Demosthenes · Isocrates · Lysias — Selected Speeches

Contents — 11 sections

1. Sections 1–5
2. Sections 6–10
3. Sections 11–15
4. Sections 16–20
5. Sections 21–25
6. Sections 26–30
7. Sections 31–35
8. Sections 36–40
9. Sections 41–45
10. Sections 46–50
11. Section 51

Sections 1–5

If the question before us were a new one, men of Athens, I should have waited until most of the regular speakers had delivered their opinions, and if satisfied with any of their proposals, I should have remained silent, but if not satisfied, I should then have tried to express my own views. Since, however, it is our fortune to be still debating a point on which they have often spoken before, I can safely claim your indulgence if I am the first to rise and address you. For if in the past their advice had been sound, there would be no need for deliberation today.

Now in the first place, Athenians, there is no need to despair of our present position, however hopeless it may seem. For that which is worst in the days that are past and gone is just what affords the best assurance for the future. And what is that? It is that your affairs are in this evil plight just because you, men of Athens, utterly fail to do your duty; since surely, were you so placed in spite of every effort on your part, it would be hopeless to look for improvement.

In the next place, bear this in mind. Some of you have been told, others know and remember, how formidable the Spartans were, not many years ago, and yet how at the call of honor and duty you played a part not unworthy of your country, and entered the lists against them in defence of your rights. I remind you of this, Athenians, because I want you to know and realize that, as no danger can assail you while you are on your guard, so if you are remiss no success can attend you. Learn a lesson from the former strength of the Lacedaemonians, which you mastered by strict attention to your affairs, and the present arrogance of our enemy, which discomposes us because we ignore every call of duty.

But if anyone here, Athenians, is inclined to think Philip too formidable, having regard to the extent of his existing resources and to our loss of all our strongholds, he is indeed right, yet he must reflect that we too, men of Athens, once held Pydna, Potidaea, and Methone and had in our own hands all the surrounding territory, and that many of the native tribes now in his service were then free and independent and were indeed more inclined to side with us than with Philip.

If, therefore, Philip had then come to the conclusion that it was a difficult task to fight the Athenians while they held such strong outposts in his own territory and he was destitute of allies, in that case he would never have gained his present successes, never acquired his present power. But, men of Athens, Philip saw clearly that all these outposts were but the open prizes of war, that by natural right the property of the absent belongs to those who are on the spot, and the property of the careless to those who can face toil and danger.

Sections 6–10

It was precisely by acting on this principle that he has mastered and now holds them all. Some he has seized by right of arms, others he has won by alliance and friendship. For indeed alliance and respect are willingly offered by all men to those whom they see ready and prompt to take action.

And you too, men of Athens, if you are willing to adopt this principle, now if never before, if each citizen is ready to throw off his diffidence and serve the state as he ought and as he best may, the rich man paying, the strong man fighting, if, briefly and plainly, you will consent to become your own masters, and if each man will cease to expect that, while he does nothing himself, his neighbor will do everything for him, then, God willing, you will recover your own, you will restore what has been frittered away, and you will turn the tables upon Philip.

Do not believe that his present power is fixed and unchangeable like that of a god. No, men of Athens; he is a mark for the hatred and fear and envy even of those who now seem devoted to him. One must assume that even his adherents are subject to the same passions as any other men. At present, however, all these feelings are repressed and have no outlet, thanks to your indolence and apathy, which I urge you to throw off at once.

For observe, Athenians, the height to which the fellow’s insolence has soared; he leaves you no choice of action or inaction; he blusters and talks big, according to all accounts; he cannot rest content with what he has conquered; he is always taking in more, everywhere casting his net round us, while we sit idle and do nothing.

When, Athenians, will you take the necessary action? What are you waiting for? Until you are compelled, I presume. But what are we to think of what is happening now? For my own part I think that for a free people there can be no greater compulsion than shame for their position. Or tell me, are you content to run round and ask one another, Is there any news today? Could there be any news more startling than that a Macedonian is triumphing over Athenians and settling the destiny of Hellas?

Sections 11–15

Is Philip dead? you ask. No, indeed; but he is ill. And what is that to you? Even if something happens to him, you will soon raise up a second Philip, if that is the way you attend to your affairs; for even this Philip has not grown great through his own unaided strength so much as through our carelessness.

Nor is this all. If anything happened to him, or if Fortune, which always cares for us better than we care for ourselves, should bring that result about, remember that you must be on the spot if you want to take advantage of the general confusion and to control the situation at your pleasure; but in your present condition you would be unable, even if the opportunity offered, to take over Amphipolis, having neither a force nor a policy ready to hand.

Well, assuming that you are thoroughly convinced that you must all be ready and willing to make this necessary effort, I say no more on that point. But as to the nature and size of the force which I think adequate to relieve the situation, the means of defraying the cost, and the best and speediest method of providing for its equipment, I shall now endeavor to state my views, making just this appeal to you, Athenians.

Wait till you have heard everything before you pass judgement. Do not be premature; and even if at the outset I seem to be suggesting a novel kind of expeditionary force, do not imagine that I am trying to postpone our operations. It is not those who cry at once or today that really speak to the purpose, for no dispatch of forces now could prevent what has already happened;

but it is the man who can indicate the nature, the size, and the source of the expedition that will be able to keep the field until we either defeat the enemy or consent to a termination of hostilities; for that is how we shall avoid trouble in the future. Now I believe that I can indicate this, without prejudice to anyone else’s proposal. That is a bold promise, but it will soon be put to a practical test, and you shall be my judges.

Sections 16–20

First then, men of Athens, I propose to equip fifty war-galleys; next you must make up your minds to embark and sail in them yourselves, if necessary. Further I recommend the provision of transports and other vessels, sufficient for the conveyance of half our cavalry.

All this is a necessary provision against Philip’s sudden raids from Macedonia against Thermopylae, the Chersonese, Olynthus, or where he will. You must present to his mind the consideration that you may possibly shake off your excessive apathy and strike out as you did at Euboea, and before that, as we are told, at Haliartus, and quite recently at Thermopylae.

That, even if you should not act as I, personally, think you ought, is not an altogether trivial matter; for its purpose is that he may either hold his hand through fear, knowing that you are on the alert—he will know it sure enough, for there are some on our side, yes, too many, who report everything to him—or that he may overlook it and so be taken off his guard, provided there is nothing to hinder you from sailing against his country, if he gives you the chance.

Such, in my opinion, are the resolutions which you ought to adopt, and the force which must be equipped, at once. But in addition to this, Athenians, I propose that you should get ready a corps to carry on a continuous war of annoyance against Philip. Not an imposing army—on paper—of ten or twenty thousand mercenaries! It shall be a real Athenian contingent, and whether you appoint one general or more, whether it is this man or that or the other, him it shall strictly follow and obey. I also urge you to provide for its maintenance.

And what will this force be, and how large? How will it be maintained, and how far will it consent to effect its purpose? I will tell you, describing each detail separately. Of mercenaries I propose—and beware of the mistake that has so often thwarted your efforts. Thinking that the utmost is too little for the occasion, you choose the biggest scheme in your resolutions, but when it comes to performance, you fail to realize even the smallest. You should rather act and provide on a small scale, adding more if this proves insufficient.

Sections 21–25

So I propose that the whole force should consist of two thousand men, but of these five hundred must be Athenians, chosen from any suitable age and serving in relays for a specified period—not a long one, but just so long as seems advisable; the rest should be mercenaries. Attached to them will be two hundred cavalry, fifty at least of them being Athenians, serving on the same terms as the infantry. There will also be cavalry transports provided.

So far, so good; and what besides? Ten fast-sailing war-galleys. Since Philip has a fleet, we must have fast vessels if our force is to sail in safety. Now how is this army to be maintained? That also I will explain fully, when I have told you why I think so small a force sufficient, and why I insist that those serving shall be citizens.

I name a force of this size, Athenians, because it is not in our power now to provide one fit to meet him in pitched battle: we must adopt guerilla tactics to start with. The force must therefore be neither unwieldy—for we cannot afford the pay and maintenance—nor altogether insignificant.

My reasons for insisting on the presence of citizens in the expedition are these. I am told that on a previous occasion the state maintained a mercenary force at Corinth, commanded by Polystratus, Iphicrates, Chabrias, and others, and that you citizens also served in person; and I know from history that you and these mercenaries, fighting shoulder to shoulder, beat the Lacedaemonians in the field. But ever since exclusively mercenary forces have been fighting for you, it is your friends and allies that they have beaten, while the power of your enemies has increased beyond bounds. They cast a casual glance at the war for which Athens has hired them, and off they sail to join Artabazus or anyone else, and the general naturally follows them, for he cannot command if he does not pay.

What then do I recommend? Deprive both general and men of all excuse by providing pay and by attaching to them citizen soldiers as overseers, so to speak, of their conduct in the field; for at present our system is a mockery. If anyone asked you, Are you at peace, Athenians? you would reply, Certainly not; we are at war with Philip.

Sections 26–30

But have you not been electing from among yourselves ten brigadiers and ten generals and ten squadron—leaders and a couple of cavalry-commanders? And what, pray, are those officers doing? With the exception of the solitary one whom you dispatch to the seat of war, they are all busy helping the state-sacrificers to marshal your processions. You are like the men who model the clay puppets; you choose your brigadiers and commanders for the market-place, not for the field.

What! Ought there not to be brigadiers and a cavalry-commander, all chosen from among yourselves, native Athenian officers, that the force might be a truly national one? Yes, but your own cavalry-commander has to sail to Lemnos, leaving Menelaus to command the men who are fighting for our city’s possessions. I do not say this in his disparagement, but that commander, whoever he is, ought to be one elected by you.

You think perhaps that this is a sound proposal, but you are chiefly anxious to hear what the cost will be and how it will be raised. I now proceed to deal with that point. As to the cost then: the maintenance, the bare rationing of this force, comes to rather more than ninety talents; for the ten fast galleys forty talents, or twenty minae a ship every month; for two thousand men the same amount, that each may receive ten drachmas a month ration-money; for the two hundred cavalry twelve talents, if each is to receive thirty drachmas a month.

If anyone imagines that ration-money for the men on active service is only a small provision to start with, he is wrong; for I feel quite sure that if no more than that is forthcoming, the force itself will provide the rest out of the war, so as to make up their pay without injury to any Greek or allied community. I am ready to embark as a volunteer and submit to any punishment, if this is not so. I will now tell you the sources from which the sums may be derived which I recommend you to provide.

Memorandum of Ways and Means

This is the scheme, Athenians, which my colleagues and I have been able to contrive. When you give your votes, you will pass these proposals, if you approve them, because your object is to fight Philip not only with decrees and dispatches, but with deeds also.

Sections 31–35

But you would, I think, men of Athens, form a better idea of the war and of the total force required, if you considered the geography of the country you are attacking, and if you reflected that the winds and the seasons enable Philip to gain most of his successes by forestalling us. He waits for the Etesian winds or for the winter, and attacks at a time when we could not possibly reach the seat of war.

Bearing this in mind, we must rely not on occasional levies, or we shall be too late for everything, but on a regular standing army. You have the advantage of winter bases for your troops in Lemnos, Thasos, Sciathos, and the neighboring islands, where are to be found harbors, provisions, and everything that an army needs; and during that season of the year when it is easy to stand close in to shore and the winds are steady, your force will easily lie off his coast and at the mouth of his seaports.

How and when this force is to be employed will be a matter for your duly appointed commander to determine according to circumstances, but what it is your task to provide, that I have put down in my resolution. If, men of Athens, you first provide the funds which I name and then equip the whole force complete, men, ships and cavalry, binding them legally to serve for the duration of the war, and if you make yourselves the stewards and administrators of the funds, looking to your general for an account of his operations, then you will no longer be for ever debating the same question and never making any progress.

More than that, Athenians, you will be depriving Philip of his principal source of revenue. And what is that? For the war against you he makes your allies pay by raiding their sea-borne commerce. Is there any further advantage? Yes, you will be out of reach of injury yourselves. Your past experience will not be repeated, when he threw a force into Lemnos and Imbros and carried your citizens away captive, when he seized the shipping at Geraestus and levied untold sums, or, to crown all, when he landed at Marathon and bore away from our land the sacred trireme, while you are still powerless to prevent these insults or to send your expeditions at the appointed times.

And yet, men of Athens, how do you account for the fact that the Panathenaic festival and the Dionysia are always held at the right date, whether experts or laymen are chosen by lot to manage them, that larger sums are lavished upon them than upon any one of your expeditions, that they are celebrated with bigger crowds and greater splendor than anything else of the kind in the world, whereas your expeditions invariably arrive too late, whether at Methone or at Pagasae or at Potidaea?

Sections 36–40

The explanation is that at the festivals everything is ordered by statute; every man among you knows long beforehand who of his tribe is to provide the chorus or who to equip the gymnasium, what he is to receive, when and from whom he is to receive it, and what he is to do; nothing here is left to chance, nothing is undetermined: but in what pertains to war and its equipment, everything is ill-arranged, ill-managed, ill-defined. Consequently we wait till we have heard some piece of news, and then we appoint our ship-masters, and arrange suits for exchange of property, and go into committee of ways and means, and next we resolve that the fleet shall be manned by resident aliens and freedmen,

then again by citizens, then by substitutes, then, while we thus delay, the object of our cruise is already lost. Thus the time for action is wasted in preparation, but the opportunities of fortune wait not for our dilatoriness and reluctance. The forces which we fancied would serve us as a stop-gap prove incapable when the crucial moment arrives. Meanwhile Philip has the effrontery to send such letters as these to the Euboeans.

Reading of the Letter

Most of what has been read, Athenians, is unfortunately true—possibly, however, not pleasant to listen to. But if all that a speaker passes over, to avoid giving offence, is passed over by the course of events also, then blandiloquence is justified; but if smooth words out of season prove a curse in practice, then it is our disgrace if we hoodwink ourselves, if we shelve whatever is irksome and so miss the time for action,

if we fail to learn the lesson that to manage a war properly you must not follow the trend of events but must forestall them, and that just as an army looks to its general for guidance, so statesmen must guide circumstances, if they are to carry out their policy and not be forced to follow at the heels of chance.

But you, Athenians, possessing unsurpassed resources—fleet, infantry, cavalry, revenues—have never to this very day employed them aright, and yet you carry on war with Philip exactly as a barbarian boxes. The barbarian, when struck, always clutches the place; hit him on the other side and there go his hands. He neither knows nor cares how to parry a blow or how to watch his adversary.

Sections 41–45

So you, if you hear of Philip in the Chersonese, vote an expedition there; if at Thermopylae, you vote one there; if somewhere else, you still keep pace with him to and fro. You take your marching orders from him; you have never framed any plan of campaign for yourselves, never foreseen any event, until you learn that something has happened or is happening. All this was once perhaps possible; now things have come to a crisis, so that it is no longer in your power.

It seems to me, Athenians, as if some god, out of very shame for the conduct of our city, had inspired Philip with this activity. For if he did nothing more, but were willing to rest satisfied with what he has already captured and subdued, I believe some of you would be quite content with what must bring the deepest disgrace upon us and brand us as a nation of cowards. But by always attempting something new, always grasping at more power, he may possibly rouse even you, if you have not utterly abandoned hope.

Personally I am surprised that none of you, Athenians, is distressed and angry to find that at the beginning of the war our aim was to punish Philip, but at the end it is to escape injury at his hands. But surely it is obvious that he will not stop, unless someone stops him. And is that what we are to wait for? Do you fancy that all is well, if you dispatch an unmanned fleet and the vague hope of some deliverer?

Shall we not man the fleet ourselves? Shall we not take the field with at least a proportion of native troops, even now, if never before? Shall we not sail against his territory? Where then are we to go and anchor? someone has asked. The progress of the war, men of Athens, will itself discover the weak places in his front, if we make the effort; but if we sit here at home listening to the abuse and mutual recriminations of the orators, there is not the slightest chance of our getting anything done that ought to be done.

Wherever, I believe, we send out a force composed partly or wholly of our citizens, there the gods are gracious and fortune fights on our side; but wherever you send out a general with an empty decree and the mere aspirations of this platform, your needs are not served, your enemies laugh you to scorn, your allies stand in mortal fear of such an expeditionary force.

Sections 46–50

It is impossible, utterly impossible for one man ever to do all that you want done; he can only promise and assent and throw the blame on someone else. In consequence our interests are ruined. For when your general leads wretched, ill-paid mercenaries, and finds plenty of men here to lie to you about what he has done, while you pass decrees at random on the strength of these reports, what are you to expect?

How then is all this to be stopped? As soon as you, men of Athens, definitely appoint the same men as soldiers and as eye-witnesses of the campaign, and, on their return, as jurymen at the audit of your generals. In this way you will not merely learn about your affairs by hearsay, but you will be witnesses on the spot. So scandalous is our present system that every general is tried two or three times for his life in your courts, but not one of them dares to risk death in battle against the enemy; no, not once. They prefer the doom of a kidnapper or a pickpocket to a fitting death; for malefactors are condemned to the gallows, generals should die on the field of honor.

Some of us spread the rumor that Philip is negotiating with the Lacedaemonians for the overthrow of Thebes and the dissolution of the free states, others that he has sent an embassy to the Great King, others that he is besieging towns in Illyria; in short, each of us circulates his own piece of fiction.

Truly, men of Athens, I do think that Philip is drunk with the magnitude of his achievements and dreams of further triumphs, when, elated by his success, he finds that there is none to bar his way; but I cannot for a moment believe that he is deliberately acting in such a way that all the fools at Athens know what he is going to do next. For of all fools the rumor-mongers are the worst.

But if, putting rumors aside, we recognize that this man is our enemy, who has for years been robbing and insulting us, that wherever we once hoped to find help we have found hindrance, that the future lies in our own hands, and if we refuse to fight now in Thrace, we shall perhaps be forced to fight here at home—if, I say, we recognize these facts, then we shall have done with idle words and shall come to a right decision. Our business is not to speculate on what the future may bring forth, but to be certain that it will bring disaster, unless you face the facts and consent to do your duty.

Section 51

For my own part, I have never yet chosen to court your favor by saying anything that I was not quite convinced would be to your advantage; and today, keeping nothing back, I have given free utterance to my plain sentiments. Yet, certain as I am that it is to your interest to receive the best advice, I could have wished that I were equally certain that to offer such advice is also to the interest of the speaker; for then I should have felt much happier. But, as it is, in the uncertainty of what the result of my proposal may be for myself, yet in the conviction that it will be to your interest to adopt it, I have ventured to address you. Whatever shall be to the advantage of all, may that prevail!

Contents — 8 sections

1. Sections 1–5
2. Sections 6–10
3. Sections 11–15
4. Sections 16–20
5. Sections 21–25
6. Sections 26–30
7. Sections 31–35
8. Sections 36–37

Sections 1–5

Whenever, men of Athens, we are discussing Philip’s intrigues and his violations of the peace, I observe that all the speeches on our side are manifestly inspired by justice and generosity, and those who denounce Philip are all felt to be saying exactly the right thing; but of the much needed action, which alone would make the speeches worth hearing, little or nothing ensues.

Unfortunately all our national affairs have now reached to such a pass, that the more completely and manifestly Philip is convicted of violating the peace with us and of plotting against the whole of Greece, the more difficult it is to suggest the right course of action.

The reason, Athenians, is this. Though all who aim at their own aggrandizement must be checked, not by speeches, but by practical measures, yet, in the first place, we who come before you shrink from any definite proposal or advice, being reluctant to incur your displeasure; we prefer to dilate on Philip’s shocking behavior and the like topics; and, secondly, you who sit here are indeed better equipped than Philip for making speeches about justice and for appreciating them in the mouth of another, but, when it comes to hindering the accomplishment of his present plans, you remain utterly inactive.

The result is, I suppose, inevitable and perhaps reasonable. Where either side devotes its time and energy, there it succeeds the better—Philip in action, but you in argument. So if you still think it enough to employ the sounder arguments, that is easy; your task entails no trouble.

But if you have to devise means whereby our present fortunes shall be repaired, and their further decline shall not take us completely by surprise, and we shall not be confronted by a mighty power which we shall be unable even to withstand, then our method of deliberation must be changed, and all who speak and all who listen must choose the best and safest policy instead of the easiest and most agreeable.

Sections 6–10

In the first place, Athenians, if anyone views with confidence the present power of Philip and the extent of his dominions, if anyone imagines that all this imports no danger to our city and that you are not the object of his preparations, I must express my astonishment, and beg you all alike to listen to a brief statement of the considerations that have led me to form the opposite conclusion and to regard Philip as our enemy. Then, if you think me the better prophet, adopt my advice; if you prefer those who have so confidently trusted him, give them your allegiance.

Now I, men of Athens, reason thus. What did Philip first get under his control after the Peace? Thermopylae and the Phocian government. Well, what did he make of these? He chose to act in the interests of Thebes, not of Athens. And why so? Because, I believe, guided in his calculations by ambition and the desire of universal dominion, regardless of the claims of peace and quietness and justice,

he rightly saw that to our city and our national character he could offer nothing, he could do nothing, that would tempt you from selfish motives to sacrifice to him any of the other Greek states, but that you, reverencing justice, shrinking from the discredit involved in such transactions, and exercising due and proper forethought, would resist any such attempt on his part as stoutly as if you were actually at war with him.

But as to the Thebans, he believed—and the event justified him—that in return for benefits received they would give him a free hand for the future and, so far from opposing or thwarting him, would even join forces with him, if he so ordered. Today, on the same assumption, he is doing the Messenians and the Argives a good turn. That, men of Athens, is the highest compliment he could pay you.

For by these very acts you stand judged the one and only power in the world incapable of abandoning the common rights of the Greeks at any price, incapable of bartering your devotion to their cause for any favor or any profit. And it was natural that he should form this opinion of you and the contrary opinion of the Argives and Thebans, because he not merely looks to the present, but also draws a lesson from the past.

Sections 11–15

For I suppose he learns from history and from report that your ancestors, when they might, at the price of submission to the Great King, have become the paramount power in Greece, not only refused to entertain that proposal, conveyed to them by Alexander, an ancestor of Philip’s line, but chose to quit their homes and endure every hardship, and thereafter wrought those deeds which all men are always eager to relate, though no one has ever been able to tell them worthily; and therefore I shall not be wrong in passing them over, for they are indeed great beyond any man’s power of speech. On the other hand, he learns that the ancestors of these Thebans and Argives either fought for the barbarians or did not fight against them.

He knows, then, that they both will pursue their private interests, irrespective of the common advantage of the Greeks. So he thought that if he chose you, he would be choosing friends, and that your friendship would be based on justice; but that if he attached himself to the others, he would find in them the tools of his own ambition. That is why, now as then, he chooses them rather than you. For surely it is not that he regards their fleets as superior to ours, nor that, having discovered some inland empire, he has abandoned the seaboard with its harbors, nor yet that he has a short memory for the speeches and the promises that gained for him the Peace.

But it may be urged, by someone who claims to know all about it, that he acted on that occasion, not from ambition or from any of those motives with which I find fault, but because the claims of the Thebans were more just than ours. Now that is precisely the one argument that he cannot use now. What! The man who orders the Lacedaemonians to give up their claims to Messene, how could he pretend that he handed over Orchomenus and Coronea to Thebes because he thought it an act of justice?

But, it will be urged (for there is this excuse left), he was forced to yield against his better judgement, finding himself hemmed in between the Thessalian cavalry and the Theban heavy infantry. Good! So they say he is waiting to regard the Thebans with suspicion, and some circulate a rumor that he will fortify Elatea.

That is just what he is waiting to do, and will go on waiting, in my opinion. But he is not waiting to help the Messenians and Argives against the Lacedaemonians: he is actually dispatching mercenaries and forwarding supplies, and he is expected in person with a large force. What! The Lacedaemonians, the surviving enemies of Thebes, he is engaged in destroying; the Phocians, whom he has himself already destroyed, he is now engaged in preserving! And who is prepared to believe that?

Sections 16–20

For my part I do not believe that Philip, if he acted in the first place reluctantly and under compulsion, or if he were now inclined to throw the Thebans over, would be persistently opposing their enemies. But if we may judge from his present conduct, it is plain that on that occasion also he acted from deliberate choice, and everything, if correctly observed, points to the fact that all his intrigues are directed against Athens.

And today at any rate this policy is in a measure forced upon him. For observe! He wants to rule, and he has made up his mind that you, and you only, are his rivals. He has long injured you; of nothing is he more conscious than of that. For it is by holding the cities which are really yours that he retains safe possession of all the rest, and he feels that if he gave up Amphipolis and Potidaea, his own country would not be safe for him.

He knows, then, these two facts—that he is intriguing against you and that you are aware of it. Assuming that you are intelligent, he thinks you are bound to hate him, and he is on the alert, expecting some blow to fall, if you can seize an opportunity and if he cannot get in his blow first.

That is why he is wide awake and ready to strike, and why he is courting certain people to the detriment of our city—Thebans, I mean, and those Peloponnesians who share their views. He imagines that their cupidity will lead them to accept the present situation, while their natural dullness will prevent them from foreseeing anything that may follow. Yet men of even moderate intelligence might perceive some clear indications, which I had occasion to point out to the Messenians and the Argives, and which may perhaps with advantage be repeated to you.

Can you not imagine, I said, addressing the Messenians, how annoyed the Olynthians would have been to hear a word said against Philip in the days when he was handing over to them Anthemus, to which all the former kings of Macedonia laid claim, when he was making them a present of Potidaea, expelling the Athenian settlers, and when he had taken upon himself the responsibility of a quarrel with us and had given them the territory of Potidaea for their own use? Do you imagine they expected to be treated as they have been, or would have believed anyone who suggested it?

Sections 21–25

Nevertheless, said I, after a brief enjoyment of other men’s territory, they have long been robbed by Philip of their own, expelled with contumely, not merely vanquished but betrayed, bought and sold by their own country-men. For truly such close communications with tyranny corrupt good constitutions.

And what of the Thessalians? Do you imagine, I said, that when he was expelling their despots, or again when he was presenting them with Nicaea and Magnesia, they ever dreamed that a Council of Ten would be established among them, as it is today, or that the same man who restored to them the Amphictyonic meeting at Thermopylae would also appropriate their own peculiar revenues? Impossible! But so it came to pass, as all men may know.

You, I said, gaze with wonder at Philip as he gives away this and promises that, but if you are truly wise, pray that you may never find that he has deceived and cozened you. Verily, I said, there are manifold means devised by states for protection and safety—stockades, ramparts, fosses and the like.

And all these are wrought by hand and entail expense. But there is one common bulwark which the instinct of sensible men possesses within itself, a good and safe one for all, but invaluable for democracies against tyrants. And what is that bulwark? It is mistrust. Guard that; hold fast to that. If you preserve it, no harm can touch you.

What is your object? I said. Freedom. Then do you not see that Philip’s very titles are utterly irreconcilable with that? For every king, every despot is the sworn foe of freedom and of law. Beware, said I, lest, seeking to be rid of war, you find a master.

Sections 26–30

That is what I said to them, and they shouted their approval; and they heard many other speeches from the envoys, both in my presence and again later, as it seems; but they are none the more likely to do without Philip’s friendship and Philip’s promises.

And, indeed, it is not strange that Messenians and other Peloponnesians should sometimes act against their better judgement; but you, who know, both from your own intelligence and from our speeches, how you are compassed about with plots and snares, you will, as it seems to me, find to your surprise that through having done nothing in time, you have submitted to everything. So much does the pleasure and ease of the moment prevail over that which at some future time is likely to be advantageous.

On your practical measures you will, if you are wise, deliberate hereafter by yourselves; at present I will suggest the immediate answer which it would be proper for you to adopt.Answer

It would indeed have been fair, men of Athens, to call upon those who conveyed to you Philip’s promises, on the strength of which you were induced to conclude the Peace.

For I should never myself have consented to serve on the embassy, nor would you, I am sure, have suspended military operations, if you had imagined that Philip after securing peace would act as he has done; but his words at the time were very different from his present actions. Yes, and there are others who ought to be called upon. Whom do I mean? The men who, when peace was made and when I, returning from the second embassy—that sent to administer the oaths—found that the state was being imposed upon, and spoke out and protested and refused to give up Thermopylae and the Phocians—

the men, I say, who told you that I, being a water-drinker, was naturally a disagreeable, cross-grained fellow, and that Philip, if he got through the Pass, would do just what you would pray for, would fortify Thespiae and Plataea, and humble the Theban pride, and dig a trench across the Chersonese at his own charges, and restore to you Euboea and Oropus in lieu of Amphipolis. All this was said from this very platform, as I am sure you recollect, although you are not remarkable for keeping in mind those who injure you.

Sections 31–35

And the crowning disgrace is that your posterity also is bound by the same peace which these hopes prompted you to conclude; so completely were you led astray. Why do I mention this now and assert that these men ought to be called upon? I vow that I will boldly tell you the whole truth and keep nothing back.

It is not that by descending to abuse I may lay myself open to retaliation in your presence, while I give those who from the first have fallen foul of me an excuse for making further profit out of Philip. Nor do I wish to indulge in idle talk. But I think that one day Philip’s policy will cause you more distress than it does now,

for I see the plot thickening. I hope I may prove a false prophet, but I fear the catastrophe is even now only too near. So when you can no longer shut your eyes to what is happening, when you do not need me or someone else to tell you, but can all see for yourselves and be quite certain that all this is directed against you, then I expect you will be angry and exasperated.

Yes, I am afraid that, since the ambassadors have kept silence about the services for which they know they have been bribed, those who are trying to repair some of the losses that these men have caused may chance to fall under your displeasure; for I observe that people vent their wrath as a rule, not on those who are to blame, but chiefly on those who are within their reach.

Now therefore, while the danger is in the future and is gathering head, while we can still hear one another speak, I want to remind each one of you, however clearly he knows it, who it is that persuaded you to abandon the Phocians and Thermopylae, the command of which gave Philip the command also of the road to Attica and the Peloponnesus, and who it is that has forced you to take counsel, not for your rights and interests abroad, but for your possessions here at home and for the war in Attica, a war which will bring distress on every one of us, when it does come, but which really dates from that very day.

Sections 36–37

For if you had not been hoodwinked then, there would be no anxiety in Athens, because Philip could never, of course, have gained command of the sea and reached Attica with his fleet, nor could he have marched past Thermopylae and Phocis, but either he would have acted fairly and observed the Peace by keeping quiet, or he would have been instantly engaged in a war similar to that which made him so anxious for the Peace.

Enough has now been said by way of reminder. May all the gods forbid that my warnings should ever be brought to the sternest test! For I would not willingly see one man suffer, even though he deserve to perish, if his punishment involves the danger and the damage of all.

Contents — 16 sections

1. Sections 1–5
2. Sections 6–10
3. Sections 11–15
4. Sections 16–20
5. Sections 21–25
6. Sections 26–30
7. Sections 31–35
8. Sections 36–40
9. Sections 41–45
10. Sections 46–50
11. Sections 51–55
12. Sections 56–60
13. Sections 61–65
14. Sections 66–70
15. Sections 71–75
16. Section 76

Sections 1–5

Many speeches are delivered, men of Athens, at almost every meeting of the Assembly, about the wrongs that Philip has been committing, ever since the conclusion of peace, not only against you but also against the other states, and all the speakers would, I am sure, admit in theory, though they do not put it in practice, that the object both of our words and deeds must be to check and chastise his arrogance; yet I perceive that all our interests have been so completely betrayed and sacrificed, that—I am afraid it is an ominous thing to say, but yet the truth—even if all who address you had wanted to propose, and all of you had wanted to pass, measures that were bound to bring our affairs into the worst possible plight, I do not think they could have been in a worse condition than they are today.

Perhaps, indeed, this condition of our affairs may be attributed to many causes and not just to one or two, but a careful examination will convince you that it is above all due to those who study to win your favour rather than to give you the best advice. Some of them, Athenians, interested in maintaining a system which brings them credit and influence, have no thought for the future ; while others, by blaming and traducing those in authority, make it their sole aim that our city shall concentrate her attention on punishing her own citizens, while Philip shall be free to say and do whatever he pleases.

But such methods of dealing with public affairs, familiar though they are to you, are the cause of your calamities. I claim for myself, Athenians, that if I utter some home-truths with freedom, I shall not thereby incur your displeasure. For look at it this way. In other matters you think it is so necessary to grant general freedom of speech to everyone in Athens that you even allow aliens and slaves to share in the privilege, and many more menials may be observed among you speaking their minds with more liberty than citizens enjoy in other states; but from your deliberations you have banished it utterly.

Hence the result is that in the Assembly your self-complacency is flattered by hearing none but pleasant speeches, but your policy and your practice are already involving you in the gravest peril. Therefore, if such is your temper now, I have nothing to say; but if, apart from flattery, you are willing to hear something to your advantage, I am ready to speak. For though the state of our affairs is in every way deplorable, and though much has been sacrificed, nevertheless it is possible, if you choose to do your duty, that all may yet be repaired.

And what I am going to say may perhaps seem a paradox, but it is true. The worst feature of the past is our best hope for the future. What, then, is that feature? It is that your affairs go wrong because you neglect every duty, great or small; since surely, if they were in this plight in spite of your doing all that was required, there would not be even a hope of improvement. But in fact it is your indifference and carelessness that Philip has conquered; your city he has not conquered. Nor have you been defeated—no! you have not even made a move.

Sections 6–10

If, then, we were all agreed that Philip is at war with Athens and is violating the peace, the only task of a speaker would be to come forward and recommend the safest and easiest method of defence; but since some of you are in such a strange mood that, though Philip is seizing cities, and retaining many of your possessions, and inflicting injury on everybody, you tolerate some speakers who repeatedly assert in the Assembly that the real aggressors are certain of ourselves, we must be on our guard and set this matter right.

For there is grave danger that anyone who proposes and urges that we shall defend ourselves may incur the charge of having provoked the war. I therefore first of all state and define this question—whether it is in our power to discuss the alternative of peace or war.

If indeed Athens can remain at peace and if the choice rests with us— to take that point first—I personally feel that we are bound to do so; and if anyone says that we can, I call upon him to move a resolution and to do something and to play us no tricks; but if there is another person concerned, with sword in hand and a mighty force at his back, who imposes on you with the name of peace but himself indulges in acts of war, what is left but to defend ourselves? If you choose to follow his example and profess that you are at peace, I raise no objection.

But if anyone mistakes for peace an arrangement which will enable Philip, when he has seized everything else, to march upon us, he has taken leave of his senses, and the peace that he talks of is one that you observe towards Philip, but not Philip towards you. That is the advantage which he is purchasing by all his expenditure of money—that he should be at war with you, but that you should not be at war with him.

If we are going to wait for him to acknowledge a state of war with us, we are indeed the simplest of mortals; for even if he marches straight against Attica and the Piraeus, he will not admit it, if we may judge from his treatment of the other states.

Sections 11–15

For take the case of the Olynthians; when he was five miles from their city, he told them there must be one of two things, either they must cease to reside in Olynthus, or he in Macedonia, though on all previous occasions, when accused of hostile intentions, he indignantly sent ambassadors to justify his conduct. Again, when he was marching against the Phocians, he still pretended that they were his allies, and Phocian ambassadors accompanied him on his march, and most people here at Athens contended that his passage through Thermopylae would be anything but a gain to the Thebans.

And then again quite lately, after entering Thessaly as a friend and ally, he seized Pherae and still retains it; and lastly, he informed those poor wretches, the people of Oreus, that he had sent his soldiers to pay them a visit of sympathy in all goodwill, for he understood that they were suffering from acute internal trouble, and it was the duty of true friends and allies to be at their side on such occasions.

And do you imagine that, while in the case of those who could have inflicted no harm, though they might perhaps have protected themselves against it, he preferred to deceive them rather than to crush them after due warning, in your case he will give warning of hostilities, especially when you are so eager to be deceived?

Impossible! For indeed he would be the most fatuous man on earth if, when you, his victims, charge him with no crime, but throw the blame on some of your own fellow-citizens, he should compose your mutual differences and jealousies, and invite you to turn them against himself, and should deprive his own hirelings of the excuses with which they put you off, saying that at any rate it is not Philip who is making war on Athens.

But, in heaven’s name, is there any intelligent man who would let words rather than deeds decide the question who is at peace and who is at war with him? Surely no one. Now it was Philip who at the very start, as soon as peace was concluded, before Diopithes was appointed general, before the force now in the Chersonese had been dispatched, proceeded to occupy Serrium and Doriscus and expelled from the Fort Serreum and the Sacred Mount the garrison which your own general had posted there.

Sections 16–20

Yet what did that move of his mean? For it was peace that he had sworn to observe; and let no one say, What of all this? How do any of these things concern Athens? For whether they were small things, or whether they were no concern of yours, may be another question. But religion and justice, whether a man violates them in a small matter or in a great, have the same importance. Tell me now: when he sends mercenaries to the Chersonese, your claim to which has been recognized by the king of Persia and by all the Greeks, when he admits that he is helping the Cardians and writes to tell you so, what does he mean?

For he says that he is not at war, but for my part, so far from admitting that in acting thus he is not observing the peace with you, I assert that when he lays hands on Megara, sets up tyrannies in Euboea, makes his way, as now, into Thrace, hatches plots in the Peloponnese, and carries out all operations with his armed force, he is breaking the peace and making war upon you—unless you are prepared to say that men who bring up the siege-engines are keeping the peace until they actually bring them to bear on the walls. But you will not admit that; for he who makes and devises the means by which I may be captured is at war with me, even though he has not yet hurled a javelin or shot a bolt.

In what then consists your danger, if anything should happen? In the alienation of the Hellespont, in the control of Megara and Euboea by one who is at war with you, and in the defection of the Peloponnesians to his side. Am I still to say that the man who brings this siege-engine to bear on your city is at peace with you?

So far from saying that, I date his hostility from the very day when he wiped out the Phocians. I say that you will be wise if you defend yourselves now, but if you let the opportunity pass, you will not be able to act even when you desire to. I so far dissent, Athenians, from all you counsellors that I do not think you ought to trouble yourselves now about the Chersonese or Byzantium.

Help them, if you will, guard them from harm , but let your deliberations embrace all the Greek states and the great danger that besets them. But I wish to tell you the grounds for my alarm about our condition, so that if my reasoning is sound, you may adopt it as your own and take forethought for yourselves, even if you refuse to take it for the others also; but if I seem to you a driveler and a dotard, neither now nor at any other time pay any heed to me as if I were in my senses.

Sections 21–25

As for the fact, then, that Philip rose to greatness from small and humble beginnings, that the Greek states are mutually disloyal and factious, and that the increase of Philip’s power in the past was a far greater miracle than the completion of his conquests now that he has already gained so much, these and all such topics on which I might expatiate, I will pass over in silence.

I observe, however, that all men, and you first of all, have conceded to him something which has been the occasion of every war that the Greeks have ever waged. And what is that? The power of doing what he likes, of calmly plundering and stripping the Greeks one by one, and of attacking their cities and reducing them to slavery.

