the overthrow of ‘the Thirty’ and the restoration of the Athenian walls razed by the Lacedaemonians. It is not only for his subjects, chosen in emulation of Herodotus, that Xenophon deserves commendation, but also for his arrangement of his material. Everywhere he begins and ends in the most fitting and appropriate way. His divisions are good, and so is his order and the variety' of his writing. He displays piety, rectitude, resolution, geniality, in a word all the virtues which adorn the character. Such is the manner in which he deals with his subject-matter.
In expression he is partly like Herodotus, partly inferior. He resembles him in marked purity and lucidity of vocabulary; he chooses terms that are familiar and consonant to the theme: and he puts them together with no less charm and grace than Herodotus, but Herodotus also possesses elevation and beauty and stateliness and what is specifically called the ‘historical vein.’ Not only was Xenophon powerless to borrow this from him, but if occasionally he wishes to enliven his style, like a land-breeze he blows but for a short time and quickly drops. Indeed, in many passages he is unduly long. So far from equaling the success of Herodotus in adapting his language to his characters, he is found on strict examination to be often careless in this respect.

§ 5  Philistus would seem to resemble Thucydides more nearly and to have the same general stamp. Like Thucydides, he has not taken a subject of great utility and public interest, but a single and local one. He has divided it into two parts, entitling the former ‘Concerning Sicily,’ the latter ‘Concerning Dionysius.’ But the subject is one, as may be seen from the conclusion of the Sicilian section. He has not presented his narrative in the best order, but has made it hard to follow; his arrangement is inferior to that of Thucydides. No more than Thucydides docs he desire to admit extraneous matter, and he is therefore wanting in variety. He displays a character which is obsequious, subservient, mean, and petty. He shuns what is peculiar and curious in the style of Thucydides, and reproduces what is rounded and terse and enthymematic. He falls, however, very far behind the beauty of language and the wealth of enthymemes found in Thucydides. And not only in these respects is he inferior, but also in his composition. The style of Thucydides is full of variety, a fact which is so obvious that I consider it needs no further demonstration. Hut the language of Philistus is exceedingly uniform and lacking in variety. Many successive sentences will be found to be constructed by him in the same way. For example, at the beginning of the Second Book of his Sicilian History: ‘The Syracusans having associated with themselves the Megarians and Ennaeans, and the Camarinaeans having mustered the Sicels and the rest of the allies except the Geloans (now the Geloans said that they would not wage war against the Syracusans); and the Syracusans learning that the Camarinaeans had crossed the Hyrminus all this is to me obviously most displeasing. He is trivial and commonplace whatever his subject may be, whether he describes sieges or settlements, whether he deals in eulogium or in censure. Moreover, he does not write speeches worthy of the greatness of the speakers, but he makes even his parliamentary orators, one and all, abandon in a panic alike their faculties and their principles. He possesses, however, a sort of natural euphony of style and a well-balanced judgment. And he is a better model for actual pleadings than Thucydides.

§ 6  Theopompus of Chios was the most celebrated of all the disciples of Isocrates. He composed many panegyrics and many deliberative speeches, as well as the ‘Chian’ Letters and some noteworthy treatises. As a student of history he deserves praise on several grounds. His historical subjects are both good, one of them embracing the conclusion of the Peloponnesian War, the other the career of Philip. His arrangement, also, is good, being in both cases lucid and easy to follow. Especially admirable are the care and industry which mark his historical writing, for it is clear, even if he had said nothing to that effect, that he prepared himself most fully for his task and incurred heavy expense in the collection of his material. Moreover, he was an eye-witness of many events, and came in contact with many leading men and generals of his day, whether popular leaders or more cultivated persons. All this he did in order to improve his History. For he did not (as some do) consider the recording of his researches as a pastime, but as the one thing needful in life. The trouble he took may be inferred from the comprehensiveness of his work, he has related the foundation of nations, described the establishment of cities, portrayed royal lives and peculiar customs, and incorporated in his work everything wonderful or strange found on any land or sea. Nor must it be supposed that this is merely a form of entertainment. It is not so. Such particulars are, it may in general be said, of the greatest utility.
In fine, who will not admit that it is necessary for the votaries of philosophic rhetoric to study the various customs both of foreigners and of Greeks, to hear about various laws and forms of government, the lives of men and their actions, their deaths and fortunes ? For such votaries he has provided material in all plenty, not divorced from the events narrated, but in close connexion with them. All these qualities of the historian are worthy of admiration. The same may be said of the philosophical reflections scattered throughout his History, for he has many· fine observations on justice, piety, and the rest of the virtues. There remains his crowning and most characteristic quality, one which is found developed with equal care and effect in no other writer, whether of the older or the younger generation. And what is this quality? It is the gift of seeing and stating in each case not only what is obvious to the multitude, but of examining even the hidden motives of actions and actors and the feelings of the soul (things not easily discerned by the crowd), and of laying bare all the mysteries of seeming virtue and undiscovered vice. Indeed, I can well believe that the fabled examination, before the judges in the other world, of souls in Hades when separated from the body is of the same searching kind as that which is conducted by means of the writings of Theopompus. In consequence he was thought malicious on the ground that, where reproaches against distinguished persons were necessary, he added un-necessary details; while in truth he acted like surgeons who cut and cauterize the morbid parts of the system, carrying their operations far down, and yet in no way assailing the healthy and normal organs. Such is an account of the way in which Theopompus deals with his subject-matter.
In style he is most like to Isocrates. His diction is pure, familiar and clear; it is elevated, grand, and full of stateliness; it is formed according to the middle harmony, having a pleasant and easy flow. It differs from that of Isocrates in pungency and energy in some passages, when he gives free play to his emotions, and particularly when he taxes cities or generals with evil counsels and unjust actions. In such criticisms he abounds, and befalls not one whit behind the intensity of Demosthenes, as may be seen from many other writings and from his Chian Letters, in composing which he has obeyed his native instincts. If in the passages on which he has bestowed the greatest pains, he had paid less attention to the blending of vowels, the measured cadence of periods, and the uniformity of constructions, he would have far surpassed himself in expression.
He is also guilty of errors in the sphere of subject-matter, and particularly in regard to his digressions, some of which are neither necessary nor opportune, but childish in the extreme. An instance is the story of the Silenus who appeared in Macedonia, and that of the fight between the serpent and the galley, and not a few other things of the kind.
The study of these historians will suffice to furnish to those who practise civil oratory a suitable fund of examples for every variety of style.