philosophical dogmas of Plato, nor would he have risen so often to the
language and topics of poetry, had he not engaged heart and soul in a
contest for precedence with Homer, like a young champion entering the
lists against a veteran. It may be that he showed too ambitious a spirit
in venturing on such a duel; but nevertheless it was not without
advantage to him: “for strife like this,” as Hesiod says, “is good for
men.”[2] And where shall we find a more glorious arena or a nobler crown
than here, where even defeat at the hands of our predecessors is not
ignoble?

[Footnote 2: _Opp._ 29.]


XIV

Therefore it is good for us also, when we are labouring on some subject
which demands a lofty and majestic style, to imagine to ourselves how
Homer might have expressed this or that, or how Plato or Demosthenes
would have clothed it with sublimity, or, in history, Thucydides. For by
our fixing an eye of rivalry on those high examples they will become
like beacons to guide us, and will perhaps lift up our souls to the
fulness of the stature we conceive.

2
And it would be still better should we try to realise this further
thought, How would Homer, had he been here, or how would Demosthenes,
have listened to what I have written, or how would they have been
affected by it? For what higher incentive to exertion could a writer
have than to imagine such judges or such an audience of his works, and
to give an account of his writings with heroes like these to criticise