Yet your hegemony in Greece lasted seventy-five years, that of Sparta twenty-nine, and in these later times Thebes too gained some sort of authority after the battle of Leuctra. But neither to you nor to the Thebans nor to the Lacedaemonians did the Greeks ever yet, men of Athens, concede the right of unrestricted action, or anything like it.

On the contrary, when you, or rather the Athenians of that day, were thought to be showing a want of consideration in dealing with others, all felt it their duty, even those who had no grievance against them, to go to war in support of those who had been injured; and again, when the Lacedaemonians had risen to power and succeeded to your position of supremacy, and when they set to work to encroach on others and interfered unduly with the established order of things, all the Greeks were up in arms, even those who had no grievance of their own.

Why need I refer to the other states? Nay, we ourselves and the Lacedaemonians, though at the outset we could not have specified any wrong at each other’s hands, thought it our duty to fight on account of wrongs which we saw the other states suffering. Yet all the faults committed by the Lacedaemonians in those thirty years, and by our ancestors in their seventy years of supremacy, are fewer, men of Athens, than the wrongs which Philip has done to the Greeks in the thirteen incomplete years in which he has been coming to the top—or rather, they are not a fraction of them.

Sections 26–30

I pass over Olynthus and Methone and Apollonia and the two and thirty cities in or near Thrace, all of which Philip has destroyed so ruthlessly that a traveler would find it hard to say whether they had ever been inhabited. I say nothing of the destruction of the important nation of the Phocians. But how stands the case of the Thessalians? Has he not robbed them of their free constitutions and of their very cities, setting up tetrarchies in order to enslave them, not city by city, but tribe by tribe?

Are not tyrannies already established in Euboea, an island, remember, not far from Thebes and Athens? Does he not write explicitly in his letters, I am at peace with those who are willing to obey me? And he does not merely write this without putting it into practice; but he is off to the Hellespont, just as before he hurried to Ambracia; in the Peloponnese he occupies the important city of Elis; only the other day he intrigued against the Megarians. Neither the Greek nor the barbarian world is big enough for the fellow’s ambition.

And we Greeks see and hear all this, and yet we do not send embassies to one another and express our indignation. We are in such a miserable position, we have so entrenched ourselves in our different cities, that to this very day we can do nothing that our interest or our duty demands; we cannot combine, we cannot take any common pledge of help or friendship;

but we idly watch the growing power of this man, each bent (or so it seems to me) on profiting by the interval afforded by another’s ruin, taking not a thought, making not an effort for the salvation of Greece. For that Philip, like the recurrence or attack of a fever or some other disease, is threatening even those who think themselves out of reach, of that not one of you is ignorant.

Ay, and you know this also, that the wrongs which the Greeks suffered from the Lacedaemonians or from us, they suffered at all events at the hands of true-born sons of Greece, and they might have been regarded as the acts of a legitimate son, born to great possessions, who should be guilty of some fault or error in the management of his estate: so far he would deserve blame and reproach, yet it could not be said that it was not one of the blood, not the lawful heir who was acting thus.

Sections 31–35

But if some slave or superstitious bastard had wasted and squandered what he had no right to, heavens! how much more monstrous and exasperating all would have called it! Yet they have no such qualms about Philip and his present conduct, though he is not only no Greek, nor related to the Greeks, but not even a barbarian from any place that can be named with honor, but a pestilent knave from Macedonia, whence it was never yet possible to buy a decent slave.

Yet what is wanting to crown his insolence? Not content with the destruction of cities, is he not organizing the Pythian games, the common festival of the Greeks, and if he cannot be present in person, sending his menials to act as stewards? Is he not master of Thermopylae and the passes into Greece, holding those places with his garrisons and his mercenaries? Has he not the right of precedence at the Oracle, ousting us and the Thessalians and the Dorians and the rest of the Amphictyons from a privilege which not even all Greek states can claim?

Does he not dictate to the Thessalians their form of government? Does he not send mercenaries, some to Porthmus to expel the Eretrian democracy, others to Oreus to set up the tyranny of Philistides? Yet the Greeks see all this and suffer it. They seem to watch him just as they would watch a hailstorm, each praying that it may not come their way, but none making any effort to stay its course.

And it is not only his outrages on Greece that go unavenged, but even the wrongs which each suffers separately. For nothing can go beyond that. Are not the Corinthians hit by his invasion of Ambracia and Leucas? The Achaeans by his vow to transfer Naupactus to the Aetolians? The Thebans by his theft of Echinus? And is he not marching even now against his allies the Byzantines?

Of our own possessions, not to mention other places, is he not holding Cardia, the greatest city in the Chersonese? In spite of such treatment, we hesitate one and all, we play the coward, we keep an eye on our neighbors, distrusting one another rather than our common foe. Yet if he treats us all with such brutality, what do you think he will do when he has got each of us separately into his clutches?

Sections 36–40

What then is the cause of this? For not without reason, not without just cause, the Greeks of old were as eager for freedom as their descendants today are for slavery. There was something, men of Athens, something which animated the mass of the Greeks but which is lacking now, something which triumphed over the wealth of Persia, which upheld the liberties of Hellas, which never lost a single battle by sea or land, something the decay of which has ruined everything and brought our affairs to a state of chaos. And what was that?

men who took bribes from those who wished to rule Greece or ruin her, were hated by all, and it was the greatest calamity to be convicted of receiving a bribe, and such a man was punished with the utmost severity .

At each crisis, therefore, the opportunity for action, with which fortune often equips the careless against the vigilant , could not be bought at a price from our politicians or our generals; no, nor our mutual concord, nor our distrust of tyrants and barbarians, nor, in a word, any such advantage.

Now, however, all these things have been sold in open market, and in place of them we have imported vices which have infected Greece with a mortal sickness. And what are those vices? Envy of the man who has secured his gains; contempt for him who confesses; hatred for him who censures such dealings; and every other vice that goes hand in hand with corruption.

For war-galleys, men in abundance, money and material without stint, everything by which one might gauge the strength of our cities, these we as a body possess today in number and quantity far beyond the Greeks of former times. But all our resources are rendered useless, powerless, worthless by these traffickers.

Sections 41–45

That this is so, you surely see for yourselves with regard to the present, and you need no evidence of mine, but that it was the opposite in the days of old I will prove, not in my own words, but by the written record of your ancestors, which they engraved on a bronze pillar and set up in the Acropolis.

Arthmius of Zelea, it says, son of Pythonax, outlaw and enemy of the people of Athens and of their allies, himself and his family. Then is recorded the reason for this punishment: because he conveyed the gold of the Medes to the Peloponnese. So runs the inscription.

I earnestly implore you to consider what was the intention of the Athenians who did this thing, or what was their proud claim. They proscribed as their enemy and the enemy of their allies, disfranchising him and his family, a man of Zelea, one Arthmius, a slave of the Great King (for Zelea is in Asia), because in the service of his master he conveyed gold, not to Athens but to the Peloponnese.

This was not outlawry as commonly understood; for what mattered it to a native of Zelea if he was to be debarred from a share in the common rights of Athenian citizens? But the statutes relating to murder provide for cases where prosecution for murder is not allowed and he shall die an outlaw, says the legislator. This simply means that anyone slaying a member of Arthmius’s family would be free from blood-guilt.

So our ancestors thought that they were bound to consider the welfare of all Greeks, for except on that assumption bribery and corruption in the Peloponnese would be no concern of theirs; and in chastising and punishing all whom they detected, they went so far as to set the offenders’ names on a pillar. The natural result was that the Greek power was dreaded by the barbarian, not the barbarian by the Greeks. But that is no longer so. For that is not your attitude towards these and other offences. What then is your attitude?

Sections 46–50

Do you want me to tell you, and will you promise not to be angry?

Now there is a foolish argument advanced by those who want to reassure the citizens. Philip, they say, after all is not yet what the Lacedaemonians were; they were masters of every sea and land; they enjoyed the alliance of the king of Persia; nothing could stand against them: and yet our city defended itself even against them and was not overwhelmed. But for my own part, while practically all the arts have made a great advance and we are living today in a very different world from the old one, I consider that nothing has been more revolutionized and improved than the art of war.

For in the first place I am informed that in those days the Lacedaemonians, like everyone else, would spend the four or five months of the summer season in invading and laying waste the enemy’s territory with heavy infantry and levies of citizens, and would then retire home again; and they were so old-fashioned, or rather such good citizens, that they never used money to buy an advantage from anyone, but their fighting was of the fair and open kind.

But now you must surely see that most disasters are due to traitors, and none are the result of a regular pitched battle. On the other hand you hear of Philip marching unchecked, not because he leads a phalanx of heavy infantry, but because he is accompanied by skirmishers, cavalry, archers, mercenaries, and similar troops.

When, relying on this force, he attacks some people that is at variance with itself, and when through distrust no one goes forth to fight for his country, then he brings up his artillery and lays siege. I need hardly tell you that he makes no difference between summer and winter and has no season set apart for inaction.

Sections 51–55

Since, however, you all know this, you must take it into account and not let the war pass into your own country; you must not invite catastrophe through keeping your eyes fixed on the simple strategy of your old war with the Lacedaemonians, but arrange your political affairs and your military preparations so that your line of defence may be as far away from Athens as possible, give him no chance of stirring from his base, and never come to close grips with him.

For so far as a campaign is concerned, provided, men of Athens, we are willing to do what is necessary, we have many natural advantages, such as the nature of his territory, much of which may be harried and devastated, and countless others; but for a pitched battle he is in better training than we are.

But it is not enough to adopt these suggestions, nor even to oppose him with active military measures, but both from calculation and on principle you must show your hatred of those who speak publicly on his behalf; and you must reflect that it is impossible to defeat the enemies of our city until you have chastised those who within our very walls make themselves their servants.

And that, as all Heaven is my witness, you will never be able to do; but you have reached such a height of folly or of madness or—I know not what to call it, for this fear too has often haunted me, that some demon is driving you to your doom, that from love of calumny or envy or ribaldry, or whatever your motive may be, you clamor for a speech from these hirelings, some of whom would not even disclaim that title, and you derive amusement from their vituperations.

This is serious enough, but there is worse to follow; for you have granted to these men more security for the pursuance of their policy than to your own defenders. Yet mark what troubles are in store for those who lend an ear to such counsellors. I will mention some facts which will be familiar to you all.

Sections 56–60

At Olynthus there were two parties in the state: Philip’s men, entirely subservient to him, and the patriots, striving to preserve the freedom of their countrymen. Which, pray, ruined their country? Which betrayed the cavalry, whose betrayal sealed the doom of Olynthus? The partisans of Philip; the men who, when the city was still standing, tried to defame and slander the patriotic statesmen, until the Olynthian democracy was actually induced to expel Apollonides.

Now it was not at Olynthus only that this habit produced every kind of evil result; but at Eretria, when the democrats, ridding themselves of Plutarchus and his mercenaries, held the city together with Porthmus, some of them were for handing the government over to you, others to Philip. The latter on most points, or rather on all, gained the ear of the sorely tried and ill-starred Eretrians, and at last persuaded them to expel their real champions.

For of course Philip, whom they fancied their ally, sent Hipponicus with a thousand mercenaries, razed the walls of Porthmus, and set up three tyrants, Hipparchus, Automedon, and Clitarchus. Twice since then they have tried to deliver themselves, and twice he has driven them from their homes .

And what need is there to mention most of the cases? But at Oreus Philistides, Menippus, Socrates, Thoas, and Agapaeus, the very men who now control the city, were, as everyone knew, Philip’s agents, but Euphraeus, a man who once resided here at Athens, was working for the freedom and emancipation of his countrymen.

It would be a long story to tell you how this man was repeatedly outraged and insulted by the people; but a year before the capture of Eretria, detecting the machinations of Philistides and his party, he denounced him as a traitor. Then a number of fellows banded together, with Philip for their paymaster and managing director, and dragged Euphraeus off to prison for setting the city in an uproar.

Sections 61–65

When the democrats of Oreus saw this, instead of rescuing him and knocking the others on the head, they showed no resentment against them and gloated over Euphraeus, saying that he deserved all he had got. Then having all the liberty of action they desired, they intrigued for the capture of the city and prepared to carry out their plot, while any of the common folk who saw what they were at were terrorized into silence, having the fate of Euphraeus before their eyes. And so abject was their condition that, with this danger looming ahead, no one dared to breathe a syllable until the enemy, having completed their preparations, were approaching the gates; and then some were for defence, the others for surrender.

But since that base and shameful capture of the city, the latter have been its rulers and tyrants; those who sheltered them before, and had been ready to take any measures against Euphraeus, were rewarded with banishment or death; and the noble Euphraeus slew himself, giving thus a practical proof of the honesty and disinterested patriotism of his opposition to Philip.

Perhaps you wonder why the people of Olynthus and Eretria and Oreus were more favorably inclined to Philip’s advocates than to their own. The explanation is the same as at Athens, that the patriots, however much they desire it, cannot sometimes say anything agreeable, for they are obliged to consider the safety of the state; but the others by their very efforts to be agreeable are playing into Philip’s hands. The patriots demanded a war-subsidy, the others denied its necessity; the patriots bade them fight on and mistrust Philip, the others bade them keep the peace, until they fell into the snare.

Not to go into particulars, it is the same tale everywhere, one party speaking to please their audience, the other giving advice that would have ensured their safety. But at the last there were many things that the people were induced to concede, not as before for their own gratification nor through ignorance, but gradually yielding because they thought that their discomfiture was inevitable and complete.

And, by Heaven, that is what I certainly fear will be your experience, when you count your chances and discover that there is nothing left for you to do. And yet I pray, Athenians, that such may not be the issue of events. Better to die a thousand times than pay court to Philip A fine return the people of Oreus have gained for handing themselves over to Philip’s friends and rejecting Euphraeus!

Sections 66–70

A fine return the democrats of Eretria have gained for spurning your embassy and capitulating to Clitarchus! They are slaves, doomed to the whipping-post and the scaffold. A fine clemency he showed to the Olynthians, who voted Lasthenes their master of the horse and banished Apollonides!

It is folly and cowardice to cherish such hopes, to follow ill counsel and refuse to perform any fraction of your duties, to lend an ear to the advocates of your enemies and imagine that your city is so great that no conceivable danger can befall it.

Ay, and a disgrace too it is to have to say, when all is over, Why! who would have thought it? For of course we ought to have done this or that, and not so and so. Many things could be named by the Olynthians today, which would have saved them from destruction if only they had then foreseen them. Many could be named by the Orites, many by the Phocians, many by every ruined city.

But of what use to them is that? While the vessel is safe, whether it be a large or a small one, then is the time for sailor and helmsman arid everyone in his turn to show his zeal and to take care that it is not capsized by anyone’s malice or inadvertence; but when the sea has overwhelmed it, zeal is useless.

So we too, Athenians, as long as we are safe, blessed with a very great city, ample advantages, and the fairest repute—what are we to do? Perhaps some of my hearers have long been eager to ask that question. I solemnly promise that I will answer it and will also move a resolution, for which you can vote if so disposed. To begin with ourselves, we must make provision for our defence, I mean with war-galleys, funds, and men; for even if all other states succumb to slavery, we surely must fight the battle of liberty.

Sections 71–75

Then having completed all these preparations and made our purpose clear, we must lose no time in calling upon the other Greeks, and we must inform them by sending ambassadors [in every direction, to the Peloponnese, to Rhodes, to Chios, to the Great King—for even his interests are not unaffected if we prevent Philip from subduing the whole country—] so that if you win them over, you may have someone to share your dangers and your expenses when the time comes, or if not, that you may at least delay the course of events.

For since the war is against an individual and not against the might of an organized community, even delay is not without its use; nor were those embassies useless which you sent round the Peloponnese last year to denounce Philip, when I and our good friend Polyeuctus here and Hegesippus and the rest went from city to city and succeeded in checking him, so that he never invaded Ambracia nor even started against the Peloponnese.

I do not, however, suggest that you should invite the rest, unless you are ready to do for yourselves what is necessary; for it would be futile to abandon our own interests and pretend that we are protecting those of others, or to overlook the present dangers and alarm our neighbors with dangers to come. That is not my meaning. But I do contend that we must send supplies to the forces in the Chersonese and satisfy all their demands, and while we make preparation ourselves, we must summon, collect, instruct, and exhort the rest of the Greeks. That is the duty of a city with a reputation such as yours enjoys.

But if you imagine that Greece will be saved by Chalcidians or Megarians, while you run away from the task, you are wrong. For they may think themselves lucky if they can save themselves separately. But this is a task for you; it was for you that your ancestors won this proud privilege and bequeathed it to you at great and manifold risk.

But if every man sits idle, consulting his own pleasure and careful to avoid his own duty, not only will he find no one to do it for him, but I fear that those duties that we wish to shirk may all be forced upon us at once.

Section 76

These are my views and these are my proposals, and if they are carried out, I believe that even now we may retrieve our fortunes. If anyone has anything better to propose, let him speak and advise. But whatever you decide, I pray heaven it may be to your advantage.

Contents — 16 sections

1. Sections 1–5
2. Sections 6–10
3. Sections 11–15
4. Sections 16–20
5. Sections 21–25
6. Sections 26–30
7. Sections 31–35
8. Sections 36–40
9. Sections 41–45
10. Sections 46–50
11. Sections 51–55
12. Sections 56–60
13. Sections 61–65
14. Sections 66–70
15. Sections 71–75
16. Section 76

Sections 1–5

The matters that you are debating, men of Athens, are to my mind so important and even vital to the State, that I will endeavour to offer you what I consider profitable advice on the subject. While the faults that have produced this unhappy state of things are neither few nor recently accumulated, there is nothing, men of Athens, more vexing at the present time than the way in which you detach your thoughts from affairs, and display an interest only so long as you sit here listening, or when some fresh item of news arrives; after that, each man goes home, and not only pays no attention to public business, but does not even recall it to mind.

Now the extent of the recklessness and rapacity that Philip shows in his dealings with all men is indeed as great as it has been described to you; but how impossible it is to stay him in this career by argument and declamation, assuredly no one is ignorant. For indeed, if no single thing else can teach a man the truth of that, let him weigh the following consideration. When we have had to speak in defence of our rights, we have never yet been defeated or proved in the wrong, but in every case we vanquish all our opponents and have the best of it in argument.

Is, then, Philip any the worse off for that, or Athens any the better? Far from it; for afterwards, when he takes up arms and marches to battle, ready to risk all he has, and we sit idle, alike those who have pleaded our cause and those who have been listening to them, then, naturally enough, deeds outweigh words, and the world in general gives heed, not to what we once said with justice or might now say, but to what we do. And what we do is insufficient to protect any of the victims of injustice; in fact, I need say no more about it.

Therefore, as the Greeks in every city are divided into these two parties—the one desiring neither to rule others by force nor to be slaves to any man, but to enjoy liberty and equality under a free constitution; the other eager to rule their fellow-countrymen, but to take their orders from some third person, who they think will enable them to compass their ends—Philip’s faction, those who hanker after tyrannies and oligarchies, have everywhere gained the supremacy, and I doubt whether of all the states there is any stable democracy left except our own.

Moreover, this supremacy of the constitution-mongers who rely on Philip’s support has been gained by all the devices usual in politics, first and foremost by providing a dispenser of wealth to such as covet it, secondly, and not less effectively, by having at their back a force capable of crushing their opponents on any occasion when they may call upon it.

Sections 6–10

But we, Athenians, are not only behindhand in this respect, but we cannot even rouse ourselves from sleep; we are like men who have drunk mandragora or some such drug. Hence, I believe—for I must speak the truth as I conceive it—we have been so discredited and despised that of those who are involved in actual danger some dispute with us about the right of leadership, others about the meeting-place for a congress, and some have made up their minds to defend themselves single-handed rather than with us.

What is my object in treating this matter so fully? For I protest in Heaven’s name that I have no ambition to incur your hostility. It is that each one of you, Athenians, may know and realize this—that in state affairs, as well as in private life, daily indifference and carelessness do not make their result felt at once on each occasion when duty is neglected, but come home to us when the total result of our policy is seen.

Look at Serrium and Doriscus; for these were the places that were disregarded immediately after the peace, and many of you perhaps do not even know of their existence. Yet it was your neglect and abandonment of them that ruined Thrace and Cersobleptes, who was your ally. Again, Philip, seeing that these were overlooked and were receiving no help from you, proceeded to raze Porthmus to the ground and founded a tyranny in Euboea over against Attica as a menace to you.

Because we neglected Euboea, Megara was very nearly captured. You showed no concern nor anxiety about any of these proceedings, and gave no indication that you would not allow Philip to continue them; so he bought up Antrones and soon afterwards got Oreus under his control.

I pass over many other instances, such as Pherae, the raid against Ambracia, the massacres at Elis, and countless others. I have gone into these details, not to give you a complete catalogue of the victims of Philip’s oppression and injustice, but to make it clear to you that he will never desist from molesting all of us and bringing us under his sway, unless someone restrains him.

Sections 11–15

But there are some who, without waiting to hear the speeches on these questions, are in the habit of asking at once, What then ought we to do?—not in order to do it, when they have heard it, for if so, they would be the most helpful of all citizens, but simply to get rid of the speaker. Nevertheless, you must be told what you ought to do. First, men of Athens, you must fix this firmly in your minds, that Philip is at war with us and has broken the peace, and that he is ill-disposed and hostile to the whole city and to the very soil on which the city stands, and, I will add, to the gods that dwell in it; and may those same gods complete his ruin! The chief object, however, of his arms and his diplomacy is our free constitution, and on nothing in the world is he more bent than on its destruction.

And it is in a way inevitable that he should now be acting thus. For observe! He wants to rule, and he has made up his mind that you, and you only, bar the way. He has long injured you; of nothing is he more conscious than of that. For it is by holding the cities that are really yours that he retains safe possession of all the rest; and if he gave up Amphipolis and Potidaea, even Macedonia would be no safe place for him.

He knows, then, these two facts—that he is intriguing against you and that you are aware of it. Assuming that you are intelligent, he concludes that you hate him. Besides these weighty considerations, he knows for certain that even if he masters all else, his power will be precarious as long as you remain a democracy, but if ever he meets with some mischance (and there are many to which mankind is liable), all the forces that are now under restraint will be attracted to your side.

For nature has not equipped you to seek aggrandizement and secure empire, but you are clever at thwarting another’s designs and wresting from him his gains, and quick to confound utterly the plots of the ambitious and vindicate the freedom of all mankind. Therefore he does not want to have the Athenian tradition of liberty watching to seize every chance against himself; nor is his reasoning here either faulty or idle.

This, then, is the first thing needful, to recognize in Philip the inveterate enemy of constitutional government and democracy; and your second need is to convince yourselves that all his activity and all his organization is preparing the way for an attack on our city. For none of you is so simple as to believe that though Philip covets these wretched objects in Thrace—for what else can one call Drongilus and Cabyle and Mastira and the other places he is said to be now holding ?—and though he endures toil and winter storms and deadly peril for the privilege of taking them,

Sections 16–20

yet he does not covet the Athenian harbours and dockyards and war-galleys and the place itself and the glory of it—and never may Philip or any other man make himself master of these by the conquest of our city!—but will allow you to retain them, while he winters in that purgatory for the sake of the rye and millet of the Thracian store-pits.

It is not so, but it is to win these prizes that he devotes his activities to all those other objects.

Therefore each must know and feel in his own mind the truth of this, but you must not, of course, call for a declaration of war from the statesman who is trying, in all honesty, to give you the best advice; for that would be the act of men who want to find someone to fight with, not of men who seek the interests of their state.

For consider. If for his first violation of the peace, or his second or third—for there was a long series of them—someone had proposed a declaration of war against him, and if Philip, just as he is doing now when no one proposes such a declaration, had gone to the help of the Cardians, would not the proposer have been suppressed, and blamed by everybody as the real author of Philip’s expedition?

Then do not look about for a scapegoat for Philip’s sins, someone whom you can throw for his hirelings to rend limb from limb. Do not vote for war and then fall to disputing among yourselves whether you ought or ought not to have done so, but imitate his methods of warfare, supplying those who are now resisting him with money and whatever else they need, and raising a war-fund yourselves, Athenians, and providing an army, swift-sailing galleys, horses, cavalry-transports, and everything that war requires.

For at present our system is a mockery, and, by Heaven, I do not believe that even Philip himself would pray that Athens might act otherwise than she is acting. You are behind your time and waste your money; you look round for someone to manage the business and then quarrel with him; you throw the blame on one another. I will explain how this comes about and will tell you how to stop it.

Sections 21–25

Never yet, Athenians, have you instituted or organized a single plan of action properly at the start, but you always follow in the track of each event, and then, when you find yourselves too late, you give up the pursuit; when the next event occurs, you are again in a bustle of preparation.

But that is not the way. If you trust to occasional levies, you can never gain any of your essential objects; but you must first raise a force and provide for its maintenance, and appoint paymasters and clerks, and arrange that there shall be the strictest watch kept over your expenditure, and afterwards you must demand from your paymasters an account of their moneys, and from the general an account of his campaign, and you must leave the general no excuse for sailing elsewhere or engaging in any other business.

If you do this, and you are really in earnest about it, you will either compel Philip to keep the peace fairly and to stay in one place, or you will fight him on equal terms; and perhaps—perhaps, just as you are now inquiring what Philip is doing and where he is marching, so he may be anxious to know where the Athenian force is bound for, and in what quarter it will appear.

But if anyone thinks that all this means great expense and much toil and worry, he is quite correct, but if he reckons up what will hereafter be the result to Athens if she refuses to act, he will conclude that it is to our interest to perform our duty willingly. For if you have the guarantee of some god, since no mere mortal could be a satisfactory surety for such an event, that if you remain inactive and abandon everything, Philip will not in the end march against yourselves,

by Zeus and all the other gods, it would be disgraceful and unworthy of you and of the resources of your city and the record of your ancestors to abandon all the other Greeks to enslavement for the sake of your own ease, and I for one would rather die than be guilty of proposing such a policy.

Sections 26–30

All the same, if someone does propose it and wins your assent, so be it; offer no resistance, sacrifice everything. But if no one approves of this, and if on the contrary we all of us foresee that the more we allow him to extend his power, the stronger and more formidable we shall find him in war, what escape is open to us, or why do we delay? When, men of Athens, shall we consent to do our duty?

Whenever it is necessary, you will say. But what any free man would call necessity is not merely present now, but is long ago past, and from the necessity that constrains a slave we must surely pray to be delivered. Do you ask the difference? The strongest necessity that a free man feels is shame for his own position, and I know not if we could name a stronger; but for a slave necessity means stripes and bodily outrage, unfit to name here, from which Heaven defend us!

Now, men of Athens, with regard to such public services as it is the duty of everyone to discharge, both with person and with property, that there should be a disposition to avoid them is not right—indeed, far from it—but still it does admit of some excuse notwithstanding; but to refuse even to listen to all that you ought to hear and all that you are bound to decide deserves, at such a time as this, absolute condemnation.

Your habit, then, is not to listen until, as now, the events themselves are upon you, and not to discuss any question at your leisure but whenever Philip makes his preparations, you neglect the chance of doing the same, and you are too remiss to make counter-preparations; and if anyone speaks out, you drive him from the platform, but when you learn of the loss of this place or the siege of that, then you pay attention and begin to prepare.

But the time to have listened and made your decision was just then, when you would not do it; now, when you are listening, is the time to act and put your preparations to use. Therefore in consequence of these bad habits you alone reverse the general practice of mankind; for other people deliberate before the event, but you after the event.

Sections 31–35

The one thing that remains and that ought to have been done long ago, though even now the chance is not lost, I will tell you. There is nothing that the State needs so much for the coming struggle as money. Some strokes of good fortune we have enjoyed without our design, and if we make the right use of them, the desired results may perhaps follow. For first, the men whom the king of Persia trusts and has accepted as his benefactors, hate Philip and are at war with him.

Secondly, the agent who was privy to all Philip’s schemes against the king of Persia has been kidnapped, and the king will hear of all these plots, not as the complaint of Athenians, whom he might suspect of speaking for our own private advantage, but from the lips of the very man who planned and carried them out, so that their credit is established, and the only suggestion for our ambassadors to make is one which the king would be delighted to hear,

that the man who is wronging both parties should be punished by both in common, and that Philip is much more dangerous to the king if he has attacked us first, for if we are left to our own resources and anything happens to us, he will soon be marching confidently against the king. I think you ought to send an embassy to put all these matters before the king, and you ought to drop the foolish prejudice that has so often brought about your discomfiture—the barbarian, the common foe of us all, and all such phrases.

For my part, whenever I see a man afraid of one who dwells at Susa and Ecbatana and insisting that he is ill-disposed to Athens, though he helped to restore our fortunes in the past and was even now making overtures to us(and if you did not accept them but voted their rejection, the fault is not his); and when I find the same man using very different language about this plunderer of the Greeks, who is extending his power, as you see, at our very doors and in the heart of Greece, I am astonished, and, whoever he may be, it is I that fear him, just because he does not fear Philip.

Now there is also another matter, the misrepresentation of which by unfair obloquy and in intemperate language is injuring the State, and furthermore is affording a pretext for those who are unwilling to perform any of their duties as citizens; indeed, you will find that in every case where a man has failed to do his duty, this has been given as the excuse. I am really afraid to speak on this subject, but I will do so nevertheless;

Sections 36–40

for I think I shall be able, with advantage to the State, to plead the cause both of the poor against the rich and of the property-owners against the necessitous. If we could banish from our midst both the obloquy which some heap on the Theoric Fund, and also the fear that the Fund will not be maintained without doing a great deal of harm, we could not perform a greater service nor one more likely to strengthen the whole body politic.

Follow my argument while I state first the case of those who are regarded as the poorer classes. There was a time not long ago when the revenue of your state did not exceed a hundred and thirty talents, and yet of those competent to undertake the trierarchy or pay the property-tax there is not one that declined the duty that devolved on him in the absence of a surplus; but the war-galleys sailed out, and the money came in, and we did all that was required.

Since then fortune has smiled on us and increased our revenues, and the exchequer now receives four hundred instead of one hundred talents, though no property-owner suffers any loss but is rather the gainer, for all the rich citizens come up to receive their share of this increase, as indeed they have a perfect right to do.

What then do we mean by reproaching one another for this and making it an excuse for doing nothing, unless it is that we grudge the relief which the poor have received at the hands of fortune? I for one shall not blame them, nor do I think it fair to do so.

For in private life I do not observe that the young man adopts that attitude towards his seniors, or that any human being is so insensible or unreasonable that he refuses to do anything himself unless everybody does the same; and indeed such a case would be covered by the laws for ill-usage, for I suppose the contribution assessed by both authorities, by nature and by law, ought to be brought honestly and paid cheerfully to the parents.

Sections 41–45

Therefore, just as each one of us has a parent, so ought we to regard the collective citizens as the common parents of the whole State, and so far from depriving them of anything that the State bestows, we ought, if there were no such grant, to look elsewhere for means to save any of their wants from being overlooked.

So then, if the wealthy would accept this principle, I think they would be doing not only what is fair, but also what is expedient; for to deprive one citizen of necessaries is to make many of them unite in disaffection towards the government. I would also counsel the poorer classes to abolish the grievance which makes the propertied class discontented with the system, and gives them just cause for assailing it.

I proceed, in the same way as before, to state the case for the rich, and I shall not shrink from speaking the truth. For I cannot imagine anyone, or at least any Athenian, so obdurate and cruel-hearted as to feel annoyed when he sees the poor and those who lack necessaries receiving these boons.

But where does our practice break down, and where lies the grievance? It is when the rich see certain persons transferring this usage from public moneys to private property; when the speaker is raised to instant greatness among you and even to immortality, as far as his privilege can secure it; and when your shouts of open approval are contradicted by your secret vote.

All this breeds distrust and resentment. For we are bound, Athenians, to share equitably with one another the privileges of citizenship, the wealthy feeling secure to lead their own lives and haunted by no fears on that account, but in the face of dangers making over their property to the commonwealth for its defence; while the rest must realize that State-property is common property, duly receiving their share of it, but recognizing that private wealth belongs to the possessor. In this way a small state grows great, and a great one is kept great. This may pass for a verbal statement of the duties of each class; for the legal performance of those duties some organization is necessary.

Sections 46–50

Of our present difficulties and of the existing confusion the causes are many and of long standing, but if you are willing to hear them, I am ready to speak. Men of Athens, you have deserted the post in which your ancestors left you; you have been persuaded by politicians of this sort that to be paramount in Greece, to possess a standing force, and to help all the oppressed, is a superfluous task and an idle expense; while you fondly imagined that to live in peace, to neglect all your duties, to abandon all your possessions and let others seize them one by one, ensured wonderful prosperity and complete security.

In consequence of this, a rival has stepped into the position that you ought to have filled, and it is he who has become prosperous and great and ruler over many things. And rightly so; for there is a prize, honorable, great, and glorious, a prize for which the greatest of our states once spent all their time in contending, but since misfortune has dogged the Lacedaemonians, and the Phocian War has left the Thebans no leisure, and we are heedless, he has grasped it without a struggle.

Therefore fear is the portion of the others, but his the possession of many allies and a mighty force; and such great and manifold troubles now encompass all the Greeks that it is not easy to advise what ought to be done.

Yet, men of Athens, perilous as is the present situation in my judgement, none of all the Greeks are in greater danger than you, not only because you are the chief object of Philip’s plots, but because you are the most disposed to inaction. If therefore, noting the abundance and cheapness of goods for sale in your markets, you have been beguiled by these things into the belief that the city is in no danger, your estimate of the situation is contrary to all right and reason.

For a market or a fair might be judged on such evidence to be well or ill stocked; but a city, which every aspirant to the rule of Greece has regarded as his only possible opponent and as champion of the freedom of all, must surely not be tested by her market-stuff to see whether all is well with her, but by her ability to trust the loyalty of her allies, by her strength in ams—these are the qualities that you must look for in the city; and these in your case are all untrustworthy and unsound.

Sections 51–55

You will understand it if you look at it in this way. When have the affairs of Greece been in the greatest confusion? For no other occasion than the present could possibly be named by anyone. All during the past Greece was divided into two camps, the Lacedaemonians’ and ours, and of the other Greeks some took their orders from us, others from them. The king of Persia, in himself, was equally distrusted by all, but by taking up the cause of the losing side in the struggle, he retained their confidence until he could put them on an equality with the others; but thereafter he was no less hated by those he had saved than by those who had been his enemies from the beginning.

But in the first place, the king is now well-disposed to all the Greeks, and yet to us least of all, unless we can effect some immediate improvement. In the second place, many so-called protectors are springing up everywhere, and all states are rivals for the leadership, but unfortunately some hold aloof, in mutual jealousy and distrust, and so each state has isolated itself—Argives, Thebans, Lacedaemonians, Corinthians, Arcadians, ourselves.

But yet, though Greek politics are split up into so many factions under so many powers, in no state, if I must speak the truth freely, would you find the government offices and the council chambers less occupied with Greek affairs than here at Athens; and naturally so, for neither through love nor trust nor fear does anyone hold communication with us.

And this is not due to a single cause, Athenians, or you might easily remedy it, but to many errors of every kind throughout the past. Without enumerating these, I will mention one on which all the rest turn, only beseeching you not to be offended with me, if I speak the truth boldly. It is the selling of your interests at every opportunity; your share in the bargain is leisure and inaction, which charm you out of your resentment against your betrayers, but others reap the rewards.

The other errors it is not worth while to investigate now, but whenever any question arises that concerns Philip, instantly up jumps someone and says there must be no nonsense talked, no declarationtion of war, and he at once goes on to add how good a thing it is to preserve peace, and what a bother it is to keep up a large army, and how certain persons want to plunder your wealth; and their other statements are as true as they can make them.

Sections 56–60

But surely it is not to you that they should recommend peace, for you have taken the advice and there you sit; it is to the man who is even now on the warpath; for if Philip can be won over, your share of the compact is ready to hand. Again, they should reflect that the irksome thing is not the expense of securing our safety, but the doom that will be ours if we shrink from that expense. As for the plunder of your wealth, they ought to prevent that by proposing some way of checking it and not by abandoning your interests.

And yet it is just this that rouses my indignation, that some of you should be distressed at the prospect of the plunder of your wealth, when you are quite competent to protect it and to punish any offender, but that you are not distressed at the sight of Philip thus plundering every Greek state in turn, the more so as he is plundering them to injure you.

Why then, men of Athens, has none of these speakers ever admitted that Philip is violating rights and provoking war, when he is thus openly violating rights and subduing cities, but when others urge you not to give way to Philip nor submit to these losses, they say they are provoking war? It is because they want the blame for the sufferings that the war will entail—for it is inevitable, yes, inevitable that the war should cause much distress—to be laid at the doors of those who believe they are your wisest counsellors.

For they are convinced that if you offer a whole-hearted and unanimous opposition to Philip, you will beat him and they will have no further chance of earning his pay, but that if at the first alarm of war you throw the blame on certain persons and devote your energies to bringing them to trial, they themselves by accusing them will gain both their ends—reputation with you and money from him, while you will punish the men who have spoken in your interests for the faults which you ought to punish in their accusers.

Such are their hopes, and such is the design of the accusation that certain persons wish to provoke war. But I am absolutely certain that, without waiting for any Athenian to propose a declaration of war, Philip is in possession of much of our territory and has just dispatched a force against Cardia. If, however, we like to pretend that he is not at war with us, he would be the greatest fool alive if he tried to disprove that; for when the victims deny the wrong, what should the malefactor do?

Sections 61–65

But when our turn comes, what shall we say then? For of course he will deny that he is attacking us, just as he denied that he was attacking the men of Oreus, when his troops were already in their territory, or the Pheraeans before that, when he was actually assaulting their walls, or the Olynthians at the start, until he was inside their frontier with his army. Or shall we say, even at that hour, that those who bid us repel him are provoking war? If so, there is nothing left but slavery, for there is no other alternative.

Moreover, you have not the same interests at stake as some of the others, for it is not your subjection that Philip aims at; no, but your complete annihilation. For he is well assured that you will not consent to be slaves; or, if you consent, will never learn how to be slaves, for you are accustomed to rule others; but that you will be able, if you seize your chances, to cause him more trouble than all the rest of the world. For that reason he will not spare you, if he gets you in his power.

Therefore you must needs bear in mind that this will be a life-and-death struggle, and the men who have sold themselves to Philip must be publicly cudgelled to death; for it is impossible, impossible to quell the foes without, until you have punished the foes within your gates, but if you let these stand as stumbling-blocks in your path, you must fail against the others.

What do you imagine is his motive in outraging you now—I think no other term describes his conduct—or why is it that, in deceiving the others, he at least confers benefits upon them, but in your case he is resorting to threats? For example, the Thessalians were beguiled by his generosity into their present state of servitude; no words can describe how he formerly deceived the miserable Olynthians by his gift of Potidaea and many other places; the Thebans he is now misleading, having handed over Boeotia to them and relieved them of a long and trying war.

So each of these states has reaped some benefit from him, but while some have already paid the price by their sufferings, the others have yet to suffer whatever shall fall to their lot. As for you, I do not say how far you have been robbed, but in the actual making of the peace, how completely you were deceived, how grievously you were robbed! Were you not deceived about Phocis, Thermopylae, the Thrace-ward districts, Doriscus, Serrium, Cersobleptes himself? Is not Philip now holding the city of the Cardians, and admitting that he holds it?

Sections 66–70

Why then does he deal in that way with the other Greeks, but with you in this way? Because yours is the one city in the world where immunity is granted to plead on behalf of our enemies, and where a man who has been bribed can safely address you in person, even when you have been robbed of your own. It would not have been safe in Olynthus to plead Philip’s cause, unless the Olynthian democracy had shared in the enjoyment of the revenues of Potidaea.

It would not have been safe in Thessaly to plead Philip’s cause, if the commoners of Thessaly had not shared in the advantages that Philip conferred, when he expelled their tyrants and restored to them their Amphictyonic privileges. It would not have been safe at Thebes, until he gave them back Boeotia and wiped out the Phocians.

But at Athens, though Philip has not only robbed you of Amphipolis and the Cardian territory, but is also turning Euboea into a fortress to overawe us and is even now on his way to attack Byzantium, it is safe to speak on Philip’s behalf. Indeed, of these politicians, some who were beggars are suddenly growing rich, some unknown to name and fame are now men of honour and distinction; while you, on the contrary, have passed from honour to dishonour, from affluence to destitution.

For a city’s wealth I hold to be allies, credit, goodwill, and of all these you are destitute. And it is because you are indifferent to these things and allow them to be taken from you in this way, that Philip is prosperous and powerful and formidable to Greeks and barbarians alike, while you are deserted and humiliated, famous for your well-stocked markets, but in provision for your proper needs, contemptible.

Yet I observe that some of our speakers do not urge the same policy for you as for themselves; for you, they say, ought to remain quiet even when you are wronged; themselves cannot remain quiet among you, though no one does them wrong. And yet, raillery apart, suppose someone should ask, Tell me, Aristomedes, why, when you know perfectly well—for no one is ignorant of such matters—that a private station is secure and free from risk, but the life of a politician is precarious, open to attack, and full of trials and misfortunes every day, why do you not choose the quiet, sequestered life instead of the life of peril? What would you reply?

Sections 71–75

For if we should grant the truth of what would be your best possible answer, that you do all this for love of glory and renown, I wonder what earthly reason you have for thinking that you yourself ought for that object to make every exertion, facing toil and danger, whereas you advise the State to abandon such efforts in sheer indifference. For this you cannot say—that it is your duty to make a figure in the State, but that the State is of no importance in the Greek world.

And there is another thing I do not see—that it is safe for the State to mind its own business, but dangerous for you if you do not go beyond your fellow-citizens in meddling with affairs.

Nay, on the contrary, I do foresee the utmost danger, to you from your bustling and meddling, but to the State from its inactivity. But you may say that you have the honour of your grandfather and father to uphold, and it would be scandalous to subvert it in your person, but that the State has inherited only nameless and paltry exploits from our ancestors. But that too is untrue; for you had a thief for your father, if he was like you, but our fathers, as all the Greeks know, preserved them from the deadliest perils.

But indeed there are some whose management both of private and of public business is neither fair nor constitutional; for how is it fair that some of these men, just released from jail, should be ignorant of their own worth, while that state, which was once the champion of the rest and maintained the pre-eminence, should now be sunk in all dishonour and humiliation?

Therefore, though there is much that I could say on many topics, I will forbear; for indeed it is not, I think, lack of speeches either now or at any other time that is the cause of our distress, but when you have listened to the right sort of arguments, and when you are unanimous as to their validity, you sit on and give equal attention to those who wish to overthrow and distort them. It is not that you do not recognize these speakers, for as soon as you have seen them, you know exactly who is speaking for pay and acting as Philip’s agent, and who is sincerely defending your best interests; but your aim is to find fault with these latter and, by turning the subject into ridicule and raillery, to avoid doing any part of your own duty.

Section 76

There you have the truth spoken with all freedom, simply in goodwill and for the best—no speech packed by flattery with mischief and deceit, and intended to put money into the speaker’s pocket and the control of the State into our enemies’ hands. Either, then, you must abandon these habits of yours, or you must throw the blame for all our failures on no one but yourselves.

Contents — 6 sections

1. Sections 1–5
2. Sections 6–10
3. Sections 11–15
4. Sections 16–20
5. Sections 21–25
6. Sections 26–28

Sections 1–5

You would, I expect, men of Athens, accept it as the equivalent of a large amount of money, if it could be made clear to you what will prove our best policy in the matters now under discussion. This then being so, you are bound to give an eager hearing to all who offer advice. For not only if someone comes forward with a well-considered plan, could you hear and accept it, but also I count it part of your good fortune that more than one speaker may be inspired with suitable suggestions on the spur of the moment, so that out of the multitude of proposals the choice of the best should not be difficult.

The present crisis, Athenians, calls on you, almost with an audible voice, to take into your own hands the control of your interests in the North, if you are really anxious to safeguard them. But, I confess, our attitude puzzles me. My own idea would be to vote an expedition at once, to make instant preparation for its dispatch, thus avoiding our previous blunder, and to send ambassadors to state our intentions and watch events.

Our chief ground for alarm is that this man, so unscrupulous, so quick to seize his opportunity, now yielding a point when it suits his purpose, now threatening—and his threats may well carry conviction—now misrepresenting us and our failure to intervene, may divert to his own purpose and wrest from us something of vital importance.

And yet, men of Athens, it is reasonable to suggest that the very thing which makes Philip’s position most redoubtable is also most encouraging for you. For the swift and opportune movements of war he has an immense advantage over us in the fact that he is the sole director of his own policy, open or secret, that he unites the functions of a general, a ruler and a treasurer, and that he is always at the head of his army; but when it comes to a composition such as he would gladly make with Olynthus, the tables are turned.

The eyes of the Olynthians are opened to the fact that they are now fighting not for glory, not for a strip of territory, but to avert the overthrow and enslavement of their fatherland. They know how he treated those Amphipolitans who betrayed their city and those Pydnaeans who opened their gates to him. And a despotism, I take it, is as a rule mistrusted by free constitutions, especially when they are near neighbors.

Sections 6–10

I bid you grasp these facts, men of Athens, and weigh well all the important considerations. Make up your minds; rouse your spirits; put your heart into the war, now or never. Pay your contributions cheerfully; serve in person; leave nothing to chance. You have no longer the shadow of an excuse for shirking your duty.

It was long the common talk that the Olynthians must be made to fight Philip; and now it has come about in the natural course, and that too in a way that suits you admirably. For if they had plunged into war in reliance on your advice, they would perhaps have proved uncertain allies and only half-hearted in their resolve; but now that their hatred of Philip is the outcome of their own grievances, it is natural that their hostility should have a firm base in their apprehensions and their experiences.

Men of Athens, you must not let slip the opportunity that offers, nor make the blunder you have so often made before. When we returned from the Euboean expedition and Hierax and Stratocles, the envoys of Amphipolis, mounted this platform and bade you sail and take over their city, if we had shown the same earnestness in our own cause as in defence of the safety of Euboea, Amphipolis would have been yours at once and you would have been relieved of all your subsequent difficulties.

Once again, when news came of the siege of Pydna, of Potidaea, of Methone, of Pagasae, and of the rest of them—not to weary you with a complete catalogue—if we had at that time shown the required zeal in marching to the help of the first that appealed, we should have found Philip today much more humble and accommodating. Unfortunately we always neglect the present chance and imagine that the future will right itself, and so, men of Athens, Philip has us to thank for his prosperity. We have raised him to a greater height than ever king of Macedonia reached before. Today this opportunity comes to us from the Olynthians unsought, a fairer opportunity than we have ever had before.

Men of Athens, let anyone fairly reckon up the blessings we have received of the gods, and though much is amiss, none the less his gratitude will be great—and rightly so: for our many losses in the war may be justly imputed to our own supineness; that we did not suffer these losses long ago and that this opportunity of alliance affords us some compensation, if we choose to accept it, this I for my part should put down as a signal instance of the favor of the gods.

Sections 11–15

I suppose it is with national as with private wealth. If a man keeps what he gains, he is duly grateful to fortune; if he loses it by his own imprudence, he loses along with it the sense of gratitude. So in national affairs, those who fail to use their opportunities aright, fail also to acknowledge the good that the gods have given; for every advantage in the past is judged in the light of the final issue. It is therefore our duty, men of Athens, to keep a careful eye on the future, that by restoring our prosperity we may efface the discredit of the past.

But if we leave these men too in the lurch, Athenians, and then Olynthus is crushed by Philip, tell me what is to prevent him from marching henceforward just where he pleases. I wonder if any one of you in this audience watches and notes the steps by which Philip, weak at first, has grown so powerful. First he seized Amphipolis, next Pydna, then Potidaea, after that Methone, lastly he invaded Thessaly.

Then having settled Pherae, Pagasae, Magnesia, and the rest of that country to suit his purposes, off he went to Thrace, and there, after evicting some of the chiefs and installing others, he fell sick. On his recovery, he did not relapse into inactivity, but instantly assailed Olynthus. His campaigns against Illyrians and Paeonians and King Arybbas and any others that might be mentioned, I pass over in silence.

Well, some of you may say, why tell us this now? Because, men of Athens, I want you to know and realize two things: first, what an expensive game it is to squander your interests one by one; and secondly, the restless activity which is ingrained in Philip’s nature, and which makes it impossible for him ever to rest on his laurels. But if Philip adopts the principle that he ought always to be improving his position, and you the principle of never facing your difficulties resolutely, just reflect what is likely to be the end of it all.

Seriously, is anyone here so foolish as not to see that our negligence will transfer the war from Chalcidice to Attica? Yet if that comes to pass, I am afraid, men of Athens, that just as men who borrow money recklessly at high interest enjoy a temporary accommodation only to forfeit their estates in the end, so we may find that we have paid a heavy price for our indolence, and because we consult our own pleasure in everything, may hereafter come to be forced to do many of the dfficult things for which we had no liking, and may finally endanger our possessions here in Attica itself.

Sections 16–20

Now someone may tell me that to find fault is easy and in any one’s power, but that it needs a statesman to expound the policy demanded by our circumstances. But I am not unaware, men of Athens, that if anything goes wrong, you often vent your disappointment, not on the responsible agents, but on those who happen to have addressed you last. I shall not, however, consult my own safety by keeping back what I believe to be for your true interests.

I suggest then that the case calls for two distinct expeditions; one military force must be dispatched to rescue their cities for the Olynthians, and a second force, both naval and military, to ravage Philip’s territory. If you neglect either of them, I am afraid your campaign will prove abortive.

For if you send a marauding expedition, he will stand on the defensive until he has made himself master of Olynthus, and then he will easily march to the relief of his own territory; or if you confine yourselves to helping Olynthus, he will know that his base is secure and will give close and undivided attention to his operations, until at last he overcomes the resistance of the besieged. Our expedition, you see, must be on a large scale and twofold.

Such are my views on the expeditionary force. With regard to the supply of money, you have money, men of Athens; you have more than any other nation has for military purposes. But you appropriate it yourselves, to suit your own pleasure. Now if you will spend it on the campaign, you have no need of a further supply; if not, you have—or rather, you have no supply at all. What! someone will cry, do you actually move to use this money for military purposes? Of course I do not.

Only it is my opinion that we must provide soldiers and that there must be one uniform system of pay in return for service. Your opinion, however, is that you should, without any trouble, just appropriate the money for your festivals. Then the only alternative is a war-tax, heavy or light, as circumstances demand. Only money we must have, and without money nothing can be done that ought to be done. There are other proposals before you for raising supplies; choose whichever of them you think expedient, and, while there is yet time, grapple with the problem.

Sections 21–25

It is worth while, however, to observe and consider how Philip stands today. His present prospects are not so bright or satisfactory as they seem and as a superficial observer might pronounce them; nor would he ever have provoked this war had he thought that he would be bound to fight himself. He hoped that on his first entry he would carry all before him, and he finds himself completely mistaken. This unforeseen result confounds and discourages him; and besides there is the question of Thessaly.

The Thessalians were always, of course, born traitors, and Philip finds them today just what everyone has found them in the past. They have formally resolved to demand the restitution of Pagasae and have hindered him from fortifying Magnesia. I have also been informed that they will no longer hand over to him the profits of their harbors and markets, on the ground that this sum ought to be applied to the government of Thessaly and not find its way into Philip’s coffers. Now if he is deprived of this source of revenue, he will be hard put to it to pay for the maintenance of his mercenaries.

But surely we must assume that your Paeonian or Illyrian or any other of these tribes would prefer freedom and independence to slavery. They are not accustomed to acknowledge a master, and Philip is by all accounts a particularly harsh one. And indeed that is not surprising. Undeserved success engenders folly in unbalanced minds, and therefore it often proves harder to keep than to win prosperity.

Look then, Athenians, upon his difficulties as your opportunity. Be prompt to take up the challenge. Send embassies when necessary. Take the field in person. Rouse all the other states. Reflect how eagerly Philip would march against you, if he had such a chance as we have, and if the war were on our frontiers. Are you not ashamed if, having the opportunity, you lack the courage to do to him what he would certainly do to you if he could?

One point more, men of Athens. Do not forget that you can today choose whether you must fight there or Philip must fight here. If Olynthus holds out, you will fight there, to the detriment of his territory, while you enjoy in security the land that is your home. But if Philip takes Olynthus, who is to prevent his marching hither? The Thebans?

Sections 26–28

It may be an unduly harsh thing to say, but they will join heartily in the invasion. The Phocians then? What! the men who cannot protect their own country without your help? Any others? But, my friend, cries someone, he will not wish to attack us. Nay, it would be a crowning absurdity if, having the power, he should lack the will to carry out the threat which today he utters at the risk of his reputation for sanity.

But indeed I think you want no speech to prove how vast is the difference between a war here and a war yonder. Why, if you were obliged to take the field yourselves for a bare month, drawing from Attica the necessary supplies—I am assuming that there is no enemy in this country—I suppose your farmers would lose more than the sum spent upon the whole of the previous war. But if war comes within our borders, at what figure must we assess our losses? And you must add the insolence of the enemy and the ignominy of our position, greater than any loss in a wise man’s estimation.

It is the duty of all of you to grasp the significance of these facts, and to send out an expedition that shall thrust back the war into Macedonia: it is the duty of the well-to-do, that spending but a fraction of the wealth they so happily possess, they may enjoy the residue in security; of our fighters, that gaining experience of war on Philip’s soil, they may prove the formidable guardians of an inviolate fatherland; of the statesmen, that they may give a ready account of their stewardship, for as is the issue of these events, so will be your judgement of their policy. On every ground may that issue be prosperous!

Contents — 7 sections

1. Sections 1–5
2. Sections 6–10
3. Sections 11–15
4. Sections 16–20
5. Sections 21–25
6. Sections 26–30
7. Section 31

Sections 1–5

On many occasions, men of Athens, one may, I think, recognize the manifest favor of heaven towards our city, and not least at the present crisis. That Philip has found men willing to fight him, situated on his frontiers and possessed of considerable power, above all so determined that they regard any accommodation with him as both delusive and fatal to their own country—this has all the appearance of a super-human, a divine beneficence.

So the time has come, men of Athens, to look to it that we do not prove more unfriendly to ourselves than circumstances have been, for we shall show ourselves the meanest of mankind, if we abandon not only the cities and the places which we once called our own, but the very allies that fortune has raised up for us and the chances she throws in our way.

Now I do not choose, Athenians, to enumerate the resources of Philip and by such arguments to call on you to rise to the occasion. Do you ask why? Because it seems to me that any dissertation on that topic is a tribute to his enterprise, but a record of our failure. For the higher he has raised himself above his proper level, the more he wins the admiration of the world; but the more you have failed to improve your opportunities, the greater is the discredit that you have incurred. All this then I will waive.

For an impartial investigation, men of Athens, would trace the source of Philip’s greatness not to himself, but to this very platform. Of transactions, then, for which Philip should be grateful to those whose policy has served his interests, and for which you might well demand satisfaction, I do not find this the proper time for speaking. There are, however other topics open to me; you will be the better for having heard them, and if you will consent to scrutinize them accurately, men of Athens, you will find in them grave charges against Philip. On these topics I shall endeavor to address you.

Now to call a man perjured and faithless, without drawing attention to his acts, might justly be termed mere abuse; but to describe his conduct in detail and convict him on the whole count fortunately requires only a short speech. Moreover, I have two reasons for thinking the story worth the telling: Philip shall appear as worthless as he really is, and those who stand aghast at his apparent invincibility shall see that he has exhausted all the arts of chicanery on which his greatness was founded at the first, and that his career has now reached its extreme limit.

Sections 6–10

For my own part, Athenians, I too should be inclined to regard Philip with mingled fear and admiration, if I saw that his success had crowned a career of integrity. But when I consider him attentively, I find that at the outset, when the Olynthians were anxious to consult you, but certain persons were for excluding them from our Assembly, he won our simple hearts by promising to hand over Amphipolis to us and by negotiating that secret treaty once so much talked about.

I find that next he won the friendship of the Olynthians by capturing Potidaea, which was yours, and thus wronging you, his former allies, in presenting it to them. Lastly he has won over the Thessalians by promising to bestow Magnesia upon them and by undertaking to conduct the Phocian war in their interests. In a word, he has hoodwinked everyone that has had any dealings with him; he has played upon the folly of each party in turn and exploited their ignorance of his own character. That is how he has gained his power.

Now even as he has raised himself by these arts, while every community imagined that they were to be the recipients of his favors, so by these same arts he is bound to be brought low again now that the utter selfishness of his conduct has been amply demonstrated. Yes, men of Athens, this is the turning point of Philip’s career. If not, let someone step up and prove to me—or rather to you—that my words are untrue, or that those who have been once deceived will continue to trust him, or that the Thessalians who stooped to become his slaves would not now welcome their emancipation.

Again, if anyone here admits the truth of this, but fancies that Philip will remain master of the situation, being already in possession of the fortresses and harbors and other points of vantage, he is mistaken. For when a league is knit together by goodwill, when all the allied states have the same interests, then the individual members are willing to remain steadfast, sharing the toil and enduring the hardships; but when a man has gained power, as Philip has, by rapacity and crime, then the first pretext, some trifling slip, overthrows and shatters all.

It is impossible, men of Athens, impossible to gain permanent power by injustice, perjury, and falsehood. Once in a way and for a brief season such things endure, and fed with hopes make, it may be, a brave show of blossom, but at the last they are detected and fall to pieces. For a house, I take it, or a ship or anything of that sort must have its chief strength in its substructure; and so too in affairs of state the principles and the foundations must be truth and justice. There is no vestige of these today in the power that Philip has built up.

Sections 11–15

I urge you strongly to send help to Olynthus, and the best and quickest method that anyone can suggest will please me most. To the Thessalians you must send an embassy to inform some of them of our intentions and to stir up the others; for they have already decided to demand the restoration of Pagasae and to protest against the occupation of Magnesia.

But you must make sure, men of Athens, that our envoys do not confine themselves to words; they must be able to give some practical proof that we have taken the field in a way worthy of our city and that we are really grappling with the situation. All words, apart from action, seem vain and idle, especially words from Athenian lips; for the greater our reputation for a ready tongue, the greater the distrust it inspires in all men.

You must indeed prove the thoroughness of your reformation and the importance of your change of policy by raising money, by serving in the field, and by doing everything with a will, if you want anyone to take you seriously. If you consent to carry through the necessary reforms at once, not only will Philip’s alliances, men of Athens, prove unstable and untrustworthy, but the weakness of his native power and sovereignty will be completely exposed.

Yes, the power and sovereignty of Macedonia is indeed, as an adjunct, no slight contribution, as you found it when on your side against Olynthus in the days of Timotheus. On another occasion, in dealing with Potidaea, the Olynthians found its cooperation of some value; and lately it came to the help of the Thessalians in their factions and feuds against the ruling house. The accession, I suppose, even of a small force is in every way helpful; but by itself Macedonia is weak and full of defects.

For indeed Philip by all that might be deemed to constitute his greatness, by his wars and his campaigns, has only reduced his country below its natural level of insecurity. You must not imagine, men of Athens, that his subjects share his tastes. No: glory is his sole object and ambition; in action and in danger he has elected to suffer whatever may befall him putting before a life of safety the distinction of achieving what no other king of Macedonia ever achieved.

Sections 16–20

But his subjects have no share in the glory that results. They are perpetually buffeted and wearied and distressed by these expeditions north and south, never suffered to give their time to their business or their private affairs, never able to dispose of such produce as they can raise, because the war has closed all the markets in their land.

Hence it is not difficult to see how the majority of the Macedonians regard Philip. As for his household troops and footguards, they have indeed the name of admirable soldiers, well grounded in the science of war; but one who has lived on the spot, a man incapable of falsehood, has informed me that they are no better than other soldiers.

If there is anyone among them who can be described as experienced in war and battle, I was told that Philip from jealousy keeps all such in the background, because he wants to have the credit himself of every action, among his many faults being an insatiable ambition. Any fairly decent or honest man, who cannot stomach the licentiousness of his daily life, the drunkenness and the lewd dancing, is pushed aside as of no account.

All the rest about his court, he said, are robbers and toadies, men capable of getting drunk and performing such dances as I hesitate to name to you here. This report is obviously true, for the men who were unanimously expelled from Athens, as being of far looser morals than the average mountebank—I mean Callias the hangman and fellows of that stamp, low comedians, men who compose ribald songs to raise a laugh against their boon companions—these are the men he welcomes and loves to have about him.

These are perhaps trivial things, and yet, Athenians, to wise men they afford an important proof of the infatuation of his character. For the present, however, his prosperity throws all this into the shade (for success is apt to cover a multitude of faults); but if he trips, then we shall know all about his vices. And it seems to me, Athenians, that we shall not have to wait long for the exposure, if heaven wills and you so resolve.

Sections 21–25

For just as in our bodies, so long as a man is in sound health, he is conscious of no pain, but if some malady assails him, every part is set a-working, be it rupture or sprain or any other local affection; even so is it with states and monarchies; as long as their wars are on foreign soil, few detect their weaknesses, but when the shock of battle is on their frontiers, it makes all their faults perfectly clear.

But if any of you, Athenians, seeing Philip’s good fortune, thinks that he is in that respect a formidable antagonist, he reasons like a prudent man. For fortune is indeed a great weight in the scales; I might almost say it is everything in human affairs. All the same, if you gave me the choice, I should prefer the fortune of Athens to Philip’s, provided that you are willing to do your duty yourselves, even to a limited extent; for I am sure you have far greater claims than he upon the favor of the gods. Yet, I think, we sit here doing nothing.

But one who is himself idle cannot possibly call upon his friends, much less upon the gods, to work for him. No wonder that Philip, sharing himself in the toils of the campaign, present at every action, neglecting no chance and wasting no season, gets the better of us, while we procrastinate and pass resolutions and ask questions. I cannot wonder at this: the contrary would rather surprise me, that we, performing no single duty of a combatant, should overcome the man who fulfils them all.

Nay, I am surprised that you, men of Athens, who once withstood the Lacedaemonians in defence of the rights of Hellas, who spurned the opportunity, repeatedly offered, of self-aggrandizement, who lavished your treasure and jeoparded your lives in the field that others might enjoy their rights, now shrink from service and grudge to pay your contributions for the sake of your own possessions. I am surprised that you, who have so often saved the other states, both all of them together and each separately in turn, should sit down under the loss of what is your own.

All this I wonder at, and at another thing besides. I wonder that no one here, men of Athens, can count up how many years you have been at war with Philip, and what you have been doing all that long time. Surely you must know that all that time you have been hesitating, hoping that some other state would take action, accusing and sitting in judgement on one another, and still hoping, hoping—doing in fact pretty much what you are doing now.

Sections 26–30

And are you so unintelligent, men of Athens, as to hope that the same policy that has brought our state from success to failure will raise us from failure to success? Surely that is neither reasonable nor natural; for in all things it is much easier to keep than to gain. But, in the present instance, of what was once ours the war has left us nothing to keep and everything to gain. This, then, is our own task today.

I say it is your duty to serve cheerfully in person and to reserve your censures till you are masters of the situation. Then, judging all on their merits, assign praise to the deserving and punishment to the wrongdoers, and render excuse impossible by mending your own deficiencies; for you have no right to be severe critics of others’ conduct, unless you first set your own house in order.

Why is it, think you, men of Athens, that all the generals you dispatch—if I am to tell you something of the truth about them—leave this war to itself and pursue little wars of their own? It is because in this war the prizes for which you contend are your own—(if, for instance, Amphipolis is captured, the immediate gain will be yours)—while the officers have all the dangers to themselves and no remuneration; but in the other case the risks are smaller and the prizes fall to the officers and the soldiers—Lampsacus, for example, and Sigeum, and the plunder of the merchant-ships. So they turn aside each to what pays him best.

But you, whenever you turn your attention to your reverses, sit in judgement on your officers, but acquit them whenever in defence they plead their necessities. Hence the outcome is strife and contention among yourselves, some taking this side and some that, while the interests of the state suffer. You conduct your party-politics, Athenians as you used to conduct your taxpaying—by syndicates. Each syndicate has an orator for chairman, with a general under him and three hundred to do the shouting. The rest of you are attached now to one party and now to another.

Surely this system must be abandoned. You must be once more your own masters, and must give to all alike the same chance to speak, to counsel, to act. But if you authorize one class of men to issue orders like absolute monarchs, and force another class to equip the galleys and pay the war-tax and serve in the field, while yet a third class has no other public duty than to vote the condemnation of the latter, you will never get anything essential done at the right time. There will always be some class with a grievance, who will fail you, and then it will be your privilege to punish them instead of the enemy.

Section 31

To sum up, I propose that all should contribute equitably, each according to his means, that all should serve in turn until all have taken part in the campaign, that all who wish to address you should have a fair hearing, and that you should adopt the best advice offered, not just what this man or that man is pleased to suggest. If you do this, you will be able to congratulate the speaker at once and yourselves later on, when you find the cause of the nation prospering.

Contents — 8 sections

1. Sections 1–5
2. Sections 6–10
3. Sections 11–15
4. Sections 16–20
5. Sections 21–25
6. Sections 26–30
7. Sections 31–35
8. Section 36

Sections 1–5

Very different, men of Athens, are the thoughts suggested to me by the contemplation of public affairs and by the speeches to which I listen. I observe that the speeches are all about punishing Philip, while our affairs have reached a stage at which it must be our first concern to avoid disaster ourselves. Hence these speakers seem to me to make precisely the mistake of submitting to you the wrong subject for deliberation.

But for myself I am perfectly well aware that Athens once had the chance both of establishing her power and of punishing Philip; for within my own memory and not long ago, both these objects were within our grasp. Now, however, I am persuaded that we must be content to secure the first, that of saving our allies. If once we can be sure of that, then we can go on to consider who is to be punished and how it is to be done; but until that foundation is well and truly laid, it is idle, in my opinion, to say a word about our ultimate object.

Never was there a crisis that demanded more careful handling than the present. But the difficulty lies, I think, not in proposing a plan to meet the case: what puzzles me, men of Athens, is how to put it before you. For what I have seen and heard convinces me that most of your chances have escaped us rather from a disinclination to do our duty than from a failure to understand it. I must ask you to bear with me if I speak frankly, considering only whether I am speaking the truth, and speaking with the object that things may go better in the future; for you see how the popularity-hunting of some of our orators has led us into this desperate predicament.

I must first refresh your memory with a little history. You remember, men of Athens, when news came three or four years ago that Philip was in Thrace besieging the fortress of Heraeum. Well, it was the month of Maemacterion, and there was a long and excited debate in the Assembly, and you finally decided to launch a fleet of forty vessels manned by citizens under the age of forty-five, and to raise forty talents by a special tax.

That year passed and Hecatombaeon came and Metageitnion and Boëdromion. In that month, with a great effort, after the celebration of the Mysteries you dispatched Charidemus with ten ships, unmanned, and a sum of five talents of silver. When news came that Philip was ill or dead—both reports reached us—you, Athenians, thinking that help was no longer needed, abandoned the expedition. But that was just your opportunity. If we had carried out our resolution in earnest and sailed to Thrace then, Philip would not have survived to trouble us today.

Sections 6–10

Well, what is done cannot be undone; but now comes the opportunity of another war. That was why I have referred to the past, that you may not make the same mistake again. What use, men of Athens, are we to make of our opportunity? For if you do not send help in full muster, whereto your power shall extend, observe how all your generalship will make for Philip’s success.

We could count on the Olynthians with their considerable resources; and the position of affairs was that Philip did not trust them, nor they Philip. We had negotiated a peace with them that hampered Philip sorely; for here was a powerful state, reconciled to us and watching for him to give them an opening. We thought that we ought by all means to embroil them with him; and what was then common talk has today somehow or other come to pass.

What remains then, men of Athens, but to help them with all your power and energy? I see no alternative. For, quite apart from the disgrace that we should incur if we shirk our responsibilities, I see not a little danger, men of Athens, for the future, if the Thebans maintain their present attitude towards us, and the Phocians have come to the end of their money, and there is nothing to hinder Philip, when he has crushed his present foe, from turning his arms against Attica.

But surely if anyone of you would postpone the necessary action till then, he must prefer to see danger at his very doors, rather than hear of it far away, and to beg help for himself, when he might be lending help to others now; for I suppose we all realize that that is what it will come to, if we throw away our present chances.

Perhaps you will say, Of course we all know that we must send an expedition, and we are willing to do so; but tell us how. Then do not be surprised, Athenians, if my answer comes as a shock to most of you. Appoint a legislative commission. Do not use it to frame new laws—you have laws enough for your purpose—but repeal those which hamper us in the present crisis.

Sections 11–15

In plain language I mean the laws for administering the Theoric Fund, and also some of the service regulations. The former distribute the military funds as theatre-money among those who remain in the city; the latter give impunity to deserters and in consequence discourage those willing to serve. When you have repealed these laws and made the way safe for wise counsel, then look round for someone who will propose what you all know to be salutary measures. But until you have done this, do not expect to find a statesman who will propose measures for your benefit, only to be ruined by you for his pains.

You will never find one, especially as the only result would be that the proposer would get into trouble without improving the situation, and his fate would also make good advice more dangerous for the future. Yes, men of Athens, and you ought to insist that those who made these laws should also repeal them.

It is not fair that those legislators should enjoy a popularity which has cost the community dear, but that the patriotic reformer should be penalized by the odium of proposals by which we may all be benefited. Until you have set this right, Athenians, do not expect to find anyone so influential among you that he can break these laws with impunity, or so wanting in discretion as to run open-eyed into danger.

At the same time, Athenians, you must not forget this, that a mere decree is worthless without a willingness on your part to put your resolutions into practice. If decrees could automatically compel you to do your duty, or could accomplish the objects for which they were proposed, you would not have passed such an array of them with little or no result, and Philip would not have had such a long career of insolent triumph. Long ago, if decrees counted for anything, he would have suffered for his sins.

But that is not so. For in order of time action is subsequent to speaking and voting, but in importance it comes first and ranks higher. It is action, then, that must be added: of all else we have enough. You have among you, Athenians, men competent to say the right thing, no nation is quicker-witted to grasp the meaning of speech, and you will at once be able to translate it into action, if only you do your duty.

Sections 16–20

Why, what better time or occasion could you find than the present, men of Athens? When will you do your duty, if not now? Has not your enemy already captured all our strongholds, and if he becomes master of Chalcidice, shall we not be overwhelmed with dishonor? Are not those states actually at war which we so readily engaged in that event to protect? Is not Philip our enemy? And in possession of our property? And a barbarian? Is any description too bad for him?

But, in the name of the gods, when we have abandoned all these places and almost helped Philip to gain them, shall we then ask who is to blame? For I am sure we shall never admit that it is ourselves. In the panic of battle the runaway never blames himself; it is always his general’s fault, or his comrades’, anyone’s rather than his own. Yet surely to the runaways collectively the defeat is due; for he might have stood firm who now blames the others, and if every man had stood, the battle would have been won.

So now: someone’s suggestion is not the best possible. Then let someone else get up and make a better, not blame the first speaker. Suppose the second suggestion is an improvement. Then act upon it, and success attend it! But, you say, it is not a pleasant one. The speaker is not to blame for that—unless he leaves out the necessary prayer! Yes, men of Athens, it is easy to pray, cramming all our wants into one short petition. But to choose, when choice of action is put before you, is no such child’s-play, because you have to choose the best course rather than the pleasantest, if you cannot have both at once.

But what if someone can leave our Theoric Fund untouched and name other sources for our military budget? Is not he the better statesman? says someone. I grant you, men of Athens—if the thing is possible. But I wonder if any mortal, after spending all his existing wealth on superfluities, ever did or ever will find himself with a surplus for necessaries from his vanished funds. I think that in such proposals the wish is father to the thought, and that is why nothing is easier than self-deceit. For what each man wishes, that he also believes to be true. Unfortunately it is not often so in practical politics.

Now I want you, Athenians, to consider the possibilities of the case, and see how you can both serve and receive your pay. Surely it is not like men of sense and spirit to shirk your military duty because the pay is not forthcoming, thinking lightly of the shame of it all; or to snatch up arms and march against Corinth or Megara, but to let Philip enslave Greek cities, because you are short of rations for a campaign.

Sections 21–25

I am not talking for the idle purpose of quarrelling with anyone here. I am not such a misguided fool as to pick a quarrel deliberately when I see no advantage from it. But I consider it right as a citizen to set the welfare of the state above the popularity of an orator. Indeed I am given to understand—and so perhaps are you—that the orators of past generations, always praised but not always imitated by those who address you, adopted this very standard and principle of statesmanship. I refer to the famous Aristides, to Nicias, to my own namesake, and to Pericles.

But ever since this breed of orators appeared who ply you with such questions as What would you like? What shall I propose? How can I oblige you? the interests of the state have been frittered away for a momentary popularity. The natural consequences follow, and the orators profit by your disgrace.

Yet reflect, men of Athens, on what might be named as the outstanding achievements of the days of your ancestors and those of your own time. I will give you a summary of familiar facts, for you need not go abroad for examples to teach you how to win success.

Now your ancestors, whom their orators, unlike ours today, did not caress or flatter, for five and forty years commanded the willing obedience of the Greeks; more than ten thousand talents did they accumulate in our Acropolis; the then king of Macedonia was their subject, even as a barbarian ought to be subject to Greeks; many honorable trophies for victory on sea and land did they erect, themselves serving in the field; and they alone of mankind left behind them by their deeds a renown greater than all detraction.

Such was their rank in the world of Hellas: what manner of men they were at home, in public or in private life, look round you and see. Out of the wealth of the state they set up for our delight so many fair buildings and things of beauty, temples and offerings to the gods, that we who come after must despair of ever surpassing them; yet in private they were so modest, so careful to obey the spirit of the constitution,

Sections 26–30

that the houses of their famous men, of Aristides or of Miltiades, as any of you can see that knows them, are not a whit more splendid than those of their neighbors. For selfish greed had no place in their statesmanship, but each thought it his duty to further the common weal. And so by their good faith towards their fellow Greeks, their piety towards the gods, and their equality among themselves, they deserved and won a great prosperity.

Such was their condition in those days under the leaders I have named; and what is our condition today, thanks to our worthy statesmen? Is it the same or anything like the same? Why, we—I pass over much that I might mention, but you all see what a clear field we had got, with the Lacedaemonians crushed, the Thebans fully occupied, and no other city fit to dispute the supremacy with us, while we might have been both the vindicators of our own rights and the umpires of the rights of others;

and yet we have been robbed of our own soil, we have wasted on unnecessary objects more than fifteen hundred talents, our statesmen in peace have lost us the allies we gained in war, and we have provided a training-ground for this formidable rival. If not, let someone come forward and tell me who but ourselves has made Philip powerful.

But, says an objector, if our foreign policy has failed, there is great improvement in domestic affairs. And to what can you point in proof? To the walls we are whitewashing, the streets we are paving, the water-works, and the balderdash? Look rather at the men whose statesmanship has produced these results; some of them were poor and now are rich, some were obscure and now are eminent, some have reared private houses more stately than our public buildings, while the lower the fortunes of the city have sunk, the higher have their fortunes soared.

What is the cause of all this, and why, pray, did everything go well then that now goes amiss? Because then the people, having the courage to act and to fight, controlled the politicians and were themselves the dispensers of all favors; the rest were well content to accept at the people’s hand honor and authority and reward.

Sections 31–35

Now, on the contrary, the politicians hold the purse-strings and manage everything, while you, the people, robbed of nerve and sinew, stripped of wealth and of allies, have sunk to the level of lackeys and hangers-on, content if the politicians gratify you with a dole from the Theoric Fund or a procession at the Boëdromia, and your manliness reaches its climax when you add your thanks for what is your own. They have mewed you up in the city and entice you with these baits, that they may keep you tame and subservient to the whip.

You cannot, I suppose, have a proud and chivalrous spirit, if your conduct is mean and paltry; for whatever a man’s actions are, such must be his spirit. By our Lady, I should not wonder if I got rougher treatment from you for pointing out these faults than the men who are responsible for them. For you do not allow liberty of speech on every subject, and indeed I am surprised that you have allowed it now.

If, therefore, even at the eleventh hour, you can shake off these habits, and consent to fight and act as becomes Athenians and to devote the abundant resources that you have at home to the attainment of success abroad, perhaps, men of Athens, perhaps you may gain some important and unqualified advantage and may be quit of these paltry perquisites. Like the diet prescribed by doctors, which neither restores the strength of the patient nor allows him to succumb, so these doles that you are now distributing neither suffice to ensure your safety nor allow you to renounce them and try something else; they only confirm each citizen in his apathy.

You will ask me if I mean pay for military service. Not only that, men of Athens, but also the immediate adoption of a uniform system, so that each citizen, receiving his quota from the public funds, may fill his proper place in the service of the state. If peace can be preserved, he is better off at home, safe from temptations into which want might lead him. If some such contingency as the present arises, then it is better for him to serve his country in person, as indeed he ought, supported by these same contributions. If anyone is too old to fight, then as overseer or manager of some indispensable work, let him be paid on an equitable system the wages that he now receives without benefit to the state.

In a word, without increasing or lessening our expenditure by more than a trifle, I claim to have removed anomalies and introduced order into the state, establishing a uniform system of pay and of service, whether in the field or in the law-courts or wherever each man finds a task suited to his own age and to the needs of the occasion. Never have I suggested that we should give the worker’s wages to the drone, or that we should ourselves remain inactive, idle, and helpless, and only learn by report that So-and-so’s mercenaries have won a victory. For that is what happens now.

Section 36

I am not indeed blaming the man who does your duty for you, but I call on you to do that for yourselves which you reward others for doing, and not to desert that post of honor, men of Athens, which your ancestors through many glorious hazards won and bequeathed to you.

I have now said almost all that I consider suitable. It is for you to choose what is likely to benefit the city and all of you.

Contents — 65 sections

1. Sections 1–5
2. Sections 6–10
3. Sections 11–15
4. Sections 16–20
5. Sections 21–25
6. Sections 26–30
7. Sections 31–35
8. Sections 36–40
9. Sections 41–45
10. Sections 46–50
11. Sections 51–55
12. Sections 56–60
13. Sections 61–65
14. Sections 66–70
15. Sections 71–75
16. Sections 76–80
17. Sections 81–85
18. Sections 86–90
19. Sections 91–95
20. Sections 96–100
21. Sections 101–105
22. Sections 106–110
23. Sections 111–115
24. Sections 116–120
25. Sections 121–125
26. Sections 126–130
27. Sections 131–135
28. Sections 136–140
29. Sections 141–145
30. Sections 146–150
31. Sections 151–155
32. Sections 156–160
33. Sections 161–165
34. Sections 166–170
35. Sections 171–175
36. Sections 176–180
37. Sections 181–185
38. Sections 186–190
39. Sections 191–195
40. Sections 196–200
41. Sections 201–205
42. Sections 206–210
43. Sections 211–215
44. Sections 216–220
45. Sections 221–225
46. Sections 226–230
47. Sections 231–235
48. Sections 236–240
49. Sections 241–245
50. Sections 246–250
51. Sections 251–255
52. Sections 256–260
53. Sections 261–265
54. Sections 266–270
55. Sections 271–275
56. Sections 276–280
57. Sections 281–285
58. Sections 286–290
59. Sections 291–295
60. Sections 296–300
61. Sections 301–305
62. Sections 306–310
63. Sections 311–315
64. Sections 316–320
65. Sections 321–324

Sections 1–5

Let me begin, men of Athens, by beseeching all the Powers of Heaven that on this trial I may find in Athenian hearts such benevolence towards me as I have ever cherished for the city and the people of Athens. My next prayer is for you, and for your conscience and honor. May the gods so inspire you that the temper with which you listen to my words shall be guided, not by my adversary—

that would be monstrous indeed!— but by the laws and by the judicial oath, by whose terms among other obligations you are sworn to give to both sides an impartial hearing. The purpose of that oath is, not only that you shall discard all prejudice, not only that you shall show equal favor, but also that you shall permit every litigant to dispose and arrange his topics of defence according to his own discretion and judgement.

Among many advantages which Aeschines holds over me in this contention, there are two, men of Athens, of great moment. In the first place, I have a larger stake on the issue; for the loss of your favor is far more serious to me than the loss of your verdict to him. For me, indeed—but let me say nothing inauspicious at the outset of my speech: I will only say that he accuses me at an advantage. Secondly, there is the natural disposition of mankind to listen readily to obloquy and invective, and to resent self-laudation.

To him the agreeable duty has been assigned; the part that is almost always offensive remains for me. If as a safeguard against such offence, I avoid the relation of my own achievements, I shall seem to be unable to refute the charges alleged against me, or to establish my claim to any public distinction. Yet, if I address myself to what I have done, and to the part I have taken in politics, I shall often be obliged to speak about myself. Well, I will endeavor to do so with all possible modesty; and let the man who has initiated this controversy bear the blame of the egoism which the conditions force upon me.

You must all be agreed, men of Athens, that in these proceedings I am concerned equally with Ctesiphon, and that they require from me no less serious consideration. Any loss, especially if inflicted by private animosity, is hard to bear; but to lose your goodwill and kindness is the most painful of all losses, as to gain them is the best of all acquisitions.

Sections 6–10

Such being the issues at stake, I implore you all alike to listen to my defence against the accusations laid, in a spirit of justice. So the laws enjoin—the laws which Solon, who first framed them, a good democrat and friend of the people, thought it right to validate not only by their enactment but by the oath of the jury;

not distrusting you, if I understand him aright, but perceiving that no defendant can defeat the charges and calumnies which the prosecutor prefers with the advantage of prior speech, unless every juryman receives with goodwill the pleas of the second speaker, as an obligation of piety to the gods by whom he has sworn, and forms no final conclusion upon the whole case until he has given a fair and impartial hearing to both sides.

It appears that I have today to render account of the whole of my private life as well as of my public transactions. I must therefore renew my appeal to the gods; and in your presence I now beseech them, first that I may find in your hearts such benevolence towards me as I have ever cherished for Athens, and secondly that they will guide you to such a judgement upon this indictment as shall redound to the good repute of the jury, and to the good conscience of every several juryman.

If then Aeschines had confined his charges to the matters alleged in the prosecution, I should have immediately addressed my defence to the resolution of the Council; but as he has wastefully devoted the greater part of his speech to irrelevant topics, mostly false accusations, I conceive it to be both fair and necessary, men of Athens, to say a few words first on those matters, lest any of you, misled by extraneous arguments, should listen with estrangement to my justification in respect of the indictment.

To his abusive aspersion of my private life, I have, you will observe, an honest and straightforward reply. I have never lived anywhere but in your midst. If then you know my character to be such as he alleges, do not tolerate my voice, even if all my public conduct has been beyond praise, but rise and condemn me incontinently. But if, in your judgement and to your knowledge, I am a better man and better born than Aeschines, if you know me and my family to be, not to put it offensively, as good as the average of respectable people, then refuse credence to all his assertions, for clearly they are all fictitious, and treat me today with the same goodwill which throughout my life you have shown to me in many earlier contentions.

Sections 11–15

Malicious as you are, Aeschines, you were strangely innocent when you imagined that I should turn aside from the discussion of public transactions to reply to your calumnies. I shall do nothing of the sort: I am not so infatuated. Your false and invidious charges against my political life I will examine; but later, if the jury wish to hear me, I will return to your outrageous ribaldry.

The crimes he has laid to my charge are many, and to some of them the law has assigned severe and even capital punishment. But the purpose of this prosecution goes further: it includes private malice and violence, railing and vituperation, and the like; and yet for none of these accusations, if made good, is there any power at all in the state to inflict an adequate penalty, or anything like it.

It is not right to debar a man from access to the Assembly and a fair hearing, still less to do so by way of spite and jealousy. No, by heavens, men of Athens, it is neither just, nor constitutional, nor honest! If he ever saw me committing crimes against the commonwealth, especially such frightful crimes as he described just now so dramatically, his duty was to avail himself of the legal penalties as soon as they were committed, impeaching me, and so putting me on my trial before the people, if my sins deserved impeachment, or indicting me for breach of the constitution, if I had proposed illegal measures. For, of course, if he prosecutes Ctesiphon now on my account, it is impossible that he would not have indicted me, with a certain hope of conviction!

Yet if he detected me in any of the acts which he has recounted to my prejudice, or in any other iniquity, there are statutes dealing with those offences, punishments, legal processes, trials involving severe penalties and heavy fines; and any of these proceedings he might have taken. Had he so acted, had he in that way employed the methods applicable to my case, his denunciations would have been consistent with his conduct;

but in fact he has deserted the path of right and justice, he has flinched from the proof of recent guilt, and then, after a long interval, he makes a hotchpotch of imputation and banter and scurrility, and stands on a false pretence, denouncing me, but indicting Ctesiphon. He sets in the forefront of the controversy his private quarrel with me, in which he has never confronted me fairly; yet he is avowedly seeking to disfranchise somebody else.

Sections 16–20

There are many other arguments, men of Athens, to be pleaded on Ctesiphon’s behalf, but this surely is eminently reasonable, that the honest course was to fight out our own quarrels by ourselves, not to turn aside from our antagonism and try to find some one else to injure. That is carrying iniquity too far!

It is a fair inference that all his accusations are equally dishonest and untruthful. I wish, however, to examine them one by one, and especially the falsehoods he told to my discredit about the peace and the embassy, attributing to me what was really done by himself with the aid of Philocrates. It is necessary, men of Athens, and not improper, to remind you of the position of affairs in those days, so that you may consider each transaction with due regard to its occasion.

When the Phocian war began—not by my fault, for I was still outside politics—you were at first disposed to hope that the Phocians would escape ruin, although you knew that they were in the wrong, and to exult over any misfortune that might befall the Thebans, with whom you were justly and reasonably indignant because of the immoderate use they had made of the advantage they gained at Leuctra. The Peloponnesus was divided. The enemies of the Lacedaemonians were not strong enough to destroy them; and the aristocrats whom the Lacedaemonians had put into power had lost control of the several states. In those states and everywhere else there was indiscriminate strife and confusion.

Philip, observing these conditions, which were apparent enough, spent money freely in bribing traitorous persons in all the cities, and tried to promote embroilment and disorder. He based his designs on the errors and follies of others, and the growth of his power was perilous to us all. When it was evident that the Thebans, now fallen from arrogance to disaster, and much distressed by the prolongation of the war, would be compelled to seek the protection of Athens, Philip, to forestall such an appeal and coalition, offered peace to you and succor to them.

Now what contributed to his success, when he found you ready to fall into his trap almost eagerly, was the baseness, or, if you prefer the term, the stupidity, or both, of the other Greek states. You were fighting a long and incessant war for purposes in which, as the event has proved, they were all concerned, and yet they helped you neither with money, nor with men, nor with anything else; and so, in your just and natural indignation, you readily accepted Philip’s suggestion. The peace conceded to him at that time was due to the causes I have named, and not, as Aeschines maliciously insists, to me; and the misdeeds and the corruption of Aeschines and his party during that peace will be found, on any honest inquiry, to be the true cause of our present troubles.

Sections 21–25

These distinctions and explanations I offer merely for the sake of accuracy; for if you should suppose that there was any guilt, or ever so much guilt, in that peace-making business, the suspicion does not concern me. The first man to raise the question of peace in a speech was Aristodemus, the actor, and the man who took up the cue, moved the resolution, and, with Aeschines, became Philip’s hired agent, was Philocrates of Hagnus—your confederate, Aeschines, not mine, though you lie till you are black in the face. Their supporters in the debate were Eubulus and Cephisophon—on whose motives I have at present nothing to say. I never spoke in favor of the peace.

And yet, though the facts are such and demonstrated to be such, he has the amazing impudence to tell you that I am to blame for the terms of peace, and that I stopped the city from arranging the terms in conjunction with a congress of the Greek states. Why, you, you—but I can find no epithet bad enough for you—was there any single occasion when you, having observed me in your presence trying to rob the state of a negotiation and of an alliance which you have just described as of the greatest importance, either made any protest, or rose to give the people any information whatsoever about the proceeding which you now denounce?

Yet if I had really intrigued with Philip to stop a Panhellenic coalition, it was your business not to hold your peace, but to cry aloud, to protest, to inform the people. You did nothing of the sort. No one ever heard that fine voice of yours. Of course not; for at that time there was no embassy visiting any of the Greek states, but all the states had long ago been sounded, and there is not an honest word in his whole story.

Moreover, his falsehoods are the worst of slanders upon Athens. If at one and the same time you were inviting the Greeks to make war and sending envoys to Philip to negotiate peace, you were playing a part worthy of Eurybatus the impostor, not of a great city or of honest men. But it is false; it is false! For what purpose could you have summoned them at that crisis? For peace? They were all enjoying peace. For war? You were already discussing terms of peace. Therefore it is clear that I did not promote, and was in no way responsible for, the original peace, and that all his other calumnies are equally false.

Now observe what policy we severally adopted after the conclusion of peace. You will thereby ascertain who acted throughout as Philip’s agent, and who served your interests and sought the good of the city. I proposed in the Council that the ambassadors should sail without delay to any place where they might learn that Philip was to be found, and there receive from him the oath of ratification; but in spite of my resolution they refused to go. What was the reason of that refusal?

Sections 26–30

I will tell you. It suited Philip’s purposes that the interval should be as long, and ours that it should be as short as possible; for you had suspended all your preparations for war, not merely from the day of ratification, but from that on which you first began to expect peace. That was just what Philip was contriving all the time, expecting with good reason that he would hold safely any Athenian possessions which he might seize before the ratification, as no one would break the peace to recover them.

Foreseeing that result, and appreciating its importance, I moved that the embassy should repair to the place where they would find Philip and swear him in without delay, in order that the oath might be taken while your allies the Thracians were still holding the places about which Aeschines was so sarcastic—Serrium, Myrtenum, and Ergisce—and that Philip might not get control of Thrace by seizing the positions of advantage and so providing himself amply with men and money for the furtherance of his ulterior designs.

That decree Aeschines neither cites nor reads; though he mentions to my discredit that I suggested in Council that the Macedonian ambassadors should be introduced. What ought I to have done? Objected to the introduction of men who had come expressly to confer with you? Ordered the lessee not to give them reserved seats in the theatre? But they could have sat in the threepenny seats, if I had not moved my resolution. Or was it my business to take care of the public pence, and put up the state for sale, like Aeschines and his friends? Surely not. Please take and read this decree, which the prosecutor omitted, though he knows it well.

(The Decree of Demosthenes is read)

In the archonship of Mnesiphilus, on the thirtieth day of Hecatombaeon, the tribe Pandionis then holding the presidency, Demosthenes, son of Demosthenes, of Paeania, proposed that, whereas Philip has sent ambassadors and has agreed to articles of peace, it be resolved by the Council and People of Athens, with a view to the ratification of the peace as accepted by vote of the first Assembly, to choose at once five ambassadors from all the citizens; and that those so elected repair without delay wheresoever they ascertain Philip to be, and take and administer to him the oaths with all dispatch according to the articles agreed on between him and the People of Athens, including the allies on either side. The ambassadors chosen were Eubulus of Anaphlystus, Aeschines of Cothocidae, Cephisophon of Rhamnus, Democrates of Phlya, Cleon of Cothocidae.

My object in moving this decree was to serve Athens, not Philip. Nevertheless these excellent envoys took so little heed of it that they loitered in Macedonia for three whole months, until Philip returned from Thrace, having subdued the whole country; though they might have reached the Hellespont in ten or perhaps in three or four days, and rescued the outposts by receiving the oaths of ratification before Philip captured them. He dared not have touched them in our presence, or we should not have accepted his oath, and so he would have missed his peace, instead of gaining both his objects—peace and the strongholds as well.

Sections 31–35

Such then is the history of the first act of knavery on Philip’s part, and venality on the part of these dishonest men at the time of the embassy. For that act I avow that I was then, am still, and ever shall be their enemy and their adversary. I will next exhibit an act of still greater turpitude which comes next in order of time.

When Philip had sworn to the peace, having first secured Thrace because of their disobedience to my decree, he bribed them to postpone our departure from Macedonia until he had made ready for his expedition against the Phocians. He was afraid that, if we reported that he intended and was already preparing to march, you would turn out and sail round with your fleet to Thermopylae, and block the passage, as you did before; and his object was that you should not receive our report until he had reached this side of Thermopylae and you were powerless.

He was so nervous, and so much worried by the fear that, in spite of his Thracian success, his enterprise would slip from his fingers if you should intervene before the Phocians perished, that he made a new bargain with this vile creature—all by himself this time, no t in common with his colleagues— to make that speech and to render that report to you, by which all was lost.

I earnestly beg you, men of Athens, to bear in mind throughout this trial that, if Aeschines had not gone outside the articles of indictment in his denunciation of me, I too would not have digressed; but as he has resorted to every sort of imputation and slander, I am compelled to reply briefly to all his charges in turn.

What then were the speeches he made at that crisis—the speeches that brought everything to ruin? He told you that you need not be excited because Philip had passed Thermopylae; that, if only you kept quiet, you would get all you wanted, and would within two or three days learn that Philip was now the friend of those to whom he came as enemy, and the enemy of those to whom he came as friend. The bonds of amity, he declared, with his most impressive eloquence, are fortified not by words but by community of interest; and it was an interest common to Philip, to the Phocians, and to all of you alike, to be quit of the unfeeling and offensive behavior of the Thebans.

Sections 36–40

Some of you were delighted to hear these remarks, for at that time we all disliked the Thebans. What was the result—not the distant, but the immediate result? That the Phocians perished and their cities were demolished; that you took his advice and kept quiet—and before long were carrying in your chattels from the country; and that Aeschines pocketed his fee. A further result was that Athens got all the ill will of the Thebans and Thessalians, and Philip all their gratitude for these transactions.

To prove the truth of these statements, please read the decree of Callisthenes and Philip’s letter, which will make every point clear.

(The Decree of Callisthenes is read)

In the archonship of Mnesiphilus, at an extraordinary assembly convened by the Generals and the Presidents, with the approval of the Council, on the twenty-first day of Maemacterion, Callisthenes, son of Eteonicus of Phalerum, proposed that no Athenian be allowed upon any pretext whatsoever to pass the night in the country, but only in the City and Peiraeus, except those stationed in the garrison; that the latter keep each the post assigned to him, leaving it neither by day nor by night.

Any person disobeying this decree shall be liable to the statutory penalty for treason, unless he can prove inability to obey in his own case, such plea of inability to be judged by the General of the Infantry, the Paymaster-General, and the Secretary of the Council. All property in the country shall be immediately removed, if within a radius of 120 furlongs, to the City and Peiraeus; if outside this radius, to Eleusis, Phyle, Aphidna, Rhamnus, or Sunium. Proposed by Callisthenes of Phalerum.

Was it with such expectation that you made the peace? Were these the promises of this hireling?

Now read the letter sent to Athens afterwards by Philip.

(Philip’s Letter is read)

Philip, King of Macedonia, to the Council and People of Athens, greeting. Know that we have passed within the Gates, and have subdued the district of Phocis. We have put garrisons in all the fortified places that surrendered voluntarily; those that did not obey we have stormed and razed to the ground, selling the inhabitants into slavery. Hearing that you are actually preparing an expedition to help them, I have written to you to save you further trouble in this matter. Your general policy strikes me as unreasonable, to agree to peace, and yet take the field against me, and that although the Phocians were not included in the ill terms upon which we agreed. Therefore if you decline to abide by your agreements, you will gain no advantage save that of being the aggressors.

Though the letter is addressed to you, it contains, as you hear, a distinct intimation intended for his own allies: I have done this against the wishes and the interests of the Athenians. Therefore, if you Thebans and Thessalians are wise, you will treat them as your enemies, and put your confidence in me. That is the meaning conveyed, though not in those words. By such delusions he carried them off their feet so completely that they had no foresight nor any inkling whatever of the sequel, but allowed him to take control of the whole business; and that is the real cause of their present distresses.

Sections 41–45

And the man who was hand-in-glove with Philip, and helped him to win that blind confidence, who brought lying reports to Athens and deluded his fellow-citizens, was this same Aeschines who to day bewails the sorrows of the Thebans and recites their pitiful story, being himself guilty of those sorrows, guilty of the distresses of the Phocians, guilty of all the sufferings of every nation in Greece. Yes, Aeschines, beyond a doubt, you are sincerely grieved by that tale of woe, you are wrung with pity for the poor Thebans, you, who hold estates in Boeotia, you, who till the farms that once were theirs; it is I who exult—I, who was at once claimed as a victim by the perpetrator of those wrongs!

However, I have digressed to topics that will perhaps be more appropriately discussed later on. I return to my proof that the misdeeds of these men are the real cause of the present situation.

When you had been deluded by Philip through the agency of the men who took his pay when on embassy and brought back fictitious reports, and when the unhappy Phocians were likewise deluded, and all their cities destroyed, what happened?

Those vile Thessalians and those ill-conditioned Thebans regarded Philip as their friend, their benefactor, and their deliverer. He was all in all to them; they would not listen to the voice of any one who spoke ill of him. You Athenians, though suspicious and dissatisfied, observed the terms of peace, for you could do nothing. The rest of the Greeks, though similarly overreached and disappointed, observed the peace; and yet in a sense the war against them had already begun;

for when Philip was moving hither and thither, subduing Illyrians and Triballians, and some Greeks as well, when he was gradually getting control of large military resources, and when certain Greek citizens, including Aeschines, were availing themselves of the liberty of the peace to visit Macedonia and take bribes, all these movements were really acts of war upon the states against which Philip was making his preparations. That they failed to perceive it is another story, and does not concern me.

My forebodings and expostulations were unceasing; I uttered them in the Assembly and in every city to which I was sent. But all the cities were demoralized. The active politicians were venal and corrupted by the hope of money: the unofficial classes and the people in general were either blind to the future or ensnared by the listlessness and indolence of their daily life; in all the malady had gone so far that they expected the danger to descend anywhere but upon themselves, and even hoped to derive their security at will from the perils of others.

Sections 46–50

In the result, of course, the excessive and inopportune apathy of the common people has been punished by the loss of their independence, while their leaders, who fancied they were selling everything except themselves, discover too late that their own liberty was the first thing they sold. Instead of the name of trusty friend, in which they rejoiced when they were taking their bribes, they are dubbed toad-eaters and scoundrels, and other suitable epithets. What did they expect?

Men of Athens, it is not because he wants to do a traitor a good turn that a man spends his money; nor, when he has once got what he paid for, has he any further use for the traitor’s counsels. Otherwise treason would be the most profitable of all trades. But it is not so. How could it be? Far from it! As soon as the man who grasps at power has achieved his purpose, he is the master of those who sold him his mastery; and then—yes, then!—knowing their baseness, he loathes them, mistrusts them, and reviles them.

Look at these instances, because, though the right time for action is past, for wise men it is always the right time to understand history. Lasthenes was hailed as friend—until he betrayed Olynthus; Timolaus, until he brought Thebes to ruin; Eudicus and Simus of Larissa, until they put Thessaly under Philip’s heel. Since then the whole world has become crowded with men exiled, insulted, punished in every conceivable way. What of Aristratus at Sicyon? or Perilaus at Megara? Are they not outcasts?

From these examples it may be clearly discerned that the man who is most vigilant in defence of his country and most vigorous in his opposition to treason—he is the man, Aeschines, who provides you traitors and mercenaries with something that you can betray for a bribe; and, if you are still secure and still drawing your pay, you owe this to the great majority of these citizens, and to those who thwarted your purposes—for your own efforts would long ago have brought you to destruction.

I could say much more about the history of that time, but I suppose that what has been said is more than enough. My antagonist is to blame, for he has so bespattered me with the sour dregs of his own knavery and his own crimes, that I was obliged to clear myself in the eyes of men too young to remember those transactions. But it has perhaps been wearisome to you, who, before I said a word, knew all about his venality.

Sections 51–55

However, he calls it friendship and amity; and only just now he spoke of the man who taunts me with the friendship of Alexander. I taunt you with the friendship of Alexander! Where did you get it? How did you earn it? I am not out of my mind, and I would never call you the friend either of Philip or Alexander, unless we are to call a harvester or other hired laborer the friend of the man who pays him for his job.

But it is not so. How could it be? Far from it! I call you Philip’s hireling of yesterday, and Alexander’s hireling of today, and so does every man in this Assembly. If you doubt my word, ask them; or rather I will ask them myself. Come, men of Athens, what do you think? Is Aeschines Alexander’s hireling, or Alexander’s friend? You hear what they say.

I propose then at last to come to my defence against the actual indictment, and to a recital of my public acts, that Aeschines may hear from me what he knows perfectly well, the grounds on which I claim that I deserve even larger rewards than those proposed by the Council. Please take and read the indictment.

(The Indictment is read)

In the archonship of Chaerondas, on the sixth day of Elaphebolion, Aeschines, son of Atrometus, of Cothocidae, indicted Ctesiphon, son of Leosthenes, of Anaphlystus, before the Archon for a breach of the constitution, in that he proposed an unconstitutional decree, to wit, that Demosthenes, son of Demosthenes, of Paeania should be crowned with a golden crown, and that proclamation should be made in the theatre at the Great Dionysia, when the new tragedies are produced, that the People crown Demosthenes, son of Demosthenes, of Paeania, with a golden crown for his merit and for the goodwill which he has constantly displayed both towards all the Greeks and towards the people of Athens, and also for his steadfastness, and because he has constantly by word and deed promoted the best interests of the people, and is forward to do whatever good he can,

all these proposals being false and unconstitutional, inasmuch as the laws forbid, first, the entry of false statements in the public records; secondly, the crowning of one liable to audit (now Demosthenes is Commissioner of Fortifications and a trustee of the Theatrical Fund); thirdly, the proclamation of the crown in the Theatre at the Dionysia the day of the new tragedies; but if the crowning is by the Council, it shall be proclaimed in the Council-house, if by the State, in the Assembly on the Pnyx. Fine demanded: fifty talents. Witnesses to summons: Cephisophon, son of Cephisophon, of Rhamnus, Cleon, son of Cleon, of Cothocidae.

Sections 56–60

These are the clauses of the decree against which this prosecution is directed; but from these very clauses I hope to prove to your satisfaction that I have an honest defence to offer. For I will take the charges one by one in the same order as the prosecutor, without any intentional omission.

Now take first the clause which recites that in word and deed I have constantly done my best for the common weal, and that I am ever zealous to do all the good in my power, and which commends me on those grounds. Your judgement on that clause must, I take it, depend simply on my public acts, by examining which you will discover whether Ctesiphon has given a true and proper, or a false, description of my conduct.

As for his proposing that a crown should be given to me, and the decoration proclaimed in the Theatre, without adding the words, provided he shall first have rendered his accounts, I conceive that that also is related to my public acts, whether I am, or am not, worthy of the crown and of the proclamation before the people; but I have, however, also to cite the statutes that authorize such a proposal. In this way, men of Athens, I am resolved to offer an honest and straightforward defence. I will proceed at once to the history of my own actions;

and let no one imagine that I am straying from the indictment if I touch upon Hellenic policy and Hellenic questions; for by attacking as mendacious that clause of the decree which alleges that in word and deed I have acted for the common good, it is Aeschines who has made a discussion of the whole of my public life necessary and pertinent to the indictment. Further, out of many spheres of public activity I chose Hellenic affairs as my province, and therefore I am justified in taking Hellenic policy as the basis of my demonstration.

Well, I pass by those successes which Philip achieved and maintained before I became a politician and a public speaker, as I do not think that they concern me. I will, however, remind you of enterprises of his which were thwarted after the day on which I entered public life. Of these I will render an account, premising only that Philip started with this enormous advantage.

Sections 61–65

In all the Greek states—not in some but in every one of them—it chanced that there had sprung up the most abundant crop of traitorous, venal, and profligate politicians ever known within the memory of mankind. These persons Philip adopted as his satellites and accomplices. The disposition of Greeks towards one another was already vicious and quarrelsome and he made it worse. Some he cajoled; some he bribed; some he corrupted in every possible way. He split them into many factions, although all had one common interest—to thwart his aggrandizement.

Now seeing that all Greece was in such a plight, and still unconscious of a gathering and ever-growing evil, what was the right policy for Athens to adopt, and the right action for her to take? That is the question, men of Athens, which you ought to consider, and that is the issue on which I ought to be called to account; for I was the man who took up a firm position in that department of your public affairs.

Was it the duty of our city, Aeschines, to abase her pride, to lower her dignity, to rank herself with Thessalians and Dolopians, to help Philip to establish his supremacy over Greece, to annihilate the glories and the prerogatives of our forefathers? Or, if she rejected that truly shameful policy, was she to stand by and permit aggressions which she must have long foreseen, and knew would succeed if none should intervene?

I would now like to ask the man who censures our past conduct most severely, what party he would have wished our city to join. The party that shares the guilt of all the disasters and dishonors that have befallen Greece,—the party, as one may say, of the Thessalians and their associates? Or that which permitted those disasters in the hope of selfish gain, the party in which we may include the Arcadians, the Messenians, and the Argives?

Why, the fate of many, indeed of all, of those nations is worse than ours. For if, after his victory, Philip had at once taken himself off, and relapsed into inactivity, harassing neither his own allies nor any other Greeks, there might have been some reason for finding fault with the opponents of his enterprises; but seeing that, wherever he could, he destroyed the prestige, the authority, the independence, and even the constitution of every city alike, who can deny that you chose the most honor able of all policies when you followed my advice?

Sections 66–70

To resume my argument: I ask you, Aeschines, what was the duty of Athens when she perceived that Philip’s purpose was to establish a despotic empire over all Greece? What language, what counsels, were incumbent upon an adviser of the people at Athens, of all places in the world, when I was conscious that, from the dawn of her history to the day when I first ascended the tribune, our country had ever striven for primacy, and honor, and renown, and that to serve an honor able ambition and the common welfare of Greece she had expended her treasure and the lives of her sons far more generously than any other Hellenic state fighting only for itself;

and knowing as I did that our antagonist Philip himself, contending for empire and supremacy, had endured the loss of his eye, the fracture of his collar-bone, the mutilation of his hand and his leg, and was ready to sacrifice to the fortune of war any and every part of his body, if only the life of the shattered remnant should be a life of honor and renown?

Surely no man will dare to call it becoming that in a man reared at Pella, then a mean and insignificant city, such lofty ambition should be innate as to covet the dominion of all Greece, and admit that aspiration to his soul, while you, natives of Athens, observing day by day, in every speech you hear and ill every spectacle you behold, memorials of the high prowess of your forefathers, should sink to such cowardice as by a spontaneous, voluntary act to surrender your liberty to a Philip.

No one will make that assertion. The only remaining, and the necessary, policy was to resist with justice all his unjust designs. That policy was adopted by you from the start in a spirit that well became you, and forwarded by me in all my proposals, according to the opportunities of my public life. I admit the charge. Tell me; what ought I to have done? I put the question to you, Aeschines, dismissing for the moment everything else—Amphipolis, Pydna, Potidaea, Halonnesus. I have no recollection of those places.

Serrium, Doriscus, the sack of Peparethus, and all other injuries of our city—I ignore them utterly. Yet you told us that I entangled the citizens in a quarrel by my talk about those places, though every resolution that concerned them was moved by Eubulus, or Aristophon, or Diopeithes, not by me; only you allege so glibly whatever suits your purpose!

Sections 71–75

Even now I will not discuss them. But here was a man annexing Euboea and making it a basis of operations against Attica, attacking Megara, occupying Oreus, demolishing Porthmus, establishing the tyranny of Philistides at Oreus and of Cleitarchus at Eretria, subjugating the Hellespont, besieging Byzantium, destroying some of the Greek cities, reinstating exiled traitors in others: by these acts was he, or was he not, committing injustice, breaking treaty, and violating the terms of peace? Was it, or was it not, right that some man of Grecian race should stand forward to stop those aggressions?

If it was not right, if Greece was to present the spectacle, as the phrase goes, of the looting of Mysia, while Athenians still lived and breathed, then I am a busybody, because I spoke of those matters, and Athens, too, is a busybody because she listened to me; and let all her misdeeds and blunders be charged to my account! But if it was right that some one should intervene, on whom did the duty fall, if not on the Athenian democracy? That then was my policy. I saw a man enslaving all mankind, and I stood in his way. I never ceased warning you and admonishing you to surrender nothing.

The peace was broken by Philip, when he seized those merchantmen; not by Athens, Aeschines. Produce the decrees, and Philip’s letter, and read them in their proper order. They will show who was responsible for each several proceeding.

(A Decree is read)

In the archonship of Neocles, in the month Boedromion, at an extraordinary meeting of the Assembly convened by the Generals, Eubulus, son of Mnesitheus, of Coprus, proposed that, whereas the generals have announced in the assembly that the admiral Leodamas and the twenty ships under his command, sent to the Hellespont to convoy corn, have been removed to Macedon by Philip’s officer, Amyntas, and are there kept in custody, it shall be the concern of the presidents and of the generals that the Council be convened and ambassadors chosen to go to Philip;

that on their arrival they shall confer with him about the seizure of the admiral and the ships and the soldiers, and, if Amyntas acted in ignorance, they shall say that the people attach no blame to him; or, if the admiral was caught exceeding his instructions, that the Athenians will investigate the matter, and punish him as his carelessness shall deserve; if, on the other hand, neither of these suppositions is true, but it was a deliberate affront on the part either of the officer or of his superior, they shall state the same, in order that the people, being apprised of it, may decide what course to take.

This decree was drawn up by Eubulus, not by me; the next in order by Aristophon; then we have Hegesippus, then Aristophon again, then Philocrates, then Cephisophon, and so on. I proposed no decree dealing with these matters. Go on reading.

(Another Decree is read)

In the archonship of Neocles, on the thirtieth day of Boedromion, by sanction of the Council, the Presidents and Generals introduced the report of the proceedings in the Assembly, to wit, that the People had resolved that ambassadors be chosen to approach Philip concerning the removal of the vessels, and instructions be given them in accordance with the decrees of the Assembly. The following were chosen: Cephisophon, son of Cleon, of Anaphlystus, Democritus, son of Demophon, of Anagyrus, Polycritus, son of Apemantus, of Cothocidae. In the presidence of the tribe Hippothontis, proposed by Aristophon, of Collytus, a president.

Sections 76–80

As I cite these decrees, Aeschines, you must cite some decree by proposing which I became responsible for the war. But you cannot cite one; if you could, there is no document which you would have produced more readily just now. Why, even Philip’s letter casts no blame upon me in respect of the war: he imputes it to other men. Read Philip’s actual letter.

(Philip’s Letter is read)

Philip, King of Macedonia, to the Council and People of Athens, greeting.—Your ambassadors, Cephisophon and Democritus and Polycritus, visited me and discussed the release of the vessels commanded by Leodamas. Now, speaking generally, it seems to me that you will be very simple people if you imagine that I do not know that the vessels were sent ostensibly to convey corn from the Hellespont to Lemnos, but really to help the Selymbrians, who are being besieged by me and are not included in the articles of friendship mutually agreed upon between us.

These instructions were given to the admiral, without the cognizance of the Athenian People, by certain officials and by others who are now out of office, but who were anxious by every means in their power to change the present friendly attitude of the people towards me to one of open hostility, being indeed much more zealous for this consummation than for the relief of the Selymbrians. They conceive that such a policy will be a source of income to themselves; it does not, however, strike me as profitable either for you or for me. Therefore the vessels now in my harbors I hereby release to you; and for the future, if, instead of permitting your statesmen to pursue this malicious policy, you will be good enough to c ensure them, I too will endeavor to preserve the peace. Farewell.

In this letter there is no mention of the name of Demosthenes, nor any charge against me. Why does he forget my acts, when he blames others? Because he could not mention me without recalling his own transgressions, on which I fixed my attention, and which I strove to resist. I began by proposing the embassy to Peloponnesus, when first he tried to get a footing there; then the embassy to Euboea, when he was tampering with Euboea; then an expedition— not an embassy—to Oreus, and again to Eretria, when he had set up tyrants in those cities.

Subsequently I dispatched all those squadrons by which the Chersonese was rescued from him, and Byzantium, and all our allies. By this policy you gained much glory, receiving commendations, eulogies, compliments, decorations, and votes of thanks from the recipients of y our favors. Of the nations that suffered aggression, those who followed your advice gained their salvation, while those who scorned it have had many occasions since to remember your warnings, and to acknowledge not only your goodwill but your sagacity and foresight, for everything has turned out as you predicted.

Sections 81–85

Now that Philistides would have paid a large sum for possession of Oreus, and Cleitarchus for possession of Eretria, and Philip himself to get those advantages of position against you, or to escape conviction in other matters or any inquiry into his wrongdoing in every quarter, is well known to all—and to no one better than to you, Aeschines.

For the ambassadors who came here from Cleitarchus and Philistides lodged at your house and you entertained them. The government expelled them as enemies, and as men whose proposals were dishonest and unacceptable; but to you they were friends. Well, no part of their business was successful,—you backbiter, who tell me that I hold my tongue with a fee in my pocket, and cry aloud when I have spent it! That is not your habit; you cry aloud without ceasing, and nothing will ever stop your mouth,—except perhaps a sentence of disfranchisement this very day.

Although at that time you decorated me for my services, although Aristonicus drafted the decree in the very same terms that Ctesiphon has now used, although the decoration was proclaimed in the theatre, so that this is the second proclamation of my name there, Aeschines, who was present, never opposed the decree, nor did he indict the proposer. Take and read the decree in question.

(The Decree is read)

In the archonship of Chaerondas, son of Hegemon, on the twenty-fifth day of Gamelion, the tribe Leontis holding the presidency, Aristonicus of Phrearrii proposed that, whereas Demosthenes, son of Demosthenes, of Paeania, has conferred many great obligations on the People of Athens, and has aided many of the Allies by his decrees both heretofore and upon the present occasion, and has liberated some of the cities of Euboea, and is a constant friend of the Athenian People, and by word and deed does his utmost in the interests of the Athenians themselves as well as of the other Greeks, it be resolved by the Council and People of Athens to commend Demosthenes, son of Demosthenes, of Paeania, and to crown him with a golden crown, and to proclaim the crown in the Theatre at the Dionysia at the performance of the new tragedies, the proclamation of the crown being entrusted to the tribe holding the presidency and to the steward of the festival. Proposed by Aristonicus of Phrearrii.

Is any one of you aware of any dishonor, contempt, or ridicule that has befallen the city in consequence of that decree, such as he now tells you will follow, if I am crowned? While acts are still recent and notorious, they are requited with gratitude, if good, and with punishment, if evil, and from this decree it appears that I received on that occasion gratitude, not censure nor punishment.

Sections 86–90

Therefore, up to the date of those transactions it is shown by common consent that my conduct was entirely beneficial to the commonwealth. The proofs are, that my speeches and motions were successful at your deliberations; that my resolutions were carried into effect; that thereby decorations came to the city and to all of you as well as to me; and that for these successes you thanked the gods with sacrifices and processions.

When Philip was driven out of Euboea by your arms, and also,—though these men choke themselves with their denials,—by my policy and my decrees, he cast about for a second plan of attack against Athens; and observing that we consume more imported corn than any other nation, he proposed to get control of the carrying trade in corn. He advanced towards Thrace, and the first thing he did was to claim the help of the Byzantines as his allies in the war against you. When they refused, declaring with entire truth that the terms of alliance included no such obligation, he set up a stockade against their city, planted artillery, and began a siege.

I will not further ask what was your proper course in those circumstances,—the answer is too obvious. But who sent reinforcements to the Byzantines and delivered them? Who prevented the estrangement of the Hellespont at that crisis? You, men of Athens; and when I say you, I mean the whole city. Who advised the city, moved the resolutions, took action, devoted himself wholeheartedly and without stint to that business?

I did; and I need not argue how profitable my policy was, for you know it by experience. The war in which we then engaged, apart from the renown it brought to you, made all the necessaries of life more abundant and cheaper than the peace we now enjoy, the peace which these worthies cherish to the disadvantage of the city, in view of future expectations! May those expectations fail! May they share only the blessings for which you men of honest intent supplicate the gods! And may they never bestow upon you any share in the principles they have chosen! Now read of the crowns of the Byzantines and of the Perinthians, conferred by them upon the city for these services.

(The Decree of the Byzantines is read)

In the recordership of Bosporichus, Damagetus proposed in the Assembly, with the sanction of the Council, that, whereas the Athenian People in former times have been constant friends of the Byzantines and of their allies and kinsmen the Perinthians, and have conferred many great services upon them, and recently, when Philip of Macedon attacked their land and city to exterminate the Byzantines and Perinthians, burning and devastating the land, they came to our aid with a hundred and twenty ships and provisions and arms and infantry, and extricated us from great dangers, and restored our original constitution and our laws and our sepulchres,

Sections 91–95

it be resolved by the People of Byzantium and Perinthus to grant to the Athenians rights of intermarriage, citizenship, tenure of land and houses, the seat of honor at the games, access to the Council and the people immediately after the sacrifices, and immunity from all public services for those who wish to settle in our city; also to erect three statues, sixteen cubits in height, in the Bosporeum, representing the People of Athens being crowned by the Peoples of Byzantium and Perinthus; also to send deputations to the Panhellenic gatherings, the Isthmian, Nemean, Olympian, and Pythian games, and there to proclaim the crown wherewith the Athenian People has been crowned by us, that the Greeks may know the merits of the Athenians and the gratitude of the Byzantines and the Perinthians.

Read also of the crowns awarded by the inhabitants of the Chersonese.

(The Decree of the Chersonesites is read.)

The peoples of the Chersonesus inhabiting Sestus, Elaeus, Madytus, and Alopeconnesus, do crown the Council and People of Athens with a golden crown of sixty talents’ value, and erect an altar to Gratitude and to the People of Athens, because they have been a contributory cause of all the greatest blessings to the peoples of the Chersonesus, having rescued them from Philip and restored their fatherland, their laws, their freedom, and their temples; also in all time to come they will not fail to be grateful and to do them every service in their power. This decree was passed in Confederate Council.

Thus my considered policy was not only successful in delivering the Chersonese and Byzantium, in preventing the subjugation of the Hellespont to Philip, and in bringing distinction to the city, but it exhibited to mankind the noble spirit of Athens and the depravity of Philip. For he, the ally of the Byzantines, was besieging them in the sight of all men: could anything be more discreditable and outrageous?

But you, who might with justice have found fault with them for earlier acts of trespass, so far from being vindictive and deserting them in their distress, appeared as their deliverers, and by that conduct won renown,—the goodwill of the whole world. Moreover all know that you have awarded crowns to many politicians; but no one can name any man—I mean any statesman or orator—except me, by whose exertions the city itself has been crowned.

I wish to show you that the attack Aeschines made on the Euboeans and the Byzantines by raking up old stories of their disobliging conduct towards you, was mere spiteful calumny,—not only because, as I think you all must know, those stories are false, but because, even if they were entirely true, the merits of my policy are not affected,—by relating, with due brevity, two or three of the noble actions of your own commonwealth; for the public conduct of a state, like the private conduct of a man, should always be guided by its most honor able traditions.

Sections 96–100

When the Lacedaemonians, men of Athens, had the supremacy of land and sea, and were holding with governors and garrisons all the frontiers of Attica, Euboea, Tanagra, all Boeotia, Megara, Aegina, Ceos, and the other islands, for at that time Athens had no ships and no walls, you marched out to Haliartus, and again a few days later to Corinth. The Athenians of those days had good reason to bear malice against the Corinthians and the Thebans for their conduct during the Decelean War; but they bore no malice whatever.

Yet in making both these expeditions, Aeschines, they were not requiting benefits received, and they knew they were taking risks. They did not use those pleas as excuses for deserting men who had sought their protection. For the sake of honor and glory they willingly encountered those perils,—a righteous and a noble resolve! For every man death is the goal of life, though he keep himself cloistered in his chamber; but it behoves the brave to set their hands to every noble enterprise, bearing before them the buckler of hope, and to endure gallantly whatever fate God may allot.

So your forefathers played their part; so also did the elder among yourselves. The Lacedaemonians were no friends or benefactors of ours; they had done many grievous wrongs to our commonwealth; but when the Thebans, after their victory at Leuctra, threatened to exterminate them, you balked that revenge, without fear of the prowess and high repute of the Thebans, without thought of the past misdeeds of the people for whom you imperilled yourselves.

And so you taught to all Greece the lesson that, however gravely a nation may have offended against you, you keep your resentment for proper occasions, but if ever their life or their liberty is endangered, you will not indulge your rancor or take your wrongs into account.

Not only towards the Lacedaemonians have you so demeaned yourselves; but when the Thebans were trying to annex Euboea, you were not indifferent; you did not call to mind the injuries you had suffered from Themiso and Theodorus in the matter of Oropus; you carried aid even to them. That was in the early days of the volunteer trierarchs, of whom I was one; but I say nothing of that now.

Your deliverance of the island was a generous act, but still more generously, when you had their lives and their cities at your mercy, you restored them honestly to men who had sinned against you, forgetting your wrongs where you found yourselves trusted. I pass over ten thousand instances I could cite,—battles by sea, expeditions by land, campaigns of ancient date and of our own times, in all of which Athens engaged herself for the freedom and salvation of Greece.

Sections 101–105

Having before my eyes the spectacle of a city in all those great enterprises ready to fight the battles of her neighbors, what advice was I to give and what policy to urge, when her deliberations in some measure concerned herself? To bear malice against men who were seeking deliverance? To search for excuses for deserting the common cause? Should I not have deserved death if even in word I had sought to tarnish our honor able traditions? In word, I say; for the deed you would never have done. Of that I am well assured, for if you so wished, what stood in your way? Was it not in your power? Were not Aeschines and his friends there to advise you?

I will now return to my next ensuing public actions; consider them once again in relation to the best interests of the commonwealth. Observing that the navy was going to pieces, that the wealthy were let off with trifling contributions, while citizens of moderate or small means were losing all they had, and that as a result the government was missing its opportunities, I made a statute under which I compelled the wealthy to take their fair share of expense, stopped the oppression of the poor, and, by a measure of great public benefit, caused your naval preparations to be made in good time.

Being indicted for this measure, I stood my trial before this court and was acquitted, the prosecutor not getting the fifth part of the votes. Now how much money do you think the first, second, and third classes of contributors on the Naval Boards offered me not to propose the measure, or, failing that, to put it on the list and then drop it on demurrer?\b It was so large a sum, men of Athens, that I hardly like to name it.

It was natural that they should make this attempt. Under the former statutes they might discharge their public services in groups of sixteen, spending little or nothing themselves, but grinding down the needy citizens, whereas by my statute they had to return the full assessment according to their means, and a man who was formerly one of sixteen contributors to a single trireme—for they were dropping the term trierarch and calling themselves contributors-might have to furnish two complete vessels. They offered any amount to get the new rules abrogated and escape their just obligation.

Read first the decree, for which I was indicted and tried, and then the schedules as compiled under the old statute under my statute.

(The Decree is read)

In the archonship of Polycles, on the sixteenth of the month Boëdromion, the tribe Hippothontis holding the presidency, Demosthenes, son of Demosthenes, of Paeania, introduced a bill to amend the former law constituting the syndicates for the equipment of triremes. The bill was passed by the Council and the People, and Patrocles of Phlya indicted Demosthenes for a breach of the constitution, and, not obtaining the required proportion of votes, paid the fee of five hundred drachmas.

Now read that fine schedule.

(The Old Schedule is read)

The trierarchs to be called up, sixteen for each trireme, from the associations of joint contributors, from the age of twenty-five to that of forty, paying equal contributions to the public service.

Sections 106–110

Now read for comparison the schedule under my statute.

(The New Schedule is read)

The trierarchs to be chosen according to the assessment of their property at ten talents to a trireme; if the property be assessed above that sum, the public service shall be fixed proportionately up to three triremes and a tender. The same proportion shall be observed where those whose property is under ten talents form a syndicate to make up that sum.

Do you think it was a trifling relief I gave to the poor, or a trifling sum that the rich would have spent to escape their obligation? I pride myself not only on my refusal of compromise and on my acquittal, but also on having enacted a beneficial law and proved it such by experience. During the whole war, while the squadrons were organized under my regulations, no trierarch made petition as aggrieved, or appeared as a suppliant in the dockyard temple, or was imprisoned by the Admiralty, and no ship was either abandoned at sea and lost to the state, or left in harbor as unseaworthy.

Such incidents were frequent under the old regulations, because the public services fell upon poor men, and impossible demands were often made. I transferred the naval obligations from needy to well-to-do people, and so the duty was always discharged. I also claim credit for the very fact that all the measures I adopted brought renown and distinction and strength to the city, and that no measure of mine was invidious, or vexatious, or spiteful, or shabby and unworthy of Athens.

You will find that I maintained the same character both in domestic and in Hellenic policy. At home I never preferred the gratitude of the rich to the claims of the poor; in foreign affairs I never coveted the gifts and the friendship of Philip rather than the common interests of all Greece.

My remaining task, I think, is to speak of the proclamation and of the audit; for I hope that what I have already said has been sufficient to satisfy you that my policy was the best, and that I have been the people’s friend, and zealous in your service. Yet I pass by the most important of my public actions, first, because I conceive that my next duty is to submit my explanations in respect of the actual charge of illegality, secondly, because, though I say nothing further about the rest of my policy, your own knowledge will serve my purpose equally well.

Sections 111–115

As for Aeschines’ topsy-turvy miscellany of arguments about the statutes transcribed for comparison, I vow to Heaven that I do not believe that you understand the greater part of them, and I am sure they were quite unintelligible to me. I can only offer a plain, straightforward plea on the rights of the matter. So far from claiming, as he invidiously suggested just now, that I am not to be called to account, I fully admit that all my life long I have been accountable for all my official acts and public counsels;

but for the donations that I promised and gave at my own expense I do say that I am not accountable at any time— you hear that, Aeschines—nor is any other man, though he be one of the nine archons. Is there any law so compact of iniquity and illiberality that, when a man out of sheer generosity has given away his own money, it defrauds him of the gratitude he has earned, drags him before a set of prying informers, and gives them authority to hold an audit of his free donations? There is no such law. If he contradicts me, let him produce the law, and I will be satisfied and hold my peace.

But no, the law does not exist, men of Athens; only this man, with his pettifogging spite, because, when I was in charge of the theatric fund, I added gifts of my own to that fund, says, Ctesiphon gave him a vote of thanks before he had rendered his accounts. Yes, but the vote of thanks did not concern the accounts which I had to render; it was for my own donations, you pettifogger! But you were also a Commissioner of Fortifications. Why, that is how I earned my vote of thanks: I made a present of the money I had spent, and did not charge it to the public account. The account requires an audit and checkers; the benefaction deserves gratitude and formal thanks, and that is the very reason for Ctesiphon’s proposition.

That this distinction is recognized both in the statutes and in your moral feelings I can prove by many instances. Nausicles, for example, has been repeatedly decorated by you for the money he spent out of his own pocket when serving as military commander. When Diotimus, and on another occasion Charidemus, had made a present of shields, they were crowned. Then there is our friend Neoptolemus, who has received distinctions for donations given by him as Commissioner for sundry public works. It would be quite intolerable that it should either be illegal for a man holding any office to make presents to the government, or that, when he has made them, instead of receiving thanks, he should be subjected to an audit.

To prove the truth of my statement, please take and read the actual words of the decrees made in the cases I have cited. Read.

(Sundry Decrees are read)

Archonship of Demonicus of Phlya, on the twenty-sixth day of Boedromion, with sanction of Council and People: Callias of Phrearrii proposed that the Council and People resolve to crown Nausicles, the commander of the infantry, because, when Philo, the official paymaster, was prevented by storms from sailing with pay for the two thousand Athenian infantry serving in Imbros to assist the Athenian residents in that island, he paid them from his private means, and did not send in a claim to the people; and that the crown be proclaimed at the Dionysia at the performance of the new tragedies.

Sections 116–120

Proposed by Callias of Phrearrii, and put to vote by the presidents, with sanction of Council: that, whereas Charidemus, dispatched to Salamis in command of the infantry, and Diotimus, commanding the cavalry, when in the battle at the river some of the soldiers had been disarmed by the enemy, did at their own expense arm the younger men with eight hundred shields, it be resolved by the Council and People to crown Charidemus and Diotimus with a golden crown, and to proclaim it at the great Panathenaea during the gymnastic contest, and at the Dionysia at the performance of the new tragedies; and that the proclamation be entrusted to the judicial archons, the presidents, and the stewards of the festival.

Every one of the persons mentioned, Aeschines, was liable to audit in respect of the office he held, but not of the services for which he was decorated. It follows that I am not liable; for, surely, I have the same rights under the same conditions as anybody else! I made donations. For those donations I am thanked, not being subject to audit for what I gave. I held office. Yes, and I have submitted to audit for my offices, though not for my gifts. Ah, but perhaps I was guilty of official misconduct? Well, the auditors brought me into court—and no complaint from you!

To prove that Aeschines himself testifies that I have been crowned for matters in which I was audit-free, take and read the whole of the decree that was drawn in my favor. The proof that his prosecution is vindictive will appear from those sentences in the provisional decree which he has not indicted. Read.

(The Decree is read)

In the archonship of Euthycles, on the twenty-third day of Pyanepsion, the tribe Oeneis then holding the presidency, Ctesiphon, son of Leosthenes, of Anaphlystus, proposed that, whereas Demosthenes, son of Demosthenes, of Paeania, having been appointed superintendent of the repair of the fortifications, and having spent upon the works three talents from his private means, has made the same a benevolence to the people; and whereas, having been appointed treasurer of the Theatrical Fund, he gave to the representatives of all the tribes one hundred minas for sacrifices, it be resolved by the Council and People of Athens to commend the said Demosthenes, son of Demosthenes, of Paeania, for his merits and for the generosity which he has constantly displayed on every occasion towards the People of Athens, and to crown him with a golden crown, and to proclaim the crown in the theatre at the Dionysia at the performance of the new tragedies and that the proclamation be entrusted to the steward of the festival.

Here, then, are my donations, in the decree—but not in your indictment. Your prosecution is directed to the rewards which the Council says that I ought to receive for them. Acceptance of gifts you admit to be legal; gratitude for gifts you indict for illegality. In Heaven’s name, what do we mean by dishonesty and malignity, if you are not dishonest and malignant?

As for the proclamation in the Theatre, I will not insist that thousands of names have been a thousand times so proclaimed, nor that I myself have been crowned again and again before now. But, really now, are you so unintelligent and blind, Aeschines, that you are incapable of reflecting that a crown is equally gratifying to the person crowned wheresoever it is proclaimed, but that the proclamation is made in the Theatre merely for the sake of those by whom it is conferred? For the whole vast audience is stimulated to do service to the commonwealth, and applauds the exhibition of gratitude rather than the recipient; and that is the reason why the state has enacted this statute. Please take and read it.

(The Statute is read

In cases where crowns are bestowed by any of the townships, the proclamation of the crown shall be made within the respective townships, unless the crown is bestowed by the People of Athens or by the Council, in which case it shall be lawful to proclaim it in the Theatre at the Dionysia.

Sections 121–125

You hear, Aeschines, how the statute expressly makes an exception: persons named in any decree of the Council or the Assembly always excepted. They are to be proclaimed. Then why this miserable pettifogging? Why these insincere arguments? Why do you not try hellebore for your complaint? Are you not ashamed to prosecute for spite, not for crime; misquoting this statute, curtailing that statute, when they ought to be read in their entirety to a jury sworn to vote according to their direction?

And, while behaving like that, you treat us to your definition of all the qualities proper to a patriotic politician—as though you had bespoken a statue according to specification, and it had been delivered without the qualities specified ! As though talk, not deeds and policy, were the criterion of patriotism ! And then you raise your voice, like a clown at a carnival, and pelt me with epithets both decent and obscene, suitable for yourself and your kindred, but not for me.

Here is another point, men of Athens. The difference between railing and accusation I take to be this: accusation implies crimes punishable by law; railing, such abuse as quarrelsome people vent upon one another according to their disposition. These law courts, if I am not mistaken, were built by our ancestors, not that we should convene you here to listen to us taunting one another with the secret scandal of private life, but that we should here bring home to the guilty offences against the public weal.

Aeschines knows that as well as I do; but he has a keener taste for scurrility than for accusation. However, even in that respect he deserves to get as good as he gives. I will come to that presently; meantime I will ask him just one question. Are we to call you the enemy of Athens, Aeschines, or my enemy? Mine, of course. Yet you let slip your proper opportunities of bringing me to justice on behalf of the citizens, if I had done wrong, by audit, by indictment, by any sort of legal procedure;

but here, where I am invulnerable on every ground, by law, by lapse of time, by limitation, by many earlier judgements covering every point, by default of any previous conviction for any public offence, here, where the country must take her share in the repute or disrepute of measures that were approved by the people, here you have met me face to face. You pose as my enemy; are you sure you are not the enemy of the people?

Sections 126–130

A righteous and conscientious verdict is now sufficiently indicated; but I have still, as it seems—not because I have any taste for railing, but because of his calumnies—to state the bare necessary facts about Aeschines, in return for a great many lies. I must let you know who this man, who starts on vituperation so glibly—who ridicules certain words of mine though he has himself said things that every decent man would shrink from uttering—really is, and what is his parentage.

Why, if my calumniator had been Aeacus, or Rhadamanthus, or Minos, instead of a mere scandalmonger, a market-place loafer, a poor devil of a clerk, he could hardly have used such language, or equipped himself with such offensive expressions. Hark to his melodramatic bombast: Oh, Earth! Oh, Sun! Oh, Virtue, and all that vaporing; his appeals to intelligence and education, whereby we discriminate between things of good and evil report—for that was the sort of rubbish you heard him spouting.

Virtue! you runagate; what have you or your family to do with virtue? How do you distinguish between good and evil report? Where and how did you qualify as a moralist? Where did you get your right to talk about education? No really educated man would use such language about himself, but would rather blush to hear it from others; but people like you, who make stupid pretensions to the culture of which they are utterly destitute, succeed in disgusting everybody whenever they open their lips, but never in making the impression they desire.

I am at no loss for information about you and your family; but I am at a loss where to begin. Shall I relate how your father Tromes was a slave in the house of Elpias, who kept an elementary school near the Temple of Theseus, and how he wore shackles on his legs and a timber collar round his neck? or how your mother practised daylight nuptials in an outhouse next door to Heros the bone-setter, and so brought you up to act in tableaux vivants and to excel in minor parts on the stage? However, everybody knows that without being told by me. Shall I tell you how Phormio the boatswain, a slave of Dio of Phrearrii, uplifted her from that chaste profession? But I protest that, however well the story becomes you, I am afraid I may be thought to have chosen topics unbecoming to myself.

I will pass by those early days, and begin with his conduct of his own life; for indeed it has been no ordinary life, but such as is an abomination to a free people. Only recently— recently, do I say? Why it was only the day before yesterday when he became simultaneously an Athenian and an orator, and, by the addition of two syllables, transformed his father from Tromes to Atrometus, and bestowed upon his mother the high sounding name of Glaucothea, although she was universally known as the Banshee, a nickname she owed to the pleasing diversity of her acts and experiences—it can have no other origin.

Sections 131–135

You were raised from servitude to freedom, and from beggary to opulence, by the favor of your fellow-citizens, and yet you are so thankless and ill-conditioned that, instead of showing them your gratitude, you take the pay of their enemies and conduct political intrigues to their detriment. I will not deal with speeches which, on a disputable construction, may be called patriotic, but I will recall to memory acts by which he was proved beyond doubt to have served your enemies.

You all remember Antiphon, the man who was struck off the register, and came back to Athens after promising Philip that he would set fire to the dockyard. When I had caught him in hiding at Peiraeus, and brought him before the Assembly, this malignant fellow raised a huge outcry about my scandalous and undemocratic conduct in assaulting citizens in distress and breaking into houses without a warrant, and so procured his acquittal.

Had not the Council of the Areopagus, becoming aware of the facts, and seeing that you had made a most inopportune blunder, started further inquiries, arrested the man, and brought him into court a second time, the vile traitor would have slipped out of your hands and eluded justice, being smuggled out of the city by our bombastic phrase-monger. As it was, you put him on the rack and then executed him, and you ought to have done the same to Aeschines.

In fact, the Council of the Areopagus knew well that Aeschines had been to blame throughout this affair, and therefore when, after choosing him by vote to speak in support of your claims to the Temple at Delos, by a misapprehension such as has often been fatal to your public interests, you invited the cooperation of that Council and gave them full authority, they promptly rejected him as a traitor, and gave the brief to Hypereides. On this occasion the ballot was taken at the altar, and not a single vote was cast for this wretch.

To prove the truth of my statement, please call the witnesses.

(The Depositions are read)

We, Callias of Sunium, Zeno of Phlya, Cleon of Phalerum, Demonicus of Marathon, on behalf of all the councillors, bear witness for Demosthenes that, when the people elected Aeschines state-advocate before the Amphictyons in the matter of the temple at Delos, we in Council judged Hypereides more worthy to speak on behalf of the state, and Hypereides was accordingly commissioned.

Sections 136–140

Thus by rejecting this man from his spokesmanship, and giving the appointment to another, the Council branded him as a traitor and an enemy to the people.

So much for one of his spirited performances. Is it not just like the charges he brings against me? Now let me remind you of another. Philip had sent to us Pytho of Byzantium in company with an embassy representing all his allies, hoping to bring dishonor upon Athens and convict her of injustice. Pytho was mightily confident, denouncing you with a full spate of eloquence, but I did not shrink from the encounter. I stood up and contradicted him, refusing to surrender the just claims of the commonwealth, and proving that Philip was in the wrong so conclusively that his own allies rose and admitted I was right; but Aeschines took Philip’s side throughout, and bore witness, even false witness, against his own country.

Nor did that satisfy him. At a later date he was caught again in the company of the spy Anaxinus at the house of Thraso. Yet a man who secretly met and conversed with a spy sent by the enemy must have been himself a spy by disposition and an enemy of his country. To prove the truth of my statement, please call the witnesses.

(The Depositions are read)

Teledemus, son of Cleon, Hypereides, son of Callaeschrus, Nicomachus, son of Diophantus, bear witness for Demosthenes, and have taken oath before the Generals that to their knowledge Aeschines, son of Atrometus, of Cothocidae, comes by night to the house of Thraso and holds communication with Anaxinus, who has been proved to be a spy from Philip. These depositions were lodged with Nicias on the third day of Hecatombaeon.

I omit thousands of stories that I could tell you about him. The fact is, I could cite many clear instances of his conduct at that time, helping the enemy and maligning me; only it is not your way to score up such offences for accurate remembrance and due resentment. You have a vicious habit of allowing too much indulgence to anyone who chooses by spiteful calumnies to trip up the heels of a man who gives you good advice. You give away a sound policy in exchange for the entertainment you derive from invective; and so it is easier and safer for a public man to serve your enemies and pocket their pay than to choose and maintain a patriotic attitude.

Though it was a scandalous shame enough, God knows, openly to take Philip’s side against his own country even before the war, make him a present, if you choose, make him a present of that. But when our merchantmen had been openly plundered, when the Chersonese was being ravaged, when the man was advancing upon Attica, when there could no longer be any doubt about the position, but war had already begun—even after that this malignant mumbler of blank verse can point to no patriotic act. No profitable proposition, great or small, stands to the credit of Aeschines. If he claims any, let him cite it now, while my hour-glass runs. But there is none. Now one of two things: either he made no alternative proposal because he could find no fault with my policy, or he did not disclose his amendments because his object was the advantage of the enemy.

Did he then refrain from speech as well as from moving resolutions, when there was any mischief to be done? Why, no one else could get in a word! Apparently the city could stand, and he could do without detection, almost anything; but there was one performance of his that really gave the finishing touch to his earlier efforts. On that he has lavished all his wealth of words, citing in full the decrees against the Amphissians of Locri, in the hope of distorting the truth. But he can never disguise it. No, Aeschines, you will never wash out that stain; you cannot talk long enough for that!

Sections 141–145

In your presence, men of Athens, I now invoke all the gods and goddesses whose domain is the land of Attica. I invoke also Pythian Apollo, the ancestral divinity of this city, and I solemnly beseech them all that, if I shall speak the truth now, and if I spoke truth to my countrymen when first I saw this miscreant putting his hand to that transaction—for I knew it, I knew it instantly—they may grant to me prosperity and salvation. But if with malice or in the spirit of personal rivalry I lay against him any false charge, I pray that they may dispossess me of everything that is good.

This imprecation I address to Heaven, and this solemn averment I now make, because, though I have letters, deposited in the Record Office, enabling me to offer absolute proof, and though I am sure that you have not forgotten the transaction, I am afraid that his ability may be deemed inadequate for such enormous mischief. That mistake was made before, when by his false reports he contrived the destruction of the unhappy Phocians.

The war at Amphissa, that is, the war that brought Philip to Elatea, and caused the election, as general of the Amphictyons, of a man who turned all Greece upside down, was due to the machinations of this man. In his own single person he was the author of all our worst evils. I protested instantly; I raised my voice in Assembly; I cried aloud, You are bringing war into Attica, Aeschines, an Amphictyonic war; but a compact body of men, sitting there under his direction, would not let me speak, and the rest were merely astonished and imagined that I was laying an idle charge in private spite.

Men of Athens, you were not allowed to hear me then; but now you must and shall hear what was the real nature of that business, what was the purpose of the conspiracy, and how it was accomplished. You will see how skilfully it was contrived; you will get the benefit of new insight into your own politics and you will form an idea of the supreme craftiness of Philip.

For Philip there could be no end or quittance of hostilities with Athens unless he should make the Thebans and Thessalians her enemies. Now, aIthough your commanders were conducting the war against him without ability and without success, he was vastly distressed both by the campaign and by the privateers; for he could neither export the products of his own country, nor import what he needed for himself.

Sections 146–150

At that time he had no supremacy at sea, nor could he reach Attica by land unless the Thessalians followed his banner and the Thebans gave him free passage. In spite of his successes against the commanders you sent out, such as they were—I have nothing to say of their failure—he found himself in trouble by reason of conditions of locality and of the comparative resources of the two combatants.

Now, if he should invite the Thebans or the Thessalians to take up his private quarrel and march against you, he could expect no attention; but if he should espouse their joint grievances and be chosen as their leader, he might hope to succeed by a mixture of deception and persuasion. Very well; he sets to work—and observe how cleverly he managed it—to throw the Pylaean Congress into confusion and to implicate the Amphictyonic Council in warfare, feeling certain that they would immediately beg him to deal with the situation.

If, however, the question should be introduced by any of the commissioners of religion sent by him or by any allies of his, the Thebans and Thessalians, as he expected, would be suspicious and all on their guard; but, if the operator should be an Athenian, representing his opponents, he conceived that he would easily escape detection. And such was the actual result.

How did he manage it? By hiring Aeschines. Nobody, of course, had any inkling; nobody was watching— according to your usual custom! Aeschines was nominated for the deputation to Thermopylae; three or four hands were held up, and he was declared elected. He repaired to the Council, invested with all the prestige of Athens, and at once, putting aside and disregarding everything else, addressed himself to the business for which he had taken pay. He concocted a plausible speech about the legendary origin of the consecration of the Cirrhaean territory, and by this narration induced the commissioners, men unversed in oratory and unsuspicious of consequences,

to vote for a tour of survey of the land which the Amphissians said they were cultivating because it belonged to them, while Aeschines accused them of intruding on consecrated ground. It is not true that these Locrians w ere meditating any suit against Athens, or any other action such as he now falsely alleges in excuse. You will find a proof of his falsehood in this argument:—Of course it was not competent for the Locrians to take proceedings against Athens without serving a summons. Well, who served it? From what office was it issued? Name anyone who knows; point him out. You cannot; it was a false and idle pretext of yours.

Sections 151–155

With Aeschines as their trusty guide, the Amphictyons began their tour of the territory; but the Locrians fell upon them, were within an ace of spearing the whole crowd, and did actually seize and carry off the sacred persons of several commissioners. Complaints were promptly laid, and so war against the Amphissians was provoked. At the outset Cottyphus was commander of an army composed of Amphictyons; but some divisions never joined, and those who joined did nothing at all. The persons engaged in the plot, mostly scoundrels of old standing from Thessaly and other states, prepared to put the war into Philip’s hands at the next congress.

They found a plausible pretext: you must either, they said, pay contributions to a war-chest, maintain mercenary forces, and levy a fine on all recusants, or else elect Philip as commander-in-chief: and so, to cut a long story short, elected he was on this plea. He lost no time, collected his army, pretended to march to Cirrha, and then bade the Cirrhaeans and the Locrians alike good-bye and good luck, and seized Elatea.

When the Thebans saw the trick, they promptly changed their minds and joined our side; otherwise the whole business would have descended upon Athens like a torrent from the hills. In fact, the Thebans checked him for the moment; and for that relief, men of Athens, you have first and chiefly to thank the kindness of some friendly god, but in a secondary degree, and so far as one man could help, you have to thank me. Hand me those decrees, with the dates of the several transactions. They will show you what a mass of trouble this consummate villain provoked; and yet he was never punished.

Please read the decrees.

(Sundry Resolutions of the Amphictyons are read)

In the priesthood of Cleinagoras, at the spring session, it was resolved by the Wardens and the Assessors of the Amphictyons, and by the General Synod of the Amphictyons, that, whereas Amphissians are encroaching upon the sacred territory and are sowing and grazing the same, the Wardens and Assessors shall attend and mark out the boundaries with pillars, and shall forbid the Amphissians hereafter to encroach.

In the priesthood of Cleinagoras, at the spring session, it was resolved by the Wardens, Assessors, and General Synod that whereas the Amphissians who have occupied the sacred territory are tilling and grazing the same, and, when forbidden to do so, have appeared in arms and resisted the common assembly of the Greeks by force, and have actually wounded some of them, the general appointed by some of the Amphictyons, Cottyphus the Arcadian, shall go as an ambassador to Philip of Macedon and request him to come to the help of Apollo and the Amphictyons, that he may not suffer the god to be outraged by the impious Amphissians; he shall also announce that Philip is appointed General with full powers by the Greeks who are members of the Assembly of the Amphictyons.

Now read the dates of these transactions. They are all dates at which he was or spokesman at the Congress of Thermopylae.

(The Record of Dates is read)

Archonship of Mnesitheides, on the sixteenth of the month Anthesterion.

Sections 156–160

Now hand me the letter which Philip dispatched to his Peloponnesian allies, when the Thebans disobeyed him. Even that letter will give you a clear proof that he was concealing the true reasons of his enterprise, namely his designs against Greece, and especially against Thebes and Athens, and was only pretending zeal for the national interests as defined by the Amphictyonic Council. But the man who provided him with that basis of action and those pretexts was Aeschines. Read.

(Philip’s Letter is read)

Philip, king of Macedonia, to the public officers and councillors of the allied Peloponnesians and to all his other Allies, greeting. Since the Ozolian Locrians, settled at Amphissa, are outraging the temple of Apollo at Delphi and come in arms to plunder the sacred territory, I consent to join you in helping the god and in punishing those who transgress in any way the principles of religion. Therefore meet under arms at Phocis with forty days’ provisions in the next month, styled Lous by us, Boedromion by the Athenians, and Panemus by the Corinthians. Those who, being pledged to us, do not join us in full force, we shall treat as punishable. Farewell.

You see how he avoids personal excuses, and takes shelter in Amphictyonic reasons. Who gave him his equipment of deceit? Who supplied him with these pretexts ? Who above all others is to blame for all the ensuing mischief? Who but Aeschines? Then do not go about saying, men of Athens, that these disasters were brought upon Greece by Philip alone. I solemnly aver that it was not one man, but a gang of traitors in every state.

One of them was Aeschines; and, if I am to tell the whole truth without concealment, I will not flinch from declaring him the evil genius of all the men, all the districts, and all the cities that have perished. Let the man who sowed the seed bear the guilt of the harvest. I marvel that you did not avert your faces the moment you set eyes on him; only, as it seems, there is a cloud of darkness between you and the truth.

In dealing with his unpatriotic conduct I have approached the question of the very different policy pursued by myself. For many reasons you may fairly be asked to listen to my account of that policy, but chiefly because it would be discreditable, men of Athens, that you should be impatient of the mer e recital of those arduous labors on your behalf which I had patience to endure.

Sections 161–165

When I saw that the Thebans, and perhaps even the Athenians, under the influence of the adherents of Philip and the corrupt faction in the two states, were disregarding a real danger that called for earnest vigilance, the danger of permitting Philip’s aggrandizement, and were taking no single measure of precaution, but were ready to quarrel and attack each other, I persistently watched for opportunities of averting that danger, not merely because my own judgement warned me that such solicitude was necessary,

but because I knew that Aristophon, and after him Eubulus, had always wished to promote a good understanding between Athens and Thebes. In that regard they were always of one mind, despite their constant disagreement on other points of policy. While those statesmen were alive, Aeschines, you pestered them with your flattery, like the sly fox you are; now they are dead, you denounce them, unaware that, when you reproach me with a Theban policy, your censure does not affect me so much as the men who approved of a Theban alliance before I did. But that is a digression.

I say that, when Aeschines had provoked the war in Amphissa, and when his associates had helped him to aggravate our enmity towards Thebes, the result was that Philip marched against us, in pursuance of the purpose for which they had embroiled the states, and that, if we had not roused ourselves a little just in time, we could never have retrieved our position; so far had these men carried the quarrel. You will better understand the state of feeling between the two cities, when you have heard the decrees and the answers sent thereto. Please take and read these papers.

(The Decrees are read)

In the archonship of Heropythus, on the twenty-fifth day of the month Elaphebolion, the tribe Erechtheis then holding the presidency, on the advice of the Council and the Generals: whereas Philip has captured so me of the cities of our neighbors and is besieging others, and finally is preparing to advance against Attica, ignoring our agreement with him, and is meditating a breach of his oaths and of the peace, violating all mutual pledges, be it resolved by the Council and People to send ambassadors to confer with him and to summon him to preserve in particular his agreement and compact with us, and, failing that, to give the City time for decision and to conclude an armistice until the month of Thargelion. The following members of Council were chosen: Simus of Anagyrus, Euthydemos of Phylae, Bulagoras of Alopece.

In the archonship of Heropythus, on the thirtieth of the month Munychion, on the advice of the Commander-in-chief: whereas Philip aims at setting the Thebans at variance with us, and has prepared to march with all his forces to the parts nearest to Attica, violating his existing arrangements with us, be it resolved by the Council and People to send a herald and ambassadors to request and exhort him to conclude an armistice, in order that the People may decide according to circumstances; for even now the People have not decided to send a force if they can obtain reasonable terms. The following were chosen from the Council: Nearchus, son of Sosinomus, Polycrates, son of Epiphron; and as herald from the People, Eunomus of Anaphlystus.

Sections 166–170

Now read the replies.

(The Reply to the Athenians is read)

Philip, King of Macedonia, to the Council and People of Athens, greeting.—I am not ignorant of the policy which you have adopted towards us from the first, nor of your efforts to win over the Thessalians and Thebans, and the Boeotians as well. They, however, are wiser, and will not submit their policy to your dictation, but take their stand upon self-interest. And now you change your tactics, and send ambassadors with a herald to me, reminding me of our compact and asking for an armistice, though we have done you no wrong. However, after hearing your ambassadors, I accede to your request, and am ready to conclude an armistice, if you will dismiss your evil counsellors, and punish them with suitable degradation. Farewell.

(The Reply to the Thebans is read)

Philip, King of Macedonia, to the Council and People of Thebes, greeting.—I have received your letter, in which you renew goodwill and peace with me. I understand, however, that the Athenians are displaying the utmost eagerness in their desire to win your acceptance of their overtures. Now formerly I used to blame you for a tendency to put faith in their hopes and to adopt their policy; but now I am glad to learn that you have preferred to be at peace with me rather than to adopt the opinions of others. Especially do I commend you for forming a safer judgement on these matters and for retaining your goodwill toward us, which I expect will be of no small advantage to you, if you adhere to this purpose. Farewell.

Having, through the agency of these men, promoted such relations between the two cities, and being encouraged by these decrees and these replies, Philip came with his forces and occupied Elatea, imagining that, whatever might happen, you and the Thebans would never come to agreement. You all remember the commotion that ensued at Athens; nevertheless let me recount some small but essential details.

Evening had already fallen when a messenger arrived bringing to the presiding councillors the news that Elatea had been taken. They were sitting at supper, but they instantly rose from table, cleared the booths in the marketplace of their occupants, and unfolded the hurdles, while others summoned the commanders and ordered the attendance of the trumpeter. The commotion spread through the whole city. At daybreak on the morrow the presidents summoned the Council to the Council House, and the citizens flocked to the place of assembly. Before the Council could introduce the business and prepare the agenda, the whole body of citizens had taken their places on the hill.

The Council arrived, the presiding Councillors formally reported the intelligence they had received, and the courier was introduced. As soon as he had told his tale, the marshal put the question, Who wishes to speak? No one came forward. The marshal repeated his question again and again, but still no one rose to speak, although all the commanders were there, and all the orators, and although the country with her civic voice was calling for the man who should speak for her salvation; for we may justly regard the voice, which the crier raises as the laws direct, as the civic voice of our country.

Sections 171–175

Now had it been the duty of every man who desired the salvation of Athens to come forward, all of you, aye, every Athenian citizen, would have risen in your places and made your way to the tribune, for that salvation, I am well assured, was the desire of every heart. If that duty had fallen upon the wealthy, the Three Hundred would have risen; if upon those who were alike wealthy and patriotic, the men who thereafter gave those generous donations which signalized at once their wealth and their patriotism.

But, it seems, the call of the crisis on that momentous day was not only for the wealthy patriot but for the man who from first to last had closely watched the sequence of events, and had rightly fathomed the purposes and the desires of Philip; for anyone who had not grasped those purposes, or had not studied them long beforehand, however patriotic and however wealthy he might be, was not the man to appreciate the needs of the hour, or to find any counsel to offer to the people.

On that day, then, the call was manifestly for me. I came forward and addressed you; and I will now ask your careful attention to the speech I then made, for two reasons: first, that you may understand that I, alone among your orators and politicians, did not desert the post of patriotism in the hour of peril, but approved myself as one who in the midst of panic could, both in speech and in suggestion, do what duty bade on your behalf; and secondly, because at the cost of a few minutes of study you may gain experience which will stand you in good stead for your policy in times to come.

What I said was this. In my judgement the present position of affairs is misunderstood by those who are so much alarmed by the apprehension that all Thebes is at the disposal of Philip. If that were true, I am quite certain that we should have heard of him not at Elatea but on our own frontiers. But I know with certainty that he has come to complete his preparations at Thebes. Let me tell you how he is situated.

He has at his command all those Thebans whom he was able to win by fraud or corruption; but he cannot by any means prevail upon those who have resisted him from the first and who are still his opponents. His present object, and the purpose for which he has occupied Elatea, is that, by an exhibit ion of his power in the neighborhood of Thebes, and by bringing up armed forces, he may encourage and embolden his friends, and overawe his adversaries, hoping that the latter will yield to intimidation or to compulsion and will so concede what at present they refuse.

Sections 176–180

If, I added, at this crisis we are determined to remember all the provocative dealings of the Thebans with us in past time, and to distrust them still on the score of enmity, in the first place, we shall be acting exactly as Philip would beg us to act; and secondly, I am afraid that, if his present opponents give him a favorable reception, and unanimously become Philip’s men, both parties will join in an invasion of Attica. If, however, you will listen to my advice, and apply your minds to consideration, but not to captious criticism, of what I lay before you, I believe that you will find my proposals acceptable, and that I shall disperse the perils that overhang our city.

Let me then tell you what to do. In the first place, get rid of your present terror; or rather direct it elsewhere, and be as frightened as you will for the Thebans. They lie nearer to peril; the danger threatens them first. Next, let all men of military age, and all the cavalry, march out to Eleusis, and show the world that you are under arms. Then your partisans at Thebes will have equal freedom to speak their minds for righteousness’ sake, knowing that, just as the men who have sold their country to Philip are supported by a force at Elatea ready to come to their aid, so also you are in readiness to help men who are willing to fight for independence, and will come to their aid, if they are attacked.

In the next place, I would have you appoint ten ambassadors, and give them authority, in consultation with the military commanders, to determine the time of the march to Thebes and the conduct of the campaign. Now for my advice on the treatment of the difficulty after the arrival of the ambassadors at Thebes. I beg your careful attention to this. Do not ask any favor of the Thebans: for that the occasion is not creditable. Pledge yourselves to come to their aid at their call, on the ground that they are in extremities, and that we have a clearer foresight of the future than they. And so, if they accept our overtures and take our advice, we shall have accomplished our desires and have acted on a principle worthy of our traditions; while, if success does not fall to our lot, they will have themselves to blame for their immediate blunder, and we shall have done nothing mean or discreditable.

In those words, or to that effect, I spoke, and left the tribune. My speech was universally applauded, and there was no opposition. I did not speak without moving, nor move without serving as ambassador, nor serve without convincing the Thebans. I went through the whole business from beginning to end, devoting myself ungrudgingly to your service in face of the perils that encompassed our city. Please produce the decree made at that time.

What part do you wish me to assign to you, Aeschines, and what to myself, in the drama of that great day? Am I to be cast for the part of Battalus, as you dub me when you scold me so scornfully, and you for no vulgar role but to play some hero of legendary tragedy, Cresphontes, or Creon, or, shall we say, Oenomaus, whom you once murdered by your bad acting at Collytus? Anyhow, on that occasion Battalus of Paeania deserved better of his country than Oenomaus of Cothocidae. You were utterly useless; I did everything that became a good citizen. Please read the decree.

Sections 181–185

(The Decree of Demosthenes is read

In the archonship of Nausicles, the tribe Aeantis then holding the presidency, on the sixteenth day of Scirophorion, Demosthenes, son of Demosthenes, of Paeania, proposed that, whereas Philip of Macedon is proved in the past to have violated the terms of peace agreed to between him and the People of Athens, disregarding his oaths and the principles of equity as recognized among all the Greeks: and whereas he appropriates cities not belonging to him, and has captured in war some that actually belonged to the Athenians without provocation from the Athenian people, and is today making great advances in violence and cruelty,

for of some Greek cities he overthrows the constitution, putting a garrison in them, others he razes to the ground, selling the inhabitants into slavery, others he colonizes with barbarians instead of Greeks, handing over to them the temples and the sepulchres, acting as might be expected from his nationality and his character and making insolent use of his present fortune, forgetful of how he rose to greatness unexpectedly from a small and ordinary beginning;

and whereas, so long as the People of Athens saw him seizing barbarian states, belonging to themselves alone, they conceived that their own wrongs were of less account, but now, seeing Greek states outraged or wiped out, they consider it a scandal and unworthy of the reputation of their ancestors to suffer the Greeks to he enslaved;

therefore be it resolved by the Council and People of Athens, after offering prayers and sacrifices to the gods and heroes who guard the city and country of the Athenians, and after taking into consideration their ancestors’ merits, in that they ranked the preservation of the liberties of Greece above the claims of their own state, that two hundred ships be launched, and that the Admiral sail into the Straits of Thermopylae, and that the General and commander of the cavalry march out with the infantry and cavalry to Eleusis; also that ambassadors be sent to the other Greeks, but first of all to the Thebans, because Philip is nearest to their territory,

and exhort them not to be dismayed at Philip, but to hold fast to their own liberty and the liberty of the other Greeks, assuring them t hat the people of Athens, harboring no ill will for previous mutual differences between the states, will help them with troops, money, ammunition, and arms, knowing that, while it is an honor able ambition for Greeks to dispute with each other for the hegemony, yet to be ruled by a man of alien race and to be robbed by him of that hegemony is unworthy both of the reputation of the Greeks and of the merits of their ancestors.

Sections 186–190

Furthermore, the People of Athens regard the people of Thebes as in no way alien either in race or in nationality. They remember the services rendered by their own ancestors to the ancestors of the Thebans, for, when the sons of Heracles were dispossessed by the Peloponnesians of their paternal dominion, they restored them, overcoming in battle those who were trying to oppose the descendants of Heracles; and we harbored Oedipus and his family when they were banished; and many other notable acts of kindness have we done to the Thebans.

Therefore now also the people of Athens will not desert the cause of Thebes and the other Greeks. An alliance shall be arranged with them, and rights of intermarriage established, and oaths exchanged. —Ambassadors appointed: Demosthenes, son of Demosthenes, of Paeania, Hypereides, son of Cleander, of Sphettus, Mnesitheides, son of Antiphanes, of Phrearrii, Democrates, son of Sophilus, of Phlya, Callaeschrus, son of Diotimus, of Cothocidae.

Such was the first beginning and such the basis of our negotiations with Thebes; the first, I say, for hitherto the two cities had been dragged by these men into mutual enmity, hatred, and distrust. The decree was made, and the danger that environed the city passed away like a summer cloud. Then was the time therefore for an honest man to point, if he could, to a better way; now cavilling comes too late.

That is the salient difference between the statesman and the charlatan, who are indeed in all respects unlike one another. The statesman declares his judgement before the event, and accepts responsibility to his followers, to fortune, to the chances of the hour, to every critic of his policy. The charlatan holds his peace when he ought to speak, and then croaks over any untoward result.

That then, as I said, was the opportunity for any man who cared for Athens or for honest discussion. But I will make a large concession. If even now any man can point to a better way, nay, if any policy whatever, save mine, was even praticable, I plead guilty. If anyone has now discerned any course which might have been taken profitably then, I admit that I ought not to have missed it. But if there is none, if there never was any, if to this very day no one is able to name any, what was a statesman to do? Surely to choose the best policy among those that were visible and feasible.

Sections 191–195

That is what I did, Aeschines, when the marshal put the question, Who wishes to speak? He did not ask, Who wishes to rake up old grievances? or, Who wishes to be answerable for the future? In those days you sat speechless at every assembly; I came forward and spoke. You had nothing to say then; very well,—show us our duty now. Tell me what plan I ought to have discovered. Tell me what favorable opportunity was lost to the state by my default. Tell me of any alliance, or any negotiation, to which I ought by preference to have introduced the people.

Bygones are bygones, all the world over. No one proposes deliberation about the past; it is the present and the future that call the statesman to his post. And at that time, as we all thought, there were future perils and there were present perils. Look at the policy I chose in the light of those perils; do not carp at results. The issue depends on the will of a higher Power; the mind of the statesman is manifested in his policy.

You must not accuse me of crime, because Philip happened to win the battle; for the event was in God’s hands, not mine. Show me that I did not adopt, as far as human calculation could go, all the measures that were practicable, or that I did not carry them out with honesty and diligence, and with an industry that overtaxed my strength; or else show me that the enterprises I initiated were not honor able, worthy of Athens, and inevitable. Prove that, and then denounce me; but not till then.

If the hurricane that burst upon us has been too strong, not for us alone, but for every Hellenic state,—what then? As if a shipowner, who had done everything in his power for a prosperous voyage, who had equipped his craft with every appliance he could think of to ensure her safety, should encounter a great storm, and then, because his tackle was overstrained or even shattered, should be accused of the crime of shipwreck! But, he might say, I was not at the helm—nor was I in command of the army—and I could not control fortune, but fortune controls all.

Here is another point for your consideration. If we were destined to disaster when we fought with the Thebans at our side, what were we to expect if we had lacked even that alliance, and if they had joined Philip, a union for which he exerted all his powers of appeal? And if, after a battle fought three days’ march from the frontier, such danger and such alarm beset the city, what must we have expected after suffering the same defeat within our own borders? Do you not see that, as it was, one, or two, or three days gave the city time for resistance, concentration, recovery, for much that made for deliverance; as it might have been—but I will not mention an experience that we were spared by divine favor, and by the protection of that very alliance which you denounce.

Sections 196–200

Gentlemen of the jury, all this long story is intended for you, and for that circle of hearers outside the barrier. For this contemptible fellow, I have a short, plain, and sufficient answer. Aeschines, if the future was revealed to you and to nobody else, you should have given us the benefit of your predictions when we were deliberating; if you had no foreknowledge, you are open to the charge of ignorance just like the rest of us. Then what better right have you to denounce me than I to denounce you?

In respect of the business of which I am speaking— and at present I discuss nothing else—I am a better citizen than you, in so far as I devoted myself to a course of action that was unanimously approved, neither shirking nor even counting any personal danger. You made no more acceptable suggestion, otherwise mine would not have been adopted; and in carrying out mine you were not of the slightest use. You are proved after the event to have behaved throughout like a worthless and most unpatriotic citizen; and now, by a strange coincidence, those thorough-going enemies of Athens, Aristratus at Naxos and Aristolaus at Thasos, are bringing the friends of Athens to trial, while at Athens itself Aeschines is accusing Demosthenes.

And yet he who built his reputation on the accumulated misfortunes of Greece deserves rather to perish himself than to prosecute his neighbor; and the man who has found his profit in the same emergencies as his country’s foes can make no claim to patriotism. You stand revealed in your life and conduct, in your public performances and also in your public abstinences. A project approved by the people is going forward. Aeschines is speechless. A regrettable incident is reported. Aeschines is in evidence. He reminds one of an old sprain or fracture: the moment you are out of health it begins to be active.

As he lays so much stress on results, let me venture on a paradox. If it seems extravagant, I beg that you will not be surprised, but that you will still give friendly consideration to what I am saying. Suppose that the future had been revealed to all of us, that every one had known what would happen, and that you, Aeschines, had predicted and protested, and shouted and stormed—though in fact you never opened your mouth—even then the city could not have departed from that policy, if she had any regard for honor, or for our ancestors, or for the days that are to come.

All that can be said now is, that we have failed and that is the common lot of humanity, if God so wills. But then, if Athens, after claiming the primacy of the nations, had run away from her claims, she would have been held guilty of betraying Greece to Philip. If, without striking a blow, she had abandoned the cause for which our forefathers flinched from no peril, is there a man who would not have spat in your face? In your face, Aeschines: not at Athens, not at me!

Sections 201–205

How could we have returned the gaze of visitors to our city, if the result had been what it is—Philip the chosen lord paramount of all Greece—and if other nations had fought gallantly to avert that calamity without our aid, although never before in the whole course of history had our city preferred inglorious security to the perils of a noble cause?

There is no man living, whether Greek or barbarian, who does not know that the Thebans, or the Lacedaemonians, who held supremacy before them, or the king of Persia himself, would cheerfully and gratefully have given Athens liberty to keep what she had and to take what she chose, if only she would do their behest and surrender the primacy of Greece.

But to the Athenians of old, I suppose, such temporizing was forbidden by their heredity, by their pride, by their very nature. Since the world began, no man has ever prevailed upon Athens to attach herself in the security of servitude to the oppressors of mankind however formidable: in every generation she has striven without a pause in the perilous contention for primacy, and honor, and renown.

Such constancy you deem so exemplary, and so congenial to your character, that you still sing the praises of those of your forefathers by whom it was most signally displayed. And you are right. Who would not exult in the valor of those famous men who, rather than yield to a conqueror’s behests, left city and country and made the war-galleys their home; who chose Themistocles, the man who gave them that counsel, as their commander, and stoned Cyrsilus to death for advising obedient submission? Aye, and his wife also was stoned by your wives.

The Athenians of that day did not search for a statesman or a commander who should help them to a servile security: they did not ask to live, unless they could live as free men. Every man of them thought of himself as one born, not to his father and his mother alone, but to his country. What is the difference? The man who deems himself born only to his parents will wait for his natural and destined end; the son of his country is willing to die rather than see her enslaved, and will look upon those outrages and indignities, which a commonwealth in subjection is compelled to endure, as more dreadful than death itself.

Sections 206–210

If I had attempted to claim that you were first inspired with the spirit of your forefathers by me, every one would justly rebuke me. But I do not: I am asserting these principles as your principles; I am showing you that such was the pride of Athens long before my time,—though for myself I do claim some credit for the administration of particular measures.

Aeschines, on the other hand, arraigns the whole policy, stirs up your resentment against me as the author of your terrors and your dangers, and, in his eagerness to strip me of the distinction of a moment, would rob you of the enduring praises of posterity. For if you condemn Ctesiphon on the ground of my political delinquency, you yourselves will be adjudged as wrongdoers, not as men who owed the calamities they have suffered to the unkindness of fortune.

But no; you cannot, men of Athens, you cannot have done wrongly when you accepted the risks of war for the redemption and the liberties of mankind; I swear it by our forefathers who bore the brunt of warfare at Marathon, who stood in array of battle at Plataea, who fought in the sea-fights of Salamis and Artemisium, and by all the brave men who repose in our public sepulchres, buried there by a country that accounted them all to be alike worthy of the same honor —all, I say, Aeschines, not the successful and the victorious alone. So justice bids: for by all the duty of brave men was accomplished: their fortune was such as Heaven severally allotted to them.

And then a disreputable quill-driver like you, wanting to rob me of a distinction given me by the kindness of my fellow citizens, talked about victories and battles and ancient deeds of valor, all irrelevant to the present trial. But I, who came forward to advise my country how to retain her supremacy—tell me, you third-rate tragedian, in what spirit did it beseem me to ascend the tribune? As one who should give to the citizens counsel unworthy of their traditions?

I should have deserved death! Men of Athens, you jurymen are not to judge public and private causes in the same temper. You look at contracts of everyday business in the light of relevant statutes and facts, but at questions of public policy with due regard to the proud traditions of our forefathers. If you feel bound to act in the spirit of that dignity, whenever you come into court to give judgement on public causes, you must bethink yourselves that with his staff and his badge every one of you receives in trust the ancient pride of Athens.

Sections 211–215

However, in touching upon the achievements of our ancestors, I have passed by some of my decrees and other measures. I will now therefore return to the point at which I digressed.

When we reached Thebes we found ambassadors from Philip and from the Thebans and others of his allies already there, our friends panic-stricken, and his friends full of confidence. To prove that this is not a statement made today to serve my own turn, please read the dispatch which the ambassadors sent at the time.

The prosecutor is so extraordinarily malicious that he gives the credit of any duty successfully performed not to me but to opportunity, but holds me and my bad luck responsible for everything that miscarried. I am a speaker and a statesman, yet it would seem that, in his view, I am to have no credit for the results of the discussion and deliberation, but am solely responsible for all the misadventures of our arms and of our generalship. Can you imagine a cruder or more abominable calumny? Read the dispatch.

(The Ambassadors’ Dispatch is read)

When the Thebans held their assembly, they introduced Philip’s ambassadors first, on the ground that they were in the position of allies. They came forward and made their speech, full of eulogy of Philip, and of incrimination of Athens, and recalled everything you had ever done in antagonism to Thebes. The gist of the speech was that they were to show gratitude to Philip for every good turn he had done to them, and to punish you for the injuries they had suffered, in whichever of two ways they chose— either by giving him a free passage, or by joining in the invasion of Attica. They proved, as they thought, that, if their advice were taken, cattle, slaves, and other loot from Attica would come into Boeotia, whereas the result of the proposals they expected from us would be that Boeotia would be ravaged by the war. They added many other arguments, all tending to the same conclusion.

I would give my life to recapitulate the reply that we made: but I am afraid that, as that crisis is long past, and as you may think that all those transactions are now obliterated as by a flood, you would regard any discussion of them as useless and vexatious. I will only ask you to hear how far we prevailed upon them, and what answer they returned. Take and read this document.

(The Reply of the Thebans is read)

After that, the Thebans invited you to join them. You marched out: you reinforced them. I pass over the incidents of the march: but their reception of you was so friendly that, while their own infantry and cavalry lay outside the walls, they gave you access to their homes, to their citadel, to their wives and children and most precious possessions. On that day the Thebans publicly paid three fine compliments—to your valor, to your righteousness, and to your sobriety. When they decided to fight on your side rather than against you, they adjudged you to be braver men than Philip, and your claim to be more righteous than his; and when they put into your power what they, like all other men, were most anxious to safeguard, namely their wives and their children, they exhibited their confidence in your sobriety.

Sections 216–220

And thereby, men of Athens, they showed a just appreciation of your character. After the entry of your soldiers no man ever laid even a groundless complaint against them, so soberly did you conduct yourselves. Fighting shoulder to shoulder with them in the two earliest engagements,—the battle by the river, and the winter battle,—you approved yourselves irreproachable fighters, admirable alike in discipline, in equipment, and in determination. Your conduct elicited the praises of other nations, and was acknowledged by yourselves in services of thanksgiving to the gods.

I should like to ask Aeschines a question: when all that was going on, when the whole city was a scene of enthusiasm and rejoicing and thanksgiving, did he take part in the worship and festivity of the populace, or did he sit still at home, grieving and groaning and sulking over public successes? If he was present as one of the throng, surely his behavior is scandalous and even sacrilegious, for after calling the gods to witness that certain measures were very good, he now asks a jury to vote that they were very bad—a jury that has sworn by the gods! If he was not present, he deserves many deaths for shrinking from a sight in which every one else rejoiced. Please read these decrees.

(The Decrees appointing a Public Thanksgivingare read)

So we were engaged in thanksgiving, and the Thebans in the deliverance that they owed to us. The situation was reversed, and a nation that, thanks to the intrigues of Aeschines and his party, seemed on the verge of suing for aid, was now giving aid in pursuance of the advice which you accepted from me. But indeed, what sort of language Philip gave vent to at that time, and how seriously he was discomposed, you shall learn from letters sent by him to Peloponnesus. Please take and read them, that the jury may learn the real effect of my perseverance, of my journeys and hardships, and of that profusion of decrees at which Aeschines was just now scoffing.

Men of Athens, there have been many great and distinguished orators in your city before my time,—the famous Callistratus, Aristophon, Cephalus, Thrasybulus, and thousands more; but no one of them ever devoted himself to any public business without intermission; the man who moved a resolution would not go on embassy, and the man who went on embassy would not move a resolution. Each of them used to leave himself some leisure, and at the same time some loop-hole, in case anything happened.

What! some one may say, were you so much stronger and bolder than others that you could do everything by yourself? That is not what I mean: but I was so firmly persuaded that the danger which overhung the city was very serious, that it did not seem to me to leave me any room for taking my personal safety into account; but a man, I thought, must be content, without neglecting anything, to do his duty.

Sections 221–225

As for myself, I was convinced, presumptuously, perhaps, but convinced I was, that there was no one more competent either to make sound proposals, or to carry them into effect, or to conduct an embassy diligently and honestly: and therefore I took my place in every field of action. Read Philip’s letters.

(Philip’s Letters are read)

To these straits had my policy, Aeschines, reduced Philip: and such was then the language uttered by a man who had hitherto lifted his voice vauntingly against Athens. And for that reason I was deservedly decorated by the citizens. You were present, but said nothing in opposition; and Diondas, who arraigned the grant, did not get the fifth part of the votes. Please read the decrees which were then by that acquittal validated, and which Aeschines never even arraigned.

(The Decrees are read)

These decrees, men of Athens, exhibit the same wording and phrasing as those proposed formerly by Aristonicus, and now by Ctesiphon. Aeschines did not prosecute them himself, nor did he support the accusation of the man who did arraign them. And yet if there is any truth in his present denunciation, he might then have prosecuted Demomeles, the proposer, and Hypereides, with more reason than Ctesiphon,

who can refer to these precedents, to the decision of the courts, to the observation that Aeschines himself did not prosecute persons who made the same proposals, to the statutory prohibition of repeated prosecution in such cases, and so forth; whereas at that time the issue would have been tried on its merits without such presumptions.

On the other hand, at that time, I imagine, there was no chance of doing what he does now, when out of a lot of old dates and decrees he selects for slanderous purposes any that nobody knew beforehand or would expect to hear cited today, transposes dates, substitutes fictitious reasons for the true reasons of transactions, and so makes a show of speaking to the point.

Sections 226–230

That trick was not possible then. All speeches must have been made on a basis of truth, within a short time of the facts, when the jury still remembered details and almost knew them by heart. That is why, after shirking inquiry at the time when the events were recent, he has returned to the issue today, expecting, I suppose, that you will conduct a forensic competition rather than an inquiry into political conduct, and that the decision will turn upon diction rather than sound policy.

Then he resorts to sophistry, and tells you that you must ignore any opinion of himself and me which you brought with you from home; and that, as, when you cast up a man’s accounts, though you anticipate a surplus, you acquiesce in the result if the totals balance, so you must now accept the result of the calculation. Every dishonest contrivance, you will observe, is rotten to the core.

By his ingenious apologue he has admitted that we are both here as acknowledged advocates—I of our country, he of Philip; for if such had not been the view you take of us, he would not have been at pains to convert you.

I shall prove without difficulty that he has no right to ask you to reverse that opinion—not by using counters, for political measures are not to be added up in that fashion, but by reminding you briefly of the several transactions, and appealing to you who hear me as both the witnesses and the auditors of my account. We owe it to that policy of mine which he denounces that, instead of the Thebans joining Philip in an invasion of our country, as everyone expected, they fought by our side and stopped him;

that, instead of the seat of war being in Attica, it was seven hundred furlongs away on the far side of Boeotia; that, instead of privateers from Euboea harrying us, Attica was at peace on the sea-frontier throughout the war; and that, instead of Philip taking Byzantium and holding the Hellespont, the Byzantines fought on our side against him.

Sections 231–235

Do you see any resemblance between this computation of results and your casting up of counters? Are we to cancel the gains to balance the losses, instead of providing that they shall never be forgotten? I need not add that other nations have had experience of that cruelty which is always observable whenever Philip has got people under his heel, whereas you have been lucky enough to enjoy the fruits of that factitious humanity in which he clothed himself with an eye to the future. But I pass that by.

I will not shrink from observing that any man who wished to bring an orator to the proof honestly, and not merely to slander him, would never have laid such charges as you have alleged, inventing analogies, and mimicking my diction and gestures. The fate of Greece, forsooth, depended on whether I used this word or that, or moved my hand this way or that way!

No; he would have considered, in the light of actual facts, the means and resources possessed by the city when I entered on administration, and those accumulated by me when at the head of affairs; and also the condition of our adversaries. If I had impaired our resources, he would have proved that the fault lay at my door: if I had greatly increased them, he would have spared his slanders. As you avoided this test, I will apply it; and the jury will see whether I state the case fairly.

For resources, the city possessed the islanders—but not all, only the weakest, for neither Chios, nor Rhodes, nor Corcyra was on our side; a subsidy of forty-five talents, all collected in advance; and not a single private or trooper apart from our own army. But what was most alarming to us, and advantageous to the enemy, Aeschines and his party had made all our neighbors, Megarians, Thebans, and Euboeans, more disposed to enmity than to friendship.

Such were the means of the city: and I defy anyone to name anything else. Now consider those of our antagonist Philip. In the first place, he was the despotic commander of his adherents: and in war that is the most important of all advantages. Secondly, they had their weapons constantly in their hands. Then he was well provided with money: he did whatever he chose, without giving notice by publishing decrees, or deliberating in public, without fear of prosecution by informers or indictment for illegal measures. He was responsible to nobody: he was the absolute autocrat, commander, and master of everybody and everything.

Sections 236–240

And I, his chosen adversary—it is a fair inquiry—of what was I master? Of nothing at all! Public speaking was my only privilege: and that you permitted to Philip’s hired servants on the same terms as to me. Whenever they had the advantage of me—and for one reason or another that often happened—you laid your plans for the enemy’s benefit, and went your ways.

In spite of all these drawbacks, I made alliance for you with Euboeans, Achaeans, Corinthians, Thebans, Megarians, Leucadians, and Corcyraeans: and from those states there was assembled a foreign division of fifteen thousand infantry and two thousand cavalry, not counting their citizen-soldiery. I also obtained from them in money the largest subsidy I could.

When you talk about fair terms with the Thebans, Aeschines, or with the Byzantines and the Euboeans, and raise at this time of day the question of equal contributions, in the first place, you must be unaware that of that famous fleet of three hundred galleys that fought for Greece in former days, our city supplied two hundred; and that she did not show any sign of complaining that she was unfairly treated, or impeaching the statesmen whose advice she took, or airing her dissatisfaction. That would have been discreditable indeed! No, she gave thanks to the gods that, when all the Greeks alike were encompassed by a great peril, she had contributed twice as much as all the rest to the common deliverance.

Secondly, when you grumble at me, you are doing an ill turn to your fellow-citizens. Why do you tell them today what they ought to have done then? You were in Athens and at the Assembly: why did you not offer your suggestions at the time—if indeed they could possibly be offered during an imminent crisis, when we had to accept, not all that we wanted, but all that the conditions allowed? There was a man lying in wait who was bidding against us, and was ready to welcome any allies we drove away, and pay them into the bargain.

If I am accused today for what was actually done, suppose that, while I was haggling over nice calculations, these cities had marched off and joined Philip—suppose he had become suzerain o f Euboea, Thebes, and Byzantium— what do you think these unprincipled men would have done or said then?

Sections 241–245

Would they not have told you that we had made Philip a present of our allies? That they had been driven away when they wanted to join us? That through the Byzantines he had gained the mastery of the Hellespont, and control of the corn-supply of all Greece? That by means of the Thebans Attica had become the scene of a distressing war with her own neighbors? That the sea had become useless for ships because of privateers with Euboea for their base? Would they not have made all those complaints, and plenty more?

Oh, men of Athens, what a vile monster is the calumniator, gathering malice from everywhere, always backbiting! But this fellow is by very nature a spiteful animal, absolutely incapable of honesty or generosity; this monkey of melodrama, this bumpkin tragedy-king, this pinchbeck orator! What use has all your cleverness ever been to your country?

What! talk about bygones today? It is as though a physician visiting his patients should never open his mouth, or tell them how to get rid of their complaint, so long as they are ill; but, as soon as one of them dies, and the obsequies are celebrated, should follow the corpse to the grave, and deliver his prescription at last from the tombstone: If our departed friend had done this or that, he would never have died! You lunatic! what is the use of talking now?

You will find that even our defeat, if this reprobate must needs exult over what he ought to have deplored, did not fall upon the city through any fault of mine. Make your reckoning in this way: wherever I was sent as your representative, I came away undefeated by Philip’s ambassador—from Thessaly, from Ambracia, from the Illyrians, from the kings of Thrace, from Byzantium, from every other place, and finally from Thebes; but wherever Philip was beaten in diplomacy, he attacked the place with an army and conquered it.

And for those defeats, Aeschines, you call me to account! Are you not ashamed to jeer at a man for cowardice, and then to require that same man to overcome the whole power of Philip single-handed, and to do it by mere words? For what else had I at my disposal? Certainly not the personal courage of each man, not the good fortune of the troops engaged, not that generalship for which you are unreasonable enough to hold me responsible. Make as strict an inquiry as you will into everything for which an orator is responsible; I ask no indulgence.

Sections 246–250

But for what is he responsible? For discerning the trend of events at the outset, for forecasting results, for warning others. That I have always done. Further, he ought to reduce to a minimum those delays and hesitations, those fits of ignorance and quarrelsomeness, which are the natural and inevitable failings of all free states, and on the other hand to promote unanimity and friendliness, and whatever impels a man to do his duty. All that also I have made my business: and herein no man can find any delinquency on my part.

Let any man you like be asked by what means Philip achieved most of his successes: the universal reply will be, by his army and by bribing and corrupting politicians. Well, I had no control or authority over your forces, and therefore no question of their performances can touch me. Moreover, in the matter of corruption or purity I have beaten Philip. In bribery, just as the purchaser has vanquished the seller, whenever the bargain is struck, so the man who refuses the price and remains incorruptible has vanquished the purchaser. Therefore, in my person, Athens is undefeated.

These, and such as these, with many others are the grounds furnished by my conduct to justify the proposal of the defendant. I will now mention grounds furnished by all of you. Immediately after the battle, in the very midst of danger and alarm, at a time when it would not have been surprising if most of you had treated me unkindly, the people, with a full knowledge of all my doings, in the first place, adopted by vote my proposals for the safety of the city. All those measures of defence—the disposition of outposts, the entrenchments, the expenditure on the fortifications—were taken on resolutions moved by me. In the second place, they appointed me Food Controller, selecting me from the whole body of citizens.

Then the men who made it their business to injure me formed a cabal, and set in motion all the machinery of indictments, audits, impeachments, and the like—not at first by their own agency, but employing persons by whom they imagined they would be screened. You will remember how, during that early period, I was put on my trial every day; and how the recklessness of Sosicles, and the spite of Philocrates, and the frenzy of Diondas and Melantus, and everything else, were turned to account by them for my detriment. Nevertheless, by the favor, first of the gods, and secondly of you and the rest of the Athenians, I came through unscathed. And so I deserved. Yes; that is true, and to the credit of juries that had taken the oath and gave judgement according to their oath.

When, on my impeachment, you acquitted me, and did not give the prosecutors the fifth part of your votes, your verdict implied approval of my policy. When I was indicted, I satisfied you that my proposals and my speeches had been constitutional. When you put the seal on my accounts, you further admitted that I had done my business honestly and without corruption. That being so, what description could Ctesiphon properly and honestly have applied to my conduct, other than that which he had seen applied by the whole nation and by sworn juries, and confirmed by the truth in the eyes of all men?

Sections 251–255

Ah, says he, but look at that glorious boast of Cephalus—never once indicted! Yes, glorious, and also lucky. But why should a man who has been often indicted but never convicted be the more justly open to reproach? However, men of Athens, so far as Aeschines is concerned, I can repeat that glorious boast: for he never indicted me or prosecuted me on indictment; and so, by his own admission, I am no worse a citizen than Cephalus.

At every point his morose and spiteful temper is conspicuous, and especially in what he said about fortune. As a general remark, I must say that it is a stupid thing for any human being to reproach his brother man on the score of fortune. Seeing that a man who thinks he is doing very well and regards himself as highly fortunate, is never certain that his good fortune will last till the evening, how can it be right to boast about it, or use it to insult other people? But, since Aeschines has treated this topic, like many others, so vaingloriously, I beg you to observe, men of Athens, that my discourse on fortune will be more veracious, and more suitable to a mere man, than his.

I attribute good fortune to our city, and so, I observe, does the oracle of Zeus at Dodona; but the present fortune of all mankind I account grievous and distressing. Is there a man living, Greek or barbarian, who has not in these days undergone many evils?

I reckon it as part of the good fortune of Athens that she has chosen the noblest policy, and that she is better off than the Greeks who expected prosperity from their betrayal of us. If she has been unsuccessful, if everything has not fallen out as we desired, I regard that as our appointed share in the general ill-fortune of mankind.

My personal fortune, or that of any man among you, must, I imagine, be estimated in the light of his private circumstances. That is my view of fortune: a just and correct view, as it seems to me, and, I think, also to you. But he declares that a poor, insignificant thing like my individual fortune has been more powerful than the great and good fortune of Athens. Now how is that possible?

Sections 256–260

If, Aeschines, you are determined at all costs to investigate my fortune, compare it with your own; and, should you find mine to be better than yours, stop your vilification. Begin your inquiry then at the beginning. And I beg earnestly that no one will blame me for want of generosity. No sensible man, in my judgement, ever turns poverty into a reproach, or prides himself on having been nurtured in affluence. But I am compelled by this troublesome man’s scurrility and backbiting to deal with these topics; and I will treat them with as much modesty as the state of the case permits.

In my boyhood, Aeschines, I had the advantage of attending respectable schools: and my means were sufficient for one who was not to be driven by poverty into disreputable occupations. When I had come of age, my circumstances were in accordance with my upbringing. I was in a position to provide a chorus, to pay for a war-galley, and to be assessed to property-tax. I renounced no honor able ambition either in public or in private life: and rendered good service both to the commonwealth and to my own friends. When I decided to take part in public affairs, the political services I chose were such that I was repeatedly decorated both by my own country and by many other Grecian cities and even my enemies, such as you, never ventured to say that my choice was other than honor able.

Such has been my fortune throughout my career. I could tell you more, but I forbear, fearing to weary you with details in which I take some pride.

But do you—you who are so proud and so contemptuous of others— compare your fortune with mine. In your childhood you were reared in abject poverty. You helped your father in the drudgery of a grammar-school, grinding the ink, sponging the benches, and sweeping the school-room, holding the position of a menial, not of a free-born boy.

On arriving at manhood you assisted your mother in her initiations, reading the service-book while she performed the ritual, and helping generally with the paraphernalia. At night it was your duty to mix the libations, to clothe the catechumens in fawn-skins, to wash their bodies, to scour them with the loam and the bran, and, when their lustration was duly performed, to set them on their legs, and give out the hymn: Here I leave my sins behind, Here the better way I find; and it was your pride that no one ever emitted that holy ululation so powerfully as yourself. I can well believe it! When you hear the stentorian tones of the orator, can you doubt that the ejaculations of the acolyte were simply magnificent?

In day-time you marshalled your gallant throng of bacchanals through the public streets, their heads garlanded with fennel and white poplar; and, as you went, you squeezed the fat-cheeked snakes, or brandished them above your head, now shouting your Euoi Saboi! now footing it to the measure of Hyes Attes! Attes Hyes!—saluted by all the old women with such proud titles as Master of the Ceremonies, Fugleman, Ivy-bearer, Fan-carrier; and at last receiving your recompense of tipsy-cakes, and cracknels, and currant-buns. With such rewards who would not rejoice greatly, and account himself the favorite of fortune?

Sections 261–265

After getting yourself enrolled on the register of your parish—no one knows how you managed it; but let that pass—anyhow, when you were enrolled, you promptly chose a most gentlemanly occupation, that of clerk and errand-boy to minor officials. After committing all the offences with which you now reproach other people, you were relieved of that employment; and I must say that your subsequent conduct did no discredit to your earlier career.

You entered the service of those famous players Simylus and Socrates, better known as the Growlers. You played small parts to their lead, picking up figs and grapes and olives, like an orchard-robbing costermonger, and making a better living out of those missiles than by all the battles that you fought for dear life. For there was no truce or armistice in the warfare between you and your audiences, and your casualties were so heavy, that no wonder you taunt with cowardice those of us who have no experience of such engagements.

However, passing by things for which your poverty may be blamed, I will address myself to actual charges against your way of living. When in course of time it occurred to you to enter public life, you chose such a line of political action that, so long as the city prospered, you lived the life of a hare, in fear and trembling and constant expectation of a sound thrashing for the crimes that burdened your conscience: although, when every one else is in distress, your confidence is manifest to all men.

What treatment does a man, who recovered his high spirits on the death of a thousand of his fellow-citizens, deserve at the hands of the survivors? I shall omit a great many other facts that I might relate; for I do not think that I ought to recount glibly all his discreditable and infamous qualities, but only such as I may mention without discredit to myself.

And now, Aeschines, I beg you to examine in contrast, quietly and without acrimony, the incidents of our respective careers: and then ask the jury, man by man, whether they would choose for themselves your fortune or mine. You were an usher, I a pupil; you were an acolyte, I a candidate; you were clerk-at-the-table, I addressed the House; you were a player, I a spectator; you were cat-called, I hissed; you have ever served our enemies, I have served my country.

Sections 266–270

Much I pass by; but on this very day, I am on proof for the honor of a crown, and acknowledged to be guiltless; you have already the reputation of an informer, and the question at hazard for you is, whether you are still to continue in that trade, or be stopped for ever by getting less than your quota of votes. And that is the good fortune enjoyed by you, who denounce the shabbiness of mine!

Let me now read to you the testimony of the public services I have rendered, and you shall read for comparison some of the blank-verse you used to make such a hash of: From gates of gloom and dwellings of the dead, or, Tidings of woe with heavy heart I bear, or, Oh cruel, cruel fate! Such a fate may the gods first, and the jury afterwards, allot to you—for your citizenship is as worthless as your mummery. Read the depositions.

(The Depositions are read)

Such has been my character in public life. In private life, if any of you are not aware that I have been generous and courteous, and helpful to the distressed, I do not mention it. I will never say a word, or tender any evidence about such matters as the captives I have ransomed, or the dowries I have helped to provide, or any such acts of charity.

It is a matter of principle with me. My view is that the recipient of a benefit ought to remember it all his life, but that the benefactor ought to put it out of his mind at once, if the one is to behave decently, and the other with magnanimity. To remind a man of the good turns you have done to him is very much like a reproach. Nothing shall induce me to do anything of the sort; but whatever be my reputation in that respect, I am content.

I have finished with private matters, but I have still some trifling remarks to offer on public affairs. If you, Aeschines, can name any human being, Greek or barbarian, on whom yonder sun shines, who has escaped all injury from the domination, first of Philip, and today of Alexander, so be it: I grant you that my fortune— or my misfortune, if you prefer the word—has been the cause of the whole trouble.

Sections 271–275

But if many people, who have never set eyes on me or heard the sound of my voice, have been grievously afflicted—I do not mean as individuals, but whole cities and nations—I say it is vastly more honest and candid to attribute these calamities to the common fortune of mankind, or to some distressing and untoward current of events.

Yet you dismiss those causes, and put the blame upon me, who only took part in politics by the side of my fellow-citizens here, although you must be conscious that a part, if not the whole, of your invective is addressed to all of them, and particularly to yourself. If I had held sole and despotic authority when I offered my counsels, it would have been open to you other orators to incriminate me:

but inasmuch as you were present at every assembly, as the state proposed a discussion of policy in which every one might join, and as my measures were approved at the time by every one, and especially by you,—for it was in no friendly spirit that you allowed me to enjoy all the hopes and enthusiasm and credit that were attached to my policy, but obviously because truth was too strong for you, and because you had nothing better to suggest—it is most iniquitous and outrageous to stigmatize today measures which at the time you were unable to amend.

Among other people I find this sort of distinction universally observed.—A man has sinned willfully: he is visited with resentment and punishment. He has erred unintentionally: pardon takes the place of punishment. Suppose that he has committed no sin or error at all, but, having devoted himself to a project approved by all, has, in common with all, failed of success. In that case he does not deserve reproach or obloquy, but condolence.

This distinction will be found not only embodied in our statutes, but laid down by nature herself in her unwritten laws and in the moral sense of the human race. Now Aeschines so far surpasses all mankind in savagery and malignity that he turns even misadventures, which he has himself cited as such, into crimes for which I am to be denounced.

Sections 276–280

To crown all—as though all his own speeches had been made in a disinterested and patriotic spirit—he bids you be on your guard against me, for fear I should mislead and deceive you, calling me an artful speaker, a mountebank, an impostor, and so forth. He seems to think that if a man can only get in the first blow with epithets that are really applicable to himself, they must be true, and the audience will make no reflections on the character of the speaker.

But I am sure you all know him well, and will regard those epithets as more appropriate to him than to me. I am also sure that my artfulness—well, be it so; although I notice that in general an audience controls the ability of a speaker, and that his reputation for wisdom depends upon your acceptance and your discriminating favor. Be that as it may, if I do possess any skill in speaking, you will all find that that skill has always been exercised on public concerns and for your advantage, never on private occasions and to your detriment. On the other hand the ability of Aeschines is applied not only to speaking on behalf of your enemies, but to the detriment of anyone who has annoyed or quarrelled with him. He never uses it honestly or in the interests of the commonweal.

No upright and honor able citizen must ever expect a jury impanelled in the public service to bolster up his own resentment or enmity or other passions, nor will he go to law to gratify them. If possible he will exclude them from his heart: if he cannot escape them, he will at least cherish them calmly and soberly. In what circumstances, then, ought a politician or an orator to be vehement? When all our national interests are imperilled; when the issue lies between the people and their adversaries. Then such is the part of a chivalrous and patriotic citizen.

But for a man who never once sought to bring me to justice for any public, nor, I will add, for any private offence, whether for the city’s sake or for his own, to come into court armed with a denunciation of a crown and of a vote of thanks, and to lavish such a wealth of eloquence on that plea, is a symptom of a peevish, jealous, small-minded, good-for-nothing disposition. And the exhibition of his turpitude is complete when he relinquishes his controversy with me, and directs the whole of his attack upon the defendant.

It really makes me think, Aeschines, that you deliberately went to law, not to get satisfaction for any transgression, but to make a display of your oratory and your vocal powers. But it is not the diction of an orator, Aeschines, or the vigor of his voice that has any value: it is supporting the policy of the people, and having the same friends and the same enemies as your country.

Sections 281–285

With such a disposition, a man’s speeches will always be patriotic: but the man who pays court to those from whom the state apprehends danger to herself, is not riding at the same anchor as the people, and therefore does not look to the same quarter for his security. I do; mark that! My purposes are my countrymen’s purposes; I have no peculiar or personal end to serve.

Can you say the same? No, indeed! Why, immediately after the battle you went on embassy to visit Philip, the author of all the recent calamities of your country, although hitherto you had notoriously declined that employment. And who is the deceiver of his country? Surely the man who does not say what he thinks. For whom does the marshal read the commination? For him. What graver crime can be charged to an orator than that his thoughts and his words do not tally? In that crime you were detected;

and yet you still raise your voice, and dare to look your fellow citizens in the face! Do you imagine that they do not know who you are? that they are sunk in such slumber and oblivion that they do not remember the harangues you made while the war was still going on, when you protested with oaths and curses that you had no dealings with Philip— that I had laid that charge against you out of private malice, and that it was not true?

But no sooner had the news of the battle reached us than you ignored all your protests, and confessed, or rather claimed, that you were Philip’s friend and Philip’s guest—a euphemism for Philip’s hired servant; for with what show of equality or honesty could Philip possibly be the host or the friend or even the acquaintance of Aeschines, son of Glaucothea the tambourinist ? I cannot see: but the truth is, you took his pay to injure the interests of your countrymen. And yet you, a traitor publicly convicted on information laid by yourself after the fact, vilify and reproach me for misfortunes for which you will find I am less responsible than any other man.

Our city owes to me, Aeschines, both the inception and the success of many great and noble enterprises; nor was she unmindful. It is a proof of her gratitude that, when the people wanted one who should speak over the bodies of the slain, shortly after the battle, you were nominated but they did not appoint you, in spite of your beautiful voice, nor Demades, although he had recently arranged the peace, nor Hegemon, nor any of your party: they appointed me. Then you came forward, and Pythocles with you—and, gracious Heavens! how coarsely and impudently you spoke!—making the very same charges that you have repeated today; but, for all your scurrility, they appointed me nevertheless.

Sections 286–290

You know very well why; but you shall hear the reason again from me. They were conscious both of the patriotism and energy with which I had conducted their business, and also of the dishonesty of you and your friends; for, when the city had made a false step, you had acknowledged relations which you had strenuously denied on oath in the days of prosperity. They conceived that men who found impunity for their ambitions in our national calamities had long been their secret, and were now their declared, enemies.

They thought it becoming that the orator who should speak over the bodies of the slain, and magnify their prowess, should not be one who had visited the homes and shared the loving cup of their adversaries; that the man who in Macedonia had taken part with their murderers in revels and songs of exultation over the calamities of Greece, should not be chosen for high distinction at Athens; and that the chosen speaker should not lament their fate with the feigning voice of an actor, but express the mourning of his very soul. Such sympathy they discerned in themselves, and in me; but not in your party; and that is why they appointed me, and did not appoint you.

The sentiments of the people were shared by those fathers and brothers of the dead who were chosen by the people to conduct the obsequies. In obedience to the custom that requires the funeral feast to be held in the home of the nearest relative of the dead, they ordered it to be held at my house; and with good reason. Each hero had some kinsman who by the ties of blood stood nearer to himself, but to the whole company of the fallen no man was nearer of kin than I. When they had met with their untimely fate, he who was most deeply concerned in their safety and their success, claimed the chief share in mourning for them all.

Read for his benefit the epitaph, which the state resolved by public vote to inscribe upon their monument. Even from these verses, Aeschines, you may learn something of your own callousness, and malignity, and brutality. Read. Epitaph Here lie the brave, who for their country’s right Drew sword, and put th’ insulting foe to flight. Their lives they spared not, bidding Death decide Who flinched and lived, and who with courage died. They fought and fell that Greece might still be free, Nor crouch beneath the yoke of slavery. Zeus spoke the word of doom; and now they rest Forspent with toil upon their country’s breast. God errs not, fails not; God alone is great; But man lies helpless in the hands of fate.

Do you hear this admonition, that it is the gods alone who err not and fail not? It attributes the power of giving success in battle not to the statesman, but to the gods. Accursed slanderer! why do you revile me for their death? Why do you utter words which I pray the gods to divert to the undoing of your children and yourself?

Sections 291–295

Among all the slanders and lies which he launched against me, men of Athens, what amazed me most was that, when he recounted the disasters that befell our city at that time, his comments were never such as would have been made by an honest and loyal citizen. He shed no tears; he had no emotion of regret in his heart; he vociferated, he exulted, he strained his throat. He evidently supposed himself to be testifying against me, but he was really offering proof against himself that in all those distressing events he had had no feeling in common with other citizens.

Yet a man who professes such solicitude, as he has professed today, for our laws and constitution, whatever else he lacks, ought at least to possess the quality of sympathizing both with the sorrows and the joys of the common people; and, in choosing his political principles, he ought not to range himself with their enemies. But that is clearly what he has done, when he declares that I am responsible for everything, and that the city has fallen into trouble by my fault.

Your policy of bearing succor to the Greeks did not originate in my statesmanship and my principles. If you were to acknowledge that my influence caused you to resist a despotism that threatened the ruin of Greece, you would bestow on me a favor greater than all the gifts you have ever conferred on anyone. I do not claim that favor; I cannot claim it without injustice to you: and I am certain that you will not grant it. If Aeschines had acted an honest part, he would never have indulged his spite against me by impairing and defaming the noblest of your national glories.

But why reproach him for that imputation, when he has uttered calumnies of far greater audacity? A m an who accuses me of Philippism— Heaven and Earth, of what lie is he not capable? I solemnly aver that, if we are to cast aside lying imputations and spiteful mendacity, and inquire in all sincerity who really are the men to whom the reproach of all that has befallen might by general consent be fairly and honestly brought home, you will find that they are men in the several cities who resemble Aeschines, and do not resemble me.

At a time when Philip’s resources were feeble and very small indeed, when we were constantly warning, exhorting, admonishing them for the best, these men flung away their national prosperity for private and selfish gain; they cajoled and corrupted all the citizens within their grasp, until they had reduced them to slavery. So the Thessalians were treated by Daochus, Cineas, Thrasydaus, the Arcadians by Cercidas, Hieronymus, Eucampidas, the Argives by Myrtis, Teledamus, Mnaseas, the Eleians by Euxitheus, Cleotimus, Aristaechmus, the Messenians by the sons of that god-forsaken Philiades, Neon and Thrasylochus, the Sicyonians by Aristratus and Epichares, the Corinthians by Deinarchus and Demaretus, the Megarians by Ptoeodorus, Helixus, Perilaus, the Thebans by Timolaus, Theogeiton, Anemoetas, the Euboeans by Hipparchus, Cleitarchus, and Sosistratus.

Sections 296–300

I could continue this catalogue of traitors till the sun sets. Every one of them, men of Athens, is a man of the same way of thinking in the politics of his own country as Aeschines and his friends are in ours. They too are profligates, sycophants, fiends incarnate; they have mutilated their own countries; they have pledged away their liberty in their cups, first to Philip, and now to Alexander. They measure their happiness by their belly and their baser parts; they have overthrown for ever that freedom and independence which to the Greeks of an earlier age were the very standard and canon of prosperity.

Of this disgraceful and notorious conspiracy, of this wickedness, or rather, men of Athens, if I am to speak without trifling, this betrayal of the liberties of Greece, you—thanks to my policy—are guiltless in the eyes of the world, as I am guiltless in your eyes. And then, Aeschines, you ask for what merit I claim distinction! I tell you that, when all the politicians in Greece, starting with you, had been corrupted, first by Philip, and now by Alexander,

neither opportunity, nor civil speeches, nor large promises, nor hope, nor fear, nor any other inducement, could provoke or suborn me to betray the just claims and the true interests of my country, as I conceived them; and that, whatever counsels I have offered to my fellow-citizens here, I have not offered, like you, as if I were a false balance with a bias in favor of the vendor. With a soul upright, honest and incorruptible, appointed to the control of more momentous transactions than any statesman of my time, I have administered them throughout in all purity and righteousness.

On those grounds I claim this distinction. As for my fortifications, which you treated so satirically, and my entrenchments, I do, and I must, judge these things worthy of gratitude and thanks; but I give them a place far removed from my political achievements. I did not fortify Athens with masonry and brickwork: they are not the works on which I chiefly pride myself. Regard my fortifications as you ought, and you will find armies and cities and outposts, seaports and ships and horses, and a multitude ready to fight for their defence.

These were the bastions I planted for the protection of Attica so far as it was possible to human forethought; and therewith I fortified, not the ring-fence of our port and our citadel, but the whole country. Nor was I beaten by Philip in forethought or in armaments; that is far from the truth. The generals and the forces of the allies were beaten by his good fortune. Have I any proofs of my claim? Yes, proofs definite and manifest. I ask you all to consider them.

Sections 301–305

What course of action was proper for a patriotic citizen who was trying to serve his country with all possible prudence and energy and loyalty? Surely it was to protect Attica on the sea-board by Euboea, on the inland frontier by Boeotia, and on the side towards Peloponnesus by our neighbors in that direction; to make provision for the passage of our corn-supply along friendly coasts all the way to Peiraeus;

to preserve places already at our disposal, such as Proconnesus, Chersonesus, Tenedos, by sending succor to them and by suitable speeches and resolutions; to secure the friendship and alliance of such places as Byzantium, Abydos, and Euboea; to destroy the most important of the existing resources of the enemy, and to make good the deficiencies of our own city. All these purposes were accomplished by my decrees and my administrative acts.

Whoever will study them, men of Athens, without jealousy, will find that they were rightly planned and honestly executed; that the proper opportunity for each several measure was never neglected, or ignored, or thrown away by me: and that nothing within the compass of one man’s ability or forethought was left undone. If the superior power of some deity or of fortune, or the incompetence of commanders, or the wickedness of traitors, or all these causes combined, vitiated and at last shattered the whole enterprise,—is Demosthenes guilty?

If in each of the cities of Greece there had been some one man such as I was in my appointed station in your midst, nay, if Thessaly had possessed one man and Arcadia one man holding the same sentiments that I held, no Hellenic people beyond or on this side of Thermopylae would have been exposed to their present distresses:

they would still be dwelling prosperously in their own countries, in freedom and independence, securely and without fear, grateful to you and to all the Athenians for the great and manifold blessings they owed to me. To prove that, as a precaution against envy, I am using words that do less than justice to my deeds, please take these papers, and read the list of expeditions sent in pursuance of my decrees.

(The List of Expeditions in Aid is read)

Sections 306–310

It was the duty, Aeschines, of an upright and honor able citizen to take these or similar measures. If they had been successful, we should have been, beyond controversy, the greatest of nations and a nation that deserved its greatness: and, though they have failed, there remains the result that our reputation stands high, and that no man can find fault with Athens or her policy, but lays the blame on the fortune that so ordered the issue.

Assuredly it was not the duty of such a citizen to abandon the cause of his country, to take the hire of her adversaries, to wait on the occasions, not of Athens, but of her enemies. It was not his duty to look with an evil eye upon a man who had made it his business to support or propose measures worthy of our traditions, and was resolved to stand by such measures; nor to treasure vindictively the memory of private annoyances. Nor was it his duty to hold his peace dishonestly and deceptively, as you so often do.

There is, indeed, a silence that is honest and beneficial to the city, such as is observed in all simplicity by the majority of you citizens. Not such, but far, far different, is the silence of Aeschines. Withdrawing himself from public life whenever he thinks fit—and that is very frequently—he lies in wait for the time when you will be weary of the incessant speaker, or when some unlucky reverse has befallen you, or any of those vexations that are so frequent in the life of mortal men; and then, seizing the occasion, he breaks silence and the orator reappears like a sudden squall, with his voice in fine training; he strings together the words and the phrases that he has accumulated, emphatically and without a pause; but, alas, they are all useless, they serve no good purpose, they are directed to the injury of this or that citizen, and to the discredit of the whole community.

Yet if all that assiduous practice, Aeschines, had been conducted in a spirit of honesty and of solicitude for your country’s well-being, it should have yielded a rich and noble harvest for the benefit of us all—alliances of states, new revenues, development of commerce, useful legislation, measures of opposition to our avowed enemies.

In days of old all those services afforded the recognized test of statesmanship: and the time through which you have passed supplied to an upright politician many opportunities of showing his worth; but among such men you won no position—you were neither first, second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth, nor anywhere in the race—at least when the power of your country was to be enlarged.

Sections 311–315

What alliance does Athens owe to your exertions? What auxiliary expedition, what gain of amity or reputation? What embassy or service, by which the credit of the city has been raised? What project in domestic, Hellenic, or foreign policy, of which you took charge, has ever been successful? What war-galleys, or munitions, or docks, or fortifications, or cavalry, do we owe to you? Of what use in the wide world are you? What public-spirited assistance have you ever given to rich or to poor? None whatever.

But come, sir, without any of these things a man may show patriotism and zeal. Where? When? Why, you incorrigible knave, even at the time when every man who ever spoke from the tribune gave freely to the national defence, when at last even Aristonicus gave the money he had collected to redeem his citizenship, you never came forward and put your name down for a farthing. And yet you were certainly not without means, for you had inherited more than five talents from the estate of your father-in-law Philo, and you had a present of two talents, subscribed by the chairmen of the Navy Boards, as a reward for spoiling the Navy Reform Bill.

However, I will pass that by, for fear I should stray from my immediate purpose by telling one story after another. It is clear that you refused to contribute, not because you were poor, but because you were careful not to do anything in opposition to the party you serve in politics. Then on what occasions are you a man of spirit? When are you a shining light? Whenever something is to be said in prejudice of your fellow-citizens; then your voice is magnificent, then your memory is wonderful; then we hear the great tragedian, the Theocrines of the legitimate drama.

Then you remind us of the heroes of past generations. Quite right: but it is not fair, men of Athens, to take advantage of the affection you cherish for the departed, and analyze me, who am still living in your midst, by comparing me with them.

Everybody knows that against the living there is always an undercurrent of more or less jealousy, while the dead are no longer disliked even by their enemies. Such is human nature; am I then to be criticized and canvassed by comparison with my predecessors? Heaven forbid! No, Aeschines; that is unfair and unjust: compare me with yourself, or with any living man you choose, whose principles are identical with yours.

Sections 316–320

Consider this question: is it more decent and patriotic that for the sake of the services of men of old times, enormous as they were, nay, great beyond expression, the services that are now being rendered to the present age should be treated with ingratitude and vituperation, or that every man who achieves anything in a spirit of loyalty should receive some share of the respect and consideration of his fellow-citizens?

If I must deal with that subject, I say that, if my policy and my principles are considered, they will be found to resemble in spirit and purpose those of the venerated names of antiquity. Yours are like those of the men who maligned them: for it is certain that, even in their days, there were men who were always carping at the living and commending the dead—a spiteful vocation, and just like yours. You tell me I am not at all like those great men.

Are you like them, Aeschines? Or your brother? Or any other orator of this generation? In my opinion, none. Then, my honest friend— to call you nothing worse—assay a living man by the standard of living men, men of his own time. That is the test you apply to everything else—to dramatists, to choruses, to athletes.

Philammon did not leave Olympia without a crown, because he was not so strong as Glaucus of Carystus, or other bygone champions: he was crowned and proclaimed victor, because he fought better than the men who entered the ring against him. You must compare me with the orators of today; with yourself, for instance, or anyone you like: I exclude none.

When the commonwealth was at liberty to choose the best policy, when there was a competition of patriotism open to all comers, I made better speeches than any other man, and all business was conducted by my resolutions, my statutes, my diplomacy. Not one o f you ever put in an appearance— except when you must needs fall foul of my measures. But when certain deplorable events had taken place, and there was a call, not for counsellors, but for men who would obey orders, who were ready to injure their country for pay, and willing to truckle to strangers, then you and your party were at your post, great men with gorgeous equipages. I was powerless, I admit; but I was still the better patriot.

Sections 321–324

There are two traits, men of Athens, that mark the disposition of the well-meaning citizen;—that is a description I may apply to myself without offence. When in power, the constant aim of his policy should be the honor and the ascendancy of his country; and on every occasion and in all business he should preserve his loyalty. That virtue depends on his natural disposition: ability and success depend upon other considerations.

Such, you will find, has been my disposition, abidingly and without alloy. Look at the facts. They demanded that I should be given up; they arraigned me before the Amphictyonic Council; they tried me with threats, they tried me with promises; they set these miscreants to worry me like a pack of wolves; but through it all I never renounced my loyalty to you. At the very outset of my career I had chosen once for all the path of political uprightness and integrity, and resolved to support, to magnify, and to associate myself with the honor, the power, and the glory of my native land.

I do not perambulate the marketplace, gaily exulting in the good fortune of the alien, holding out my right hand, and telling the glad tidings to anyone I think likely to send word over yonder. When I hear of my country’s successes, I do not shudder, and sigh, and hang down my head, like those blasphemers, who traduce Athens, forgetting that thereby they are traducing themselves; who turn their eyes abroad, and, when the alien has prospered by the distresses of Greece, applaud his good fortune, and declare that we must try to preserve it for ever.

Never, O ye Powers of Heaven, never vouchsafe to them the fulfillment of that desire. If it be possible, implant even in them a better purpose and a better spirit; but, if their malady is incurable, consign them, and them alone, to utter and untimely destruction by land and sea, and to us who remain grant speedy deliverance from the terrors that hang over our heads, and a salvation that shall never fail.

Contents — 38 sections

1. Sections 1–5
2. Sections 6–10
3. Sections 11–15
4. Sections 16–20
5. Sections 21–25
6. Sections 26–30
7. Sections 31–35
8. Sections 36–40
9. Sections 41–45
10. Sections 46–50
11. Sections 51–55
12. Sections 56–60
13. Sections 61–65
14. Sections 66–70
15. Sections 71–75
16. Sections 76–80
17. Sections 81–85
18. Sections 86–90
19. Sections 91–95
20. Sections 96–100
21. Sections 101–105
22. Sections 106–110
23. Sections 111–115
24. Sections 116–120
25. Sections 121–125
26. Sections 126–130
27. Sections 131–135
28. Sections 136–140
29. Sections 141–145
30. Sections 146–150
31. Sections 151–155
32. Sections 156–160
33. Sections 161–165
34. Sections 166–170
35. Sections 171–175
36. Sections 176–180
37. Sections 181–185
38. Sections 186–189

Sections 1–5

Many times have I wondered at those who first convoked the national assemblies and established the athletic games, amazed that they should have thought the prowess of men’s bodies to be deserving of so great bounties, while to those who had toiled in private for the public good and trained their own minds so as to be able to help also their fellow-men they apportioned no reward whatsoever,

when, in all reason, they ought rather to have made provision for the latter; for if all the athletes should acquire twice the strength which they now possess, the rest of the world would be no better off; but let a single man attain to wisdom, and all men will reap the benefit who are willing to share his insight.

Yet I have not on this account lost heart nor chosen to abate my labors; on the contrary, believing that I shall have a sufficient reward in the approbation which my discourse will itself command, I have come before you to give my counsels on the war against the barbarians and on concord among ourselves. I am, in truth, not unaware that many of those who have claimed to be sophists

have rushed upon this theme, but I hope to rise so far superior to them that it will seem as if no word had ever been spoken by my rivals upon this subject; and, at the same time, I have singled out as the highest kind of oratory that which deals with the greatest affairs and, while best displaying the ability of those who speak, brings most profit to those who hear; and this oration is of that character.

In the next place, the moment for action has not yet gone by, and so made it now futile to bring up this question; for then, and only then, should we cease to speak, when the conditions have come to an end and there is no longer any need to deliberate about them, or when we see that the discussion of them is so complete that there is left to others no room to improve upon what has been said.

Sections 6–10

But so long as conditions go on as before, and what has been said about them is inadequate, is it not our duty to scan and study this question, the right decision of which will deliver us from our mutual warfare, our present confusion, and our greatest ills?

Furthermore, if it were possible to present the same subject matter in one form and in no other, one might have reason to think it gratuitous to weary one’s hearers by speaking again in the same manner as his predecessors; but since oratory is of such a nature

that it is possible to discourse on the same subject matter in many different ways—to represent the great as lowly or invest the little with grandeur, to recount the things of old in a new manner or set forth events of recent date in an old fashion—it follows that one must not shun the subjects upon which others have spoken before, but must try to speak better than they.

For the deeds of the past are, indeed, an inheritance common to us all; but the ability to make proper use of them at the appropriate time, to conceive the right sentiments about them in each instance, and to set them forth in finished phrase, is the peculiar gift of the wise.

And it is my opinion that the study of oratory as well as the other arts would make the greatest advance if we should admire and honor, not those who make the first beginnings in their crafts, but those who are the most finished craftsmen in each, and not those who seek to speak on subjects on which no one has spoken before, but those who know how to speak as no one else could.

Sections 11–15

Yet there are some who carp at discourses which are beyond the powers of ordinary men and have been elaborated with extreme care, and who have gone so far astray that they judge the most ambitious oratory by the standard of the pleas made in the petty actions of the courts; as if both kinds should be alike and should not be distinguished, the one by plainness of style, the other by display; or as if they themselves saw clearly the happy mean, while the man who knows how to speak elegantly could not speak simply and plainly if he chose.

Now these people deceive no one; clearly they praise those who are near their own level. I, for my part, am not concerned with such men, but rather with those who will not tolerate, but will resent, any carelessness of phrase, and will seek to find in my speeches a quality which they will not discover in others. Addressing myself to these, I shall proceed with my theme, after first vaunting a little further my own powers.

For I observe that the other orators in their introductions seek to conciliate their hearers and make excuses for the speeches which they are about to deliver, sometimes alleging that their preparation has been on the spur of the moment, sometimes urging that it is difficult to find words to match the greatness of their theme.

But as for myself, if I do not speak in a manner worthy of my subject and of my reputation and of the time which I have spent—not merely the hours which have been devoted to my speech but also all the years which I have lived—I bid you show me no indulgence but hold me up to ridicule and scorn; for there is nothing of the sort which I do not deserve to suffer, if indeed, being no better than the others, I make promises so great. So much, by way of introduction, as to my personal claims.

But as to our public interests, the speakers who no sooner come before us than they inform us that we must compose our enmities against each other and turn against the barbarian, rehearsing the misfortunes which have come upon us from our mutual warfare and the advantages which will result from a campaign against our natural enemy—these men do speak the truth, but they do not start at the point from which they could best bring these things to pass.

Sections 16–20

For the Hellenes are subject, some to us, others to the Lacedaemonians, the polities by which they govern their states having thus divided most of them. If any man, therefore, thinks that before he brings the leading states into friendly relations, the rest will unite in doing any good thing, he is all too simple and out of touch with the actual conditions.

No, the man who does not aim merely to make an oratorical display, but desires to accomplish something as well, must seek out such arguments as will persuade these two states to share and share alike with each other, to divide the supremacy between them, and to wrest from the barbarians the advantages which at the present time they desire to seize for themselves at the expense of the Hellenes.

Now our own city could easily be induced to adopt this policy, but at present the Lacedaemonians are still hard to persuade; for they have inherited the false doctrine that leadership is theirs by ancestral right. If, however, one should prove to them that this honor belongs to us rather than to them, perhaps they might give up splitting hairs about this question and pursue their true interests.

So, then, the other speakers also should have made this their starting-point and should not have given advice on matters about which we agree before instructing us on the points about which we disagree. I, at all events, am justified by a twofold motive in devoting most of my attention to these points: first and foremost, in order that some good may come of it, and that we may put an end to our mutual rivalries and unite in a war against the barbarian;

and, secondly, if this is impossible, in order that I may show who they are that stand in the way of the happiness of the Hellenes, and that all may be made to see that even as in times past Athens justly held the sovereignty of the sea, so now she not unjustly lays claim to the hegemony.

Sections 21–25

For in the first place, if it is the most experienced and the most capable who in any field of action deserve to be honored, it is without question our right to recover the hegemony which we formerly possessed; for no one can point to another state which so far excels in warfare on land as our city is superior in fighting battles on the sea.

But, in the next place, if there are any who do not regard this as a fair basis of judgement, since the reversals of fortune are frequent (for sovereignty never remains in the same hands), and who believe that the hegemony, like any other prize, should be held by those who first won this honor, or else by those who have rendered the most service to the Hellenes, I think that these also are on our side;

for the farther back into the past we go in our examination of both these titles to leadership, the farther behind shall we leave those who dispute our claims. For it is admitted that our city is the oldest and the greatest in the world and in the eyes of all men the most renowned. But noble as is the foundation of our claims, the following grounds give us even a clearer title to distinction:

for we did not become dwellers in this land by driving others out of it, nor by finding it uninhabited, nor by coming together here a motley horde composed of many races; but we are of a lineage so noble and so pure that throughout our history we have continued in possession of the very land which gave us birth, since we are sprung from its very soil and are able to address our city by the very names which we apply to our nearest kin;

for we alone of all the Hellenes have the right to call our city at once nurse and fatherland and mother. And yet, if men are to have good ground for pride and make just claims to leadership and frequently recall their ancestral glories, they must show that their race boasts an origin as noble as that which I have described.

Sections 26–30

So great, then, are the gifts which were ours from the beginning and which fortune has bestowed upon us. But how many good things we have contributed to the rest of the world we could estimate to best advantage if we should recount the history of our city from the beginning and go through all her achievements in detail; for we should find that not only was she the leader in the hazards of war, but that the social order in general in which we dwell,

with which we share the rights of citizenship and through which we are able to live, is almost wholly due to her. It is, however, necessary to single out from the number of her benefactions, not those which because of their slight importance have escaped attention and been pased over in silence, but those which because of their great importance have been and still are on the lips and in the memory of all men everywhere.

Now, first of all, that which was the first necessity of man’s nature was provided by our city; for even though the story has taken the form of a myth, yet it deserves to be told again. When Demeter came to our land, in her wandering after the rape of Kore, and, being moved to kindness towards our ancestors by services which may not be told save to her initiates, gave these two gifts, the greatest in the world—the fruits of the earth, which have enabled us to rise above the life of the beasts, and the holy rite which inspires in those who partake of it sweeter hopes regarding both the end of life and all eternity,

—our city was not only so beloved of the gods but also so devoted to mankind that, having been endowed with these great blessings, she did not begrudge them to the rest of the world, but shared with all men what she had received. The mystic rite we continue even now, each year, to reveal to the initiates; and as for the fruits of the earth, our city has, in a word, instructed the world in their uses, their cultivation, and the benefits derived from them.

This statement, when I have added a few further proofs, no one could venture to discredit. In the first place, the very ground on which we might disparage the story, namely that it is ancient, would naturally lead us to believe that the events actually came to pass; for because many have told and all have heard the story which describes them, it is reasonable to regard this not, to be sure, as recent, yet withal as worthy of our faith. In the next place, we are not obliged to take refuge in the mere fact that we have received the account and the report from remote times; on the contrary, we are able to adduce even greater proofs than this regarding what took place.

Sections 31–35

For most of the Hellenic cities, in memory of our ancient services, send us each year the first-fruits of the harvest, and those who neglect to do so have often been admonished by the Pythian priestess to pay us our due portion of their crops and to observe in relation to our city the customs of their fathers. And about what, I should like to know, can we more surely exercise our faith than about matters as to which the oracle of Apollo speaks with authority, many of the Hellenes are agreed, and the words spoken long ago confirm the practice of today, while present events tally with the statements which have come down from the men of old?

But apart from these considerations, if we waive all this and carry our inquiry back to the beginning, we shall find that those who first appeared upon the earth did not at the outset find the kind of life which we enjoy to-day, but that they procured it little by little through their own joint efforts. Whom, then, must we think the most likely either to have received this better life as a gift from the gods or to have hit upon it through their own search?

Would it not be those who are admitted by all men to have been the first to exist, to be endowed with the greatest capacity for the arts, and to be the most devoted in the worship of the gods? And surely it is superfluous to attempt to show how high is the honor which the authors of such great blessings deserve; for no one could find a reward great enough to match the magnitude of their achievements.

This much, then, I have to say about that service to humanity which is the greatest, the earliest, and the most universal in its benefits. But at about the same time, our city, seeing the barbarians in possession of most of the country, while the Hellenes were confined within a narrow space and, because of the scarcity of the land, were conspiring and making raids against each other, and were perishing, some through want of daily necessities, others through war,

—our city, I say, was not content to let these things be as they were, but sent out leaders to the several states, who, enlisting the neediest of the people, and placing themselves at their head, overcame the barbarians in war, founded many cities on either continent, settled colonies in all the islands, and saved both those who followed them and those who remained behind;

Sections 36–40

for to the latter they left the home country—sufficient for their needs—and for the former they provided more land than they had owned since they embraced in their conquests all the territory which we Hellenes now possess. And so they smoothed the way for those also who in a later time resolved to send out colonists and imitate our city; for these did not have to undergo the perils of war in acquiring territory, but could go into the country marked out by us and settle there.

And yet who can show a leadership more ancestral than this, which had its origin before most of the cities of Hellas were founded, or more serviceable than this, which drove the barbarians from their homes and advanced the Hellenes to so great prosperity?

Nor did our city, after she had played her part in bringing to pass the most important benefits, neglect what remained to be done; on the contrary she made it but the beginning of her benefactions to find for those who were in want that sustenance which men must have who are to provide well also for their other needs; but considering that an existence limited to this alone was not enough to make men desire to live, she gave such careful thought to their remaining wants as well that of the good things which are now at the service of mankind—in so far as we do not have them from the gods but owe them to each other—there is not one in which our city has had no part, and most of them are due to her alone.

For, finding the Hellenes living without laws and in scattered abodes, some oppressed by tyrannies, others perishing through anarchy, she delivered them from these evils by taking some under her protection and by setting to others her own example; for she was the first to lay down laws and establish a polity.

This is apparent from the fact that those who in the beginning brought charges of homicide, and desired to settle their mutual differences by reason and not by violence, tried their cases under our laws. Yes, and the arts also, both those which are useful in producing the necessities of life and those which have been devised to give us pleasure, she has either invented or stamped with her approval, and has then presented them to the rest of the world to enjoy.

Sections 41–45

Moreover, she has established her polity in general in such a spirit of welcome to strangers and friendliness to all men, that it adapts itself both to those who lack means and to those who wish to enjoy the means which they possess, and that it fails to be of service neither to those who are prosperous nor to those who are unfortunate in their own cities; nay, both classes find with us what they desire, the former the most delightful pastimes, the latter the securest refuge.

Again, since the different populations did not in any case possess a country that was self-sufficing, each lacking in some things and producing others in excess of their needs, and since they were greatly at a loss where they should dispose of their surplus and whence they should import what they lacked, in these difficulties also our city came to the rescue; for she established the Piraeus as a market in the center of Hellas—a market of such abundance that the articles which it is difficult to get, one here, one there, from the rest of the world, all these it is easy to procure from Athens.

Now the founders of our great festivals are justly praised for handing down to us a custom by which, having proclaimed a truce and resolved our pending quarrels, we come together in one place, where, as we make our prayers and sacrifices in common, we are reminded of the kinship which exists among us and are made to feel more kindly towards each other for the future, reviving our old friendships and establishing new ties.

And neither to common men nor to those of superior gifts is the time so spent idle and profitless, but in the concourse of the Hellenes the latter have the opportunity to display their prowess, the former to behold these contending against each other in the games; and no one lacks zest for the festival, but all find in it that which flatters their pride, the spectators when they see the athletes exert themselves for their benefit, the athletes when they reflect that all the world is come to gaze upon them. Since, then, the benefits which accrue to us from our assembling together are so great, here again our city has not been backward;

for she affords the most numerous and the most admirable spectacles, some passing all bounds in the outlay of money, some highly reputed for their artistic worth, and others excelling in both these regards; and the multitude of people who visit us is so great that, whatever advantage there is in our associating together, this also has been compassed by our city, Athens. Besides, it is possible to find with us as nowhere else the most faithful friendships and to enjoy the most varied social intercourse; and, furthermore, to see contests not alone of speed and strength, but of eloquence and wisdom and of all the other arts—and for these the greatest prizes;

Sections 46–50

since in addition to those which the city herself sets up, she prevails upon the rest of the world also to offer prizes; for the judgements pronounced by us command such great approbation that all mankind accept them, gladly. But apart from these considerations, while the assemblages at the other great festivals are brought together only at long intervals and are soon dispersed, our city throughout all time is a festival for those who visit her.

Philosophy, moreover, which has helped to discover and establish all these institutions, which has educated us for public affairs and made us gentle towards each other, which has distinguished between the misfortunes that are due to ignorance and those which spring from necessity, and taught us to guard against the former and to bear the latter nobly—philosophy, I say, was given to the world by our city. And Athens it is that has honored eloquence,

which all men crave and envy in its possessors; for she realized that this is the one endowment of our nature which singles us out from all living creatures, and that by using this advantage we have risen above them in all other respects as well; she saw that in other activities the fortunes of life are so capricious that in them often the wise fail and the foolish succeed, whereas beautiful and artistic speech is never allotted to ordinary men, but is the work of an intelligent mind,

and that it is in this respect that those who are accounted wise and ignorant present the strongest contrast; and she knew, furthermore, that whether men have been liberally educated from their earliest years is not to be determined by their courage or their wealth or such advantages, but is made manifest most of all by their speech, and that this has proved itself to be the surest sign of culture in every one of us, and that those who are skilled in speech are not only men of power in their own cities but are also held in honor in other states.

And so far has our city distanced the rest of mankind in thought and in speech that her pupils have become the teachers of the rest of the world; and she has brought it about that the name Hellenes suggests no longer a race but an intelligence, and that the title Hellenes is applied rather to those who share our culture than to those who share a common blood.

Sections 51–55

But in order that I may not appear to be dwelling at length on the details when I have proposed to speak on the general subject nor to be extolling the city for these accomplishments because I lack ground for praising her conduct in war, let what I have said suffice for those who glory in such services. But I think that honor is due to our ancestors no less for their wars than for their other benefactions;

for not slight, nor few, nor obscure, but many and dread and great, were the struggles they sustained, some for their own territories, some for the freedom of the rest of the world; for at all times, without ceasing, they have offered the city as a common refuge and as a champion to the Hellenes whenever oppressed.

And it is for this very reason that we are sometimes charged with adopting a foolish policy in that we are accustomed to cultivate the weaker peoples—as though such charges do not support those who desire to sing our praises. For it was not because we failed to appreciate how much more advantageous great alliances are in point of security that we pursued this policy in regard to the weak; no, although we realized much more exactly than our rivals the consequences of such a course, we nevertheless preferred to stand by the weaker even against our interests rather than to unite with the stronger in oppressing others for our own advantage.

The character and power of Athens may be judged from the appeals which sundry people have in times past made to us for our help. Those of recent occurrence or for insignificant ends I shall omit; but long before the Trojan War (for it is only fair that those who dispute about immemorial rights should draw their arguments from that early time) there came to us the sons of Heracles and, a little before them, Adrastus, Talaus’s son, king of Argos.

Adrastus, on his return from the expedition against Thebes where he had met with disaster and had not by his own efforts been able to recover the bodies of those who had fallen under the Cadmean fortress, called upon our city to lend aid in a misfortune which was of universal concern, and not to suffer that men who die in battle be left unburied nor that ancient custom and immemorial law be brought to naught.

Sections 56–60

The sons of Heracles, on the other hand, came fleeing the persecution of Eurystheus, ignoring the other states as not capable of succouring them in their distress, and looking upon our city as the only one great enough to make return for the benefits which their father had bestowed upon all mankind.

So from these facts it is easy to see that even at that time our city was in the position of a leader; for who would venture an appeal for help to those who were weaker than themselves, or to those who were subject to others, passing by those who had greater power, especially in matters not of personal but of public interest which none would be likely to take in hand but those who claimed to stand first among the Hellenes?

And, in the next place, the suppliants were manifestly not disappointed in the hopes which caused them to take refuge with our ancestors; for the Athenians went to war against the Thebans in the cause of those who had fallen in the battle, and against the power of Eurystheus in the cause of the sons of Heracles. Taking the field against the Thebans, they compelled them to restore the dead to their kindred for burial; and when the Peloponnesians, led by Eurystheus, had invaded our territory, they marched out against them, conquered them in battle, and put an end to their leader’s insolence.

And though they already commanded admiration for their other deeds, these exploits enhanced their fame still more; for they did not do things by halves, but so completely revolutionized the fortunes of either monarch that Adrastus, who had seen fit to throw himself on our mercy, went his way, having in despite of his foes won all that he had asked, while Eurystheus, who had expected to overpower us, was himself made captive and compelled to sue for mercy;

and, although he had throughout all his life inflicted his orders and indignities on one whose nature transcended that of man, and who, being the son of Zeus, possessed, while still a mortal, the strength of a god, yet, when Eurystheus offended against us, he suffered so complete a reverse that he fell into the power of Heracles’ sons and came to a shameful end.

Sections 61–65

Many are the services which we have rendered to the state of the Lacedaemonians, but it has suited my purpose to speak of this one only; for, starting with the advantage afforded by our succor of them, the descendants of Heracles—the progenitors of those who now reign in Lacedaemon—returned to the Peloponnese, took possession of Argos, Lacedaemon, and Messene, settled Sparta, and were established as the founders of all the blessings which the Lacedaemonians now enjoy.

These benefits they should have held in grateful remembrance, and should never have invaded this land from which they set out and acquired so great prosperity, nor have placed in peril the city which had imperilled herself for the sons of Heracles, nor, while bestowing the kingship upon his posterity, have yet thought it right that the city which was the means of the deliverance of their race should be enslaved to their power.

But if we have to leave out of account considerations of gratitude and fairness, and, returning to the main question, state the point which is most essential, assuredly it is not ancestral custom for immigrants to set themselves over the sons of the soil, or the recipients of benefits over their benefactors, or refugees over those who gave them asylum.

But I can make the matter clear in yet briefer terms. Of all the Hellenic states, excepting our own, Argos and Thebes and Lacedaemon were at that time the greatest, as they still are to this day. And yet our ancestors were manifestly so superior to them all that on behalf of the defeated Argives they dictated terms to the Thebans at the moment of their greatest pride,

and on behalf of the sons of Heracles they conquered the Argives and the rest of the Peloponnesians in battle, and delivered the founders and leaders of Lacedaemon out of all danger from Eurystheus. Therefore, as to what state was the first power in Hellas, I do not see how anyone could produce more convincing evidence.

Sections 66–70

But it seems to me fitting that I should speak also of the city’s achievements against the barbarians, the more so since the subject which I have undertaken is the question of who should take the lead against them. Now if I were to go through the list of all our wars, I should speak at undue length; therefore I shall confine myself to the most important, endeavoring to deal with this topic also in the same manner in which I have just dealt with the other.

Let us single out, then, the races which have the strongest instinct for domination and the greatest power of aggression—the Scythians and the Thracians and the Persians; it so happens that these have all had hostile designs upon us and that against all these our city has fought decisive wars. And yet what ground will be left for our opponents if it be shown that those among the Hellenes who are powerless to obtain their rights see fit to appeal to us for help, and that those among the barbarians who purpose to enslave the Hellenes make us the first object of their attacks?

Now, while the most celebrated of our wars was the one against the Persians, yet certainly our deeds of old offer evidence no less strong for those who dispute over ancestral rights. For while Hellas was still insignificant, our territory was invaded by the Thracians, led by Eumolpus, son of Poseidon, and by the Scythians, led by the Amazons, the daughters of Ares—not at the same time, but during the period when both races were trying to extend their dominion over Europe; for though they hated the whole Hellenic race, they raised complaints against us in particular, thinking that in this way they would wage war against one state only, but would at the same time impose their power on all the states of Hellas.

Of a truth they were not successful; nay, in this conflict against our forefathers alone they were as utterly overwhelmed as if they had fought the whole world. How great were the disasters which befell them is evident; for the tradition respecting them would not have persisted for so long a time if what was then done had not been without parallel.

At any rate, we are told regarding the Amazons that of all who came not one returned again, while those who had remained at home were expelled from power because of the disaster here; and we are told regarding the Thracians that, whereas at one time they dwelt beside us on our very borders, they withdrew so far from us in consequence of that expedition that in the spaces left between their land and ours many nations, races of every kind, and great cities have been established.

Sections 71–75

Noble indeed are these achievements—yea, and appropriate to those who dispute over the hegemony. But of the same breed as those which have been mentioned, and of such a kind as would naturally be expected of men descended from such ancestors, are the deeds of those who fought against Darius and Xerxes. For when that greatest of all wars broke out and a multitude of dangers presented themselves at one and the same time, when our enemies regarded themselves as irresistible because of their numbers and our allies thought themselves endowed with a courage which could not be excelled, we outdid them both,

surpassing each in the way appropriate to each; and having proved our superiority in meeting all dangers, we were straightway awarded the meed of valor, and we obtained, not long after, the sovereignty of the sea by the willing grant of the Hellenes at large and without protest from those who now seek to wrest it from our hands.

And let no one think that I ignore the fact that during these critical times the Lacedaemonians also placed the Hellenes under obligations for many services; nay, for this reason I am able the more to extol our city because, in competition with such rivals, she so far surpassed them. But I desire to speak a little more at length about these two states, and not to hasten too quickly by them, in order that we may have before us reminders both of the courage of our ancestors and of their hatred against the barbarians.

And yet I have not failed to appreciate the fact that it is difficult to come forward last and speak upon a subject which has long been appropriated, and upon which the very ablest speakers among our citizens have many times addressed you at the public funerals; for, naturally, the most important topics have already been exhausted, while only unimportant topics have been left for later speakers. Nevertheless, since they are apposite to the matter in hand, I must not shirk the duty of taking up the points which remain and of recalling them to your memory.

Now the men who are responsible for our greatest blessings and deserve our highest praise are, I conceive, those who risked their bodies in defense of Hellas; and yet we cannot in justice fail to recall also those who lived before this war and were the ruling power in each of the two states; for they it was who, in good time, trained the coming generation and turned the masses of the people toward virtue, and made of them stern foemen of the barbarians.

Sections 76–80

For they did not slight the commonwealth, nor seek to profit by it as their own possession, nor yet neglect it as the concern of others; but were as careful of the public revenues as of their private property, yet abstained from them as men ought from that to which they have no right. Nor did they estimate well-being by the standard of money, but in their regard that man seemed to have laid up the securest fortune and the noblest who so ordered his life that he should win the highest repute for himself and leave to his children the greatest name;

neither did they vie with one another in temerity, nor did they cultivate recklessness in themselves, but thought it a more dreadful thing to be charged with dishonor by their countrymen than to die honorably for their country; and they blushed more for the sins of the commonwealth than men do nowadays for their own.

The reason for this was that they gave heed to the laws to see that they should be exact and good—not so much the laws about private contracts as those which have to do with men’s daily habits of life; for they understood that for good and true men there would be no need of many written laws, but that if they started with a few principles of agreement they would readily be of one mind as to both private and public affairs.

So public-spirited were they that even in their party struggles they opposed one another, not to see which faction should destroy the other and rule over the remnant, but which should outstrip the other in doing something good for the state; and they organized their political clubs, not for personal advantage, but for the benefit of the people.

In the same spirit they governed their relations with other states. They treated the Hellenes with consideration and not with insolence, regarding it as their duty to command them in the field but not to tyrannize over them, desiring rather to be addressed as leaders than as masters, and rather to be greeted as saviors than reviled as destroyers; they won the Hellenic cities to themselves by doing kindness instead of subverting them by force,

Sections 81–85

keeping their word more faithfully than men now keep their oaths, and thinking it right to abide by their covenants as by the decrees of necessity; they exulted less in the exercise of power than they gloried in living with self-control, thinking it their duty to feel toward the weaker as they expected the stronger to feel toward themselves; and, while they regarded their home cities as their several places of abode, yet they considered Hellas to be their common fatherland.

Because they were inspired by such sentiments, and educated the young in such habits of conduct, they produced in the persons of those who fought against the Asiatic hordes men of so great valor that no one, either of the poets or of the sophists, has ever been able to speak in a manner worthy of their achievements. And I can well excuse them, for it is quite as difficult to praise those who have excelled the exploits of the rest of the world as to praise those who have done no good thing at all; for in the case of the latter the speaker has no support in deeds, and to describe the former there exist no fitting words.

For what words can match the measure of such men, who so far surpassed the members of the expedition against Troy that, whereas the latter consumed ten years beleaguering a single city they, in a short space of time, completely defeated the forces that had been collected from all Asia, and not only saved their own countries but liberated the whole of Hellas as well? And from what deeds or hardships or dangers would they have shrunk so as to enjoy men’s praise while living—these men who were so ready to lay down their lives for the sake of the glory they would have when dead?

Methinks some god out of admiration for their valor brought about this war in order that men endowed by nature with such a spirit should not be lost in obscurity nor die without renown, but should be deemed worthy of the same honors as are given to those who have sprung from the gods and are called demi-gods; for while the gods surrendered the bodies even of their own sons to the doom of nature, yet they have made immortal the memory of their valor.

Now while our forefathers and the Lacedaemonians were always emulous of each other, yet during that time their rivalry was for the noblest ends; they did not look upon each other as enemies but as competitors, nor did they court the favor of the barbarians for the enslavement of the Hellenes; on the contrary, they were of one mind when the common safety was in question, and their rivalry with each other was solely to see which of them should bring this about. They first displayed their valor when Darius sent his troops;

Sections 86–90

for when the Persians landed in Attica the Athenians did not wait for their allies, but, making the common war their private cause, they marched out with their own forces alone to meet an enemy who looked with contempt upon the whole of Hellas—a mere handful against thousands upon thousands—as if they were about to risk the lives of others, not their own; the Lacedaemonians, on the other hand, no sooner heard of the war in Attica than they put all else aside and came to our rescue, having made as great haste as if it had been their own country that was being laid waste.

A proof of the swiftness and of the rivalry of both is that, according to the account, our ancestors on one and the same day learned of the landing of the barbarians, rushed to the defense of the borders of their land, won the battle, and set up a trophy of victory over the enemy; while the Lacedaemonians in three days and as many nights covered twelve hundred stadia in marching order: so strenuously did they both hasten, the Lacedaemonians to share in the dangers, the Athenians to engage the enemy before their helpers should arrive.

Then came the later expedition, which was led by Xerxes in person; he had left his royal residence, boldly taken command as general in the field, and collected about him all the hosts of Asia. What orator, however eager to overshoot the mark, has not fallen short of the truth in speaking of this king,

who rose to such a pitch of arrogance that, thinking it a small task to subjugate Hellas, and proposing to leave a memorial such as would mark a more than human power, did not stop until he had devised and compelled the execution of a plan whose fame is on the lips of all mankind—a plan by which, having bridged the Hellespont and channelled Athos, he sailed his ships across the mainland, and marched his troops across the main?

It was against a king who had grown so proud, who had carried through such mighty tasks, and who had made himself master of so many men, that our ancestors and the Lacedaemonians marched forth, first dividing the danger: the latter going to Thermopylae to oppose the land forces with a thousand picked soldiers of their own, supported by a few of their allies, with the purpose of checking the Persians in the narrow pass from advancing farther; while our ancestors sailed to Artemisium with sixty triremes which they had manned to oppose the whole armada of the enemy.

Sections 91–95

And they dared to do these things, not so much in contempt of their foes as in keen rivalry against each other: the Lacedaemonians envying our city its victory at Marathon, and seeking to even the score, and fearing, furthermore, lest our city should twice in succession be the instrument of saving Hellas; while our ancestors, on the other hand, desired above all to maintain the reputation they had won, and to prove to the world that in their former battle they had conquered through valor and not through fortune, and in the next place to incite the Hellenes to carry on the war with their ships, by showing that in fighting on the sea no less than on the land valor prevails over numbers.

But though they displayed equal courage, they did not meet with similar fortunes. The Lacedaemonians were utterly destroyed. Although in spirit they were victorious, in body they were outworn; for it were sacrilege to say that they were defeated, since not one of them deigned to leave his post. Our ancestors, on the other hand, met and conquered the advance squadron of the Persians and when they heard that the enemy were masters of the pass, they sailed back home and adopted such measures for what remained to be done that, however many and however glorious had been their previous achievements, they outdid themselves still more in the final hazards of that war.

For when all the allies were in a state of dejection, and the Peloponnesians were fortifying the Isthmus and selfishly seeking their own safety; when the other states had submitted to the barbarians and were fighting on the Persian side, save only those which were overlooked because of their insignificance; when twelve hundred ships of war were bearing down upon them, and an innumerable army was on the point of invading Attica; when no light of deliverance could be glimpsed in any quarter, but, on the contrary, the Athenians had been abandoned by their allies and cheated of their every hope;

and when it lay in their power not only to escape from their present dangers but also to enjoy the signal honors which the King held out to them, since he conceived that if he could get the support of the Athenian fleet he could at once become master of the Peloponnesus also, then our ancestors scorned to accept his gifts; nor did they give way to anger against the Hellenes for having betrayed them and rush gladly to make terms with the barbarians;

nay, by themselves they made ready to battle for freedom, while they forgave the rest for choosing bondage. For they considered that while it was natural for the weaker states to seek their security by every means, it was not possible for those states which asserted their right to stand at the head of Hellas to avoid the perils of war; on the contrary, they believed that just as it is preferable for men who are honorable to die nobly rather than to live in disgrace, so too it is better for cities which are illustrious to be blotted out from the sight of mankind rather than to be seen in a state of bondage.

Sections 96–100

It is evident that they were of this mind; for when they were not able to marshal themselves against both the land and the sea forces at once, they took with them the entire population, abandoned the city, and sailed to the neighboring island, in order that they might encounter each force in turn. And yet how could men be shown to be braver or more devoted to Hellas than our ancestors, who, to avoid bringing slavery upon the rest of the Hellenes, endured to see their city made desolate, their land ravaged, their sanctuaries rifled, their temples burned, and all the forces of the enemy closing in upon their own country?

But in truth even this did not satisfy them; they were ready to give battle on the sea—they alone against twelve hundred ships of war. They were not, indeed, allowed to fight alone; for the Peloponnesians, put to shame by our courage, and thinking, moreover, that if the Athenians should first be destroyed, they could not themselves be saved from destruction, and that if the Athenians should succeed, their own cities would be brought into disrepute, they were constrained to share the dangers. Now the clamors that arose during the action, and the shoutings and the cheers—things which are common to all those who fight on ships—I see no reason why I should take time to describe;

my task is to speak of those matters which are distinctive and give claim to leadership, and which confirm the arguments which I have already advanced. In short, our city was so far superior while she stood unharmed that even after she had been laid waste she contributed more ships to the battle for the deliverance of Hellas than all the others put together who fought in the engagement; and no one is so prejudiced against us that he would not acknowledge that it was by winning the sea fight that we conquered in the war, and that the credit for this is due to Athens.

Who then should have the hegemony, when a campaign against the barbarians is in prospect? Should it not be they who distinguished themselves above all others in the former war? Should it not be they who many times bore, alone, the brunt of battle, and in the joint struggles of the Hellenes were awarded the prize of valor? Should it not be they who abandoned their own country to save the rest of Hellas, who in ancient times founded most of the Hellenic cities, and who later delivered them from the greatest disasters? Would it not be an outrage upon us, if, having taken the largest share in the evils of war, we should be adjudged worthy of a lesser share in its honors, and if, having at that time been placed in the lead in the cause of all the Hellenes, we should now be compelled to follow the lead of others?

Now up to this point I am sure that all men would acknowledge that our city has been the author of the greatest number of blessings, and that she should in fairness be entitled to the hegemony. But from this point on some take us to task, urging that after we succeeded to the sovereignty of the sea we brought many evils upon the Hellenes; and, in these speeches of theirs, they cast it in our teeth that we enslaved the Melians and destroyed the people of Scione.

Sections 101–105

I, however, take the view, in the first place, that it is no sign that we ruled badly if some of those who were at war with us are shown to have been severely disciplined, but that a much clearer proof that we administered the affairs of our allies wisely is seen in the fact that among the states which remained our loyal subjects not one experienced these disasters.

In the second place, if other states had dealt more leniently with the same circumstances, they might reasonably censure us; but since that is not the case, and it is impossible to control so great a multitude of states without disciplining those who offend, does it not follow that we deserve praise because we acted harshly in the fewest possible cases and were yet able to hold our dominion for the greatest length of time?

But I believe that all men are of the opinion that those will prove the best leaders and champions of the Hellenes under whom in the past those who yielded obedience have fared the best. Well, then, it will be found that under our supremacy the private households grew most prosperous and that the commonwealths also became greatest. For we were not jealous of the growing states,

nor did we engender confusion among them by setting up conflicting polities side by side, in order that faction might be arrayed against faction and that both might court our favor. On the contrary, we regarded harmony among our allies as the common boon of all, and therefore we governed all the cities under the same laws, deliberating about them in the spirit of allies, not of masters;

guarding the interests of the whole confederacy but leaving each member of it free to direct its own affairs; supporting the people but making war on despotic powers, considering it an outrage that the many should be subject to the few, that those who were poorer in fortune but not inferior in other respects should be banished from the offices, that, furthermore, in a fatherland which belongs to all in common some should hold the place of masters, others of aliens, and that men who are citizens by birth should be robbed by law of their share in the government.

Sections 106–110

It was because we had these objections, and others besides, to oligarchies that we established the same polity in the other states as in Athens itself—a polity which I see no need to extol at greater length, since I can tell the truth about it in a word: They continued to live under this regime for seventy years, and, during this time, they experienced no tyrannies, they were free from the domination of the barbarians, they were untroubled by internal factions, and they were at peace with all the world.

On account of these services it becomes all thinking men to be deeply grateful to us, much rather than to reproach us because of our system of colonization; for we sent our colonies into the depopulated states for the protection of their territories and not for our own aggrandizement. And here is proof of this: We had in proportion to the number of our citizens a very small territory, but a very great empire; we possessed twice as many ships of war as all the rest combined, and these were strong enough to engage double their number; at the very borders of Attica lay Euboea,

which was not only fitted by her situation to command the sea, but also surpassed all the islands in her general resources, and Euboea lent itself more readily to our control than did our own country besides, while we knew that both among the Hellenes and among the barbarians those are regarded most highly who have driven their neighbors from their homes and have so secured for themselves a life of affluence and ease, nevertheless, none of these considerations tempted us to wrong the people of the island;

on the contrary, we alone of those who have obtained great power suffered ourselves to live in more straitened circumstances than those who were reproached with being our slaves. And yet, had we been disposed to seek our own advantage, we should not, I imagine, have set our hearts on the territory of Scione (which, as all the world knows, we gave over to our Plataean refugees), and passed over this great territory which would have enriched us all.

Now although we have shown ourselves to be of such character and have given so convincing proof that we do not covet the possessions of others, we are brazenly denounced by those who had a hand in the decarchies—men who have befouled their own countries, who have made the crimes of the past seem insignificant, and have left the would-be scoundrels of the future no chance to exceed their villiany; and who, for all that, profess to follow the ways of Lacedaemon, when they practise the very opposite, and bewail the disasters of the Melians, when they have shamelessly inflicted irreparable wrongs upon their own citizens. For what crime have they overlooked?

Sections 111–115

What act of shame or outrage is wanting in their careers? They regarded the most lawless of men as the most loyal; they courted traitors as if they were benefactors; they chose to be slaves to one of the Helots so that they might oppress their own countries; they honored the assassins and murderers of their fellow-citizens more than their own parents;

and to such a stage of brutishness did they bring us all that, whereas in former times, because of the prosperity which prevailed, every one of us found many to sympathize with him even in trifling reverses, yet under the rule of these men, because of the multitude of our own calamities, we ceased feeling pity for each other, since there was no man to whom they allowed enough of respite so that he could share another’s burdens.

For what man dwelt beyond their reach? What man was so far removed from public life that he was not forced into close touch with the disasters into which such creatures plunged us? But in the face of all this, these men, who brought their own cities to such a pitch of anarchy, do not blush to make unjust charges against our city; nay, to crown their other effronteries, they even have the audacity to talk of the private and public suits which were once tried in Athens, when they themselves put to death without trial more men in the space of three months than Athens tried during the whole period of her supremacy.

And of their banishments, their civil strife, their subversion of laws, their political revolutions, their atrocities upon children, their insults to women, their pillage of estates, who could tell the tale? I can only say this much of the whole business—the severities under our administration could have been readily brought to an end by a single vote of the people, while the murders and acts of violence under their regime are beyond any power to remedy.

And, furthermore, not even the present peace, nor yet that “autonomy” which is inscribed in the treaties but is not found in our governments, is preferable to the rule of Athens. For who would desire a condition of things where pirates command the seas and mercenaries occupy our cities;

Sections 116–120

where fellow-countrymen, instead of waging war in defense of their territories against strangers, are fighting within their own walls against each other; where more cities have been captured in war than before we made the peace; and where revolutions follow so thickly upon each other that those who are at home in their own countries are more dejected than those who have been punished with exile? For the former are in dread of what is to come, while the latter live ever in the hope of their return.

And so far are the states removed from “freedom” and “autonomy” that some of them are ruled by tyrants, some are controlled by alien governors, some have been sacked and razed, and some have become slaves to the barbarians—the same barbarians whom we once so chastened for their temerity in crossing over into Europe, and for their overweening pride,

that they not only ceased from making expeditions against us, but even endured to see their own territory laid waste; and we brought their power so low, for all that they had once sailed the sea with twelve hundred ships, that they launched no ship of war this side of Phaselis but remained inactive and waited on more favorable times rather than trust in the forces which they then possessed.

And that this state of affairs was due to the valor of our ancestors has been clearly shown in the fortunes of our city: for the very moment when we were deprived of our dominion marked the beginning of a dominion of ills for the Hellenes. In fact, after the disaster which befell us in the Hellespont, when our rivals took our place as leaders, the barbarians won a naval victory, became rulers of the sea, occupied most of the islands, made a landing in Laconia, took Cythera by storm, and sailed around the whole Peloponnesus, inflicting damage as they went.

One may best comprehend how great is the reversal in our circumstances if he will read side by side the treaties which were made during our leadership and those which have been published recently; for he will find that in those days we were constantly setting limits to the empire of the King, levying tribute on some of his subjects, and barring him from the sea; now, however, it is he who controls the destinies of the Hellenes, who dictates what they must each do, and who all but sets up his viceroys in their cities.

Sections 121–125

For with this one exception, what else is lacking? Was it not he who decided the issue of the war, was it not he who directed the terms of peace, and is it not he who now presides over our affairs? Do we not sail off to him as to a master, when we have complaints against each other? Do we not address him as “The Great King” as though we were the captives of his spear? Do we not in our wars against each other rest our hopes of salvation on him, who would gladly destroy both Athens and Lacedaemon ?

Reflecting on these things, we may well be indignant at the present state of affairs, and yearn for our lost supremacy: and we may well blame the Lacedaemonians because, although in the beginning they entered upon the war with the avowed intention of freeing the Hellenes, in the end they delivered so many of them into bondage, and because they induced the Ionians to revolt from Athens, the mother city from which the Ionians emigrated and by whose influence they were often preserved from destruction, and then betrayed them to the barbarians—those barbarians in despite of whom they possess their lands and against whom they have never ceased to war.

At that time the Lacedaemonians were indignant because we thought it right by legitimate means to extend our dominion over certain peoples. Now, however, they feel no concern, when these peoples are reduced to such abject servitude that it is not enough that they should be forced to pay tribute and see their citadels occupied by their foes, but, in addition to these public calamities, must also in their own persons submit to greater indignities than those which are suffered in our world by purchased slaves; for none of us is so cruel to his servants as are the barbarians in punishing free men.

But the crowning misery is that they are compelled to take the field with the enemy in the very cause of slavery and to fight against men who assert their right to freedom, and to submit to hazards of war on such terms that in case of defeat they will be destroyed at once, and in case of victory they will strengthen the claims of their bondage for all time to come.

For these evils, who else, can we think, is to blame but the Lacedaemonians, seeing that they have so great power, yet look on with indifference while those who have placed themselves under the Lacedaemonian alliance are visited with such outrages, and while the barbarian builds up his own empire by means of the strength of the Hellenes? In former days, it is true, they used to expel tyrants and bring succor to the people, but now they have so far reversed their policy that they make war on responsible governments and aid in establishing absolute monarchies;

Sections 126–130

they sacked and razed the city of Mantinea, after peace had been concluded; they seized the Cadmea in Thebes; and now they are laying siege to Olynthus and Phlius: on the other hand, they are assisting Amyntas, king of the Macedonians, and Dionysius, the tyrant of Sicily, and the barbarian king who rules over Asia, to extend their dominions far and wide.

And yet is it not extraordinary that those who stand at the head of the Hellenes should set up one man as master over a host of human beings so great that it is not easy to ascertain even their numbers, while they do not permit the very greatest of our cities to govern even themselves, but try to compel them to submit to slavery or else involve them in the greatest disasters?

But most monstrous of all it is to see a people who arrogate to themselves the right of leadership making war every day upon the Hellenes and committed for all time to an alliance with the barbarians.

And let no one suppose that I am ill-natured, because I have recalled these facts to you in rather harsh terms, after having stated at the outset that I intended to speak on conciliation; for it is not with the intention of stigmatizing the city of the Lacedaemonians in the eyes of others that I have spoken as I have about them, but that I may induce the Lacedaemonians themselves, so far as it lies in the power of words to do so, to make an end of such a policy.

It is not, however, possible to turn men from their errors, or to inspire in them the desire for a different course of action without first roundly condemning their present conduct; and a distinction must be made between accusation, when one denounces with intent to injure, and admonition, when one uses like words with intent to benefit; for the same words are not to be interpreted in the same way unless they are spoken in the same spirit.

Sections 131–135

For we have reason to reproach the Lacedaemonians for this also, that in the interest of their own city they compel their neighbors to live in serfdom, but for the common advantage of their allies they refuse to bring about a similar condition, although it lies in their power to make up their quarrel with us and reduce all the barbarians to a state of subjection to the whole of Hellas.

And yet it is the duty of men who are proud because of natural gifts and not merely because of fortune to undertake such deeds much rather than to levy tribute on the islanders, who are deserving of their pity, seeing that because of the scarcity of land they are compelled to till mountains, while the people of the mainland, because of the abundance of their territory, allow most of it to lie waste, and have, nevertheless, from that part of it which they do harvest, grown immensely rich.

It is my opinion that if anyone should come here from another part of the world and behold the spectacle of the present state of our affairs, he would charge both the Athenians and the Lacedaemonians with utter madness, not only because we risk our lives fighting as we do over trifles when we might enjoy in security a wealth of possessions, but also because we continually impoverish our own territory while neglecting to exploit that of Asia.

As for the barbarian, nothing is more to his purpose than to take measures to prevent us from ever ceasing to make war upon each other; while we, on the contrary, are so far from doing anything to embroil his interests or foment rebellion among his subjects that when, thanks to fortune, dissensions do break out in his empire we actually lend him a hand in putting them down. Even now, when the two armies are fighting in Cyprus, we permit him to make use of the one and to besiege the other, although both of them belong to Hellas;

for the Cyprians, who are in revolt against him, are not only on friendly terms with us but are also seeking the protection of the Lacedaemonians; and as to the forces which are led by Tiribazus, the most effective troops of his infantry have been levied from these parts, and most of his fleet has been brought together from Ionia; and all these would much more gladly make common cause and plunder Asia than risk their lives fighting against each other over trifling issues.

Sections 136–140

But these things we take no thought to prevent; instead, we wrangle about the islands of the Cyclades, when we have so recklessly given over so many cities and such great forces to the barbarians. And therefore some of our possessions are now his, some will soon be his, and others are threatened by his treacherous designs. And he has rightly conceived an utter contempt for us all;

for he has attained what no one of his ancestors ever did: Asia has been conceded both by us and by the Lacedaemonians to belong to the King; and as for the cities of the Hellenes, he has taken them so absolutely under his control that he either razes them to the ground or builds his fortresses within them. And all this has come about by reason of our own folly, not because of his power.

And yet there are those who stand in awe of the greatness of the King’s power and maintain that he is a dangerous enemy, dwelling at length on the many reversals which he has brought about in the affairs of the Hellenes. In my judgement, however, those who express such sentiments do not discourage but urge on the expedition; for if he is going to be hard to make war against when we have composed our differences and while he, himself is still beset by dissensions, then verily we should be in utmost dread of that time when the conflicting interests of the barbarians are settled and are governed by a single purpose, while we continue to be, as now, hostile to each other.

But even though these objectors do in fact lend support to my contention, yet, for all that, they are mistaken in their views about the power of the King; for if they could show that he had ever in the past prevailed over both Athens and Lacedaemon at once, they would have reason for attempting to alarm us now. But if this is not the case, and the truth is that when we and the Lacedaemonians have been in conflict he has but given support to one of the two sides and so rendered the achievements of that one side more brilliant, this is no evidence of his own power. For in such times of crisis small forces have often played a great part in turning the scale; for example, even for the people of Chios I might make the claim that whichever side they have been inclined to support, that side has proved stronger on the sea.

Nay, it is obviously not fair to estimate the power of the King from those exploits in which he has joined forces with the one or the other of us, but rather from the wars which he, unaided, has fought on his own behalf. Take, first, the case of Egypt: since its revolt from the King, what progress has he made against its inhabitants? Did he not dispatch to this war the most renowned of the Persians, Abrocomas and Tithraustes and Pharnabazus, and did not they, after remaining there three years and suffering more disasters than they inflicted, finally withdraw in such disgrace that the rebels are no longer content with their freedom, but are already trying to extend their dominion over the neighboring peoples as well?

Sections 141–145

Next, there is his campaign against Evagoras. Evagoras is ruler over but a single city; he is given over to the Persians by the terms of the Treaty; his is an insular power and he has already sustained a disaster to his fleet; he has, at present, for the defense of his territory only three thousand light-armed troops; yet, humble as is the power of Evagoras, the King has not the power to conquer it in war, but has already frittered away six years in the attempt; and, if we may conjecture the future by the past, there is much more likelihood that someone else will rise in revolt before Evagoras is reduced by the siege—so slothful is the King in his enterprises.

Again, in the Rhodian War, the King had the good will of the allies of Lacedaemon because of the harshness with which they were governed, he availed himself of the help of our seamen; and at the head of his forces was Conon, who was the most competent of our generals, who possessed more than any other the confidence of the Hellenes, and who was the most experienced in the hazards of war; yet, although the King had such a champion to help him in the war, he suffered the fleet which bore the brunt of the defense of Asia to be bottled up for three years by only an hundred ships, and for fifteen months he deprived the soldiers of their pay; and the result would have been, had it depended upon the King alone, that they would have been disbanded more than once; but, thanks to their commander and to the alliance which was formed at Corinth, they barely succeeded in winning a naval victory.

And these were the most royal and the most imposing of his achievements, and these are the deeds about which people are never weary of speaking who are fain to exalt the power of the barbarians! So no one can say that I am not fair in my use of instances, nor that I dwell upon the minor undertakings of the King and pass over the most important;

for I have striven to forestall just such a complaint, and have recounted the most glorious of his exploits. I do not, however, forget his minor campaigns; I do not forget that Dercylidas, with a thousand heavy-armed troops, extended his power over Aeolis; that Draco took possession of Atarneus, and afterwards collected an army of three thousand light-armed men, and devastated the plains of Mysia; that Thimbron, with a force only a little larger, crossed over into Lydia and plundered the whole country; and that Agesilaus, with the help of the army of Cyrus, conquered almost all the territory this side of the Halys river.

And assuredly we have no greater reason to fear the army which wanders about with the King nor the valor of the Persians themselves; for they were clearly shown by the troops who marched inland with Cyrus to be no better than the King’s soldiers who live on the coast. I refrain from speaking of all the other battles in which the Persians were worsted, and I am willing to grant that they were split with factions, and so where not inclined to throw themselves wholeheartedly into the struggle against the King’s brother.

Sections 146–150

But after Cyrus had been killed, and all the people of Asia had joined forces, even under these favorable conditions they made such a disgraceful failure of the war as to leave for those who are in the habit of vaunting Persian valor not a word to say. For they had to deal with only six thousand Hellenes—not picked troops, but men who, owing to stress of circumstances, were unable to live in their own cities. These were, moreover, unfamiliar with the country; they had been deserted by their allies; they had been betrayed by those who made the expedition with them; they had been deprived of the general whom they had followed;

and yet the Persians were so inferior to these men that the King, finding himself in difficult straits and having no confidence in the force which was under his own command, did not scruple to arrest the captains of the auxiliaries in violation of the truce, hoping by this lawless act to throw their army into confusion, and preferring to offend against the gods rather than join issue openly with these soldiers.

But when he failed in this plot—for the soldiers not only stood together but bore their misfortune nobly,—then, as they set out on their journey home, he sent with them Tissaphernes and the Persian cavalry. But although these kept plotting against them throughout the entire journey, the Hellenes continued their march to the end as confidently as if they had been under friendly escort, dreading most of all the uninhabited regions of that country, and deeming it the best possible fortune to fall in with as many of the enemy as possible.

Let me sum up the whole matter: These men did not set out to get plunder or to capture a town, but took the field against the King himself, and yet they returned in greater security than ambassadors who go to him on a friendly mission. Therefore it seems to me that in every quarter the Persians have clearly exposed their degeneracy; for along the coast of Asia they have been defeated in many battles, and when they crossed to Europe they were duly punished, either perishing miserably or saving their lives with dishonor; and to crown all, they made themselves objects of derision under the very walls of their King’s palace.

And none of these things has happened by accident, but all of them have been due to natural causes; for it is not possible for people who are reared and governed as are the Persians, either to have a part in any other form of virtue or to set up on the field of battle trophies of victory over their foes. For how could either an able general or a good soldier be produced amid such ways of life as theirs? Most of their population is a mob without discipline or experience of dangers, which has lost all stamina for war and has been trained more effectively for servitude than are the slaves in our country.

Sections 151–155

Those, on the other hand, who stand highest in repute among them have never governed their lives by dictates of equality or of common interest or of loyalty to the state; on the contrary, their whole existence consists of insolence toward some, and servility towards others—a manner of life than which nothing could be more demoralizing to human nature. Because they are rich, they pamper their bodies; but because they are subject to one man’s power, they keep their souls in a state of abject and cringing fear, parading themselves at the door of the royal palace, prostrating themselves, and in every way schooling themselves to humility of spirit, falling on their knees before a mortal man, addressing him as a divinity, and thinking more lightly of the gods than of men.

So it is that those of the Persians who come down to the sea, whom they term satraps, do not dishonor the training which they receive at home, but cling steadfastly to the same habits: they are faithless to their friends and cowardly to their foes; their lives are divided between servility on the one hand and arrogance on the other; they treat their allies with contempt and pay court to their enemies.

For example, they maintained the army under Agesilaus at their own expense for eight months, but they deprived the soldiers who were fighting in the Persian cause of their pay for double that length of time; they distributed an hundred talents among the captors of Cisthene, but treated more outrageously than their prisoners of war the troops who supported them in the campaign against Cyprus.

To put it briefly—and not to speak in detail but in general terms,— who of those that have fought against them has not come off with success, and who of those that have fallen under their power has not perished from their atrocities? Take the case of Conon, who, as commander in the service of Asia, brought an end to the power of the Lacadaemonians: did they not shamelessly seize him for punishment by death? Take, on the other hand, the case of Themistocles, who in the service of Hellas defeated them at Salamis: did they not think him worthy of the greatest gifts?

Then why should we cherish the friendship of men who punish their benefactors and so openly flatter those who do them injury? Who is there among us whom they have not wronged? When have they given the Hellenes a moment’s respite from their treacherous plots? What in our world is not hateful to them who did not shrink in the earlier war from rifling even the images and temples of the gods, and burning them to the ground?

Sections 156–160

Therefore, the Ionians deserve to be commended because, when their sanctuaries had been burned, they invoked the wrath of Heaven upon any who should disturb the ruins or should desire to restore their shrines as they were of old; and they did this, not because they lacked the means to rebuild them, but in order that there might be left a memorial to future generations of the impiety of the barbarians, and that none might put their trust in men who do not scruple to commit such sins against our holy temples, but that all might be on their guard against them and fear them, seeing that they waged that war not against our persons only, but even against our votive offerings to the gods.

Of my own countrymen also I have a similar tale to tell. For towards all other peoples with whom they have been at war, they forget their past enmities the moment they have concluded peace, but toward the Asiatics they feel no gratitude even when they receive favors from them; so eternal is the wrath which they cherish against the barbarians. Again, our fathers condemned many to death for defection to the Medes; in our public assemblies even to this day, before any other business is transacted, the Athenians call down curses upon any citizen who proposes friendly overtures to the Persians; and, at the celebration of the Mysteries, the Eumolpidae and the Kerykes, because of our hatred of the Persians, give solemn warning to the other barbarians also, even as to men guilty of murder, that they are for ever banned from the sacred rites.

So ingrained in our nature is our hostility to them that even in the matter of our stories we linger most fondly over those which tell of the Trojan and the Persian wars, because through them we learn of our enemies’ misfortunes; and you will find that our warfare against the barbarians has inspired our hymns, while that against the Hellenes has brought forth our dirges; and that the former are sung at our festivals, while we recall the latter on occasions of sorrow.

Moreover, I think that even the poetry of Homer has won a greater renown because he has nobly glorified the men who fought against the barbarians, and that on this account our ancestors determined to give his art a place of honor in our musical contests and in the education of our youth, in order that we, hearing his verses over and over again, may learn by heart the enmity which stands from of old between us and them, and that we, admiring the valor of those who were in the war against Troy, may conceive a passion for like deeds.

So it seems to me that the motives which summon us to enter upon a war against them are many indeed; but grief among them is the present opportunity, which we must not throw away; for it is disgraceful to neglect a chance when it is present and regret it when it is past. Indeed, what further advantage could we desire to have on our side when contemplating a war against the King beyond those which are now at hand?

Sections 161–165

Are not Egypt and Cyprus in revolt against him? Have not Phoenicia and Syria been devastated because of the war? Has not Tyre, on which he set great store, been seized by his foes? Of the cities in Cilicia, the greater number are held by those who side with us and the rest are not difficult to acquire. Lycia no Persian has ever subdued.

Hecatomnus, the viceroy of Caria, has in reality been disaffected for a long time now, and will openly declare himself whenever we wish. From Cnidus to Sinope the coast of Asia is settled by Hellenes, and these we need not to persuade to go to war—all we have to do is not to restrain them. With such bases at our command for the operation of our forces, and with so widespread a war threatening Asia on every side, why, then, need we examine too closely what the outcome will be? For since the barbarians are unequal to small divisions of the Hellenes, it is not hard to foresee what would be their plight if they should be forced into a war against our united forces.

But this is how the matter stands: If the barbarian strengthens his hold on the cities of the coast by stationing in them larger garrisons than he has there now, perhaps those of the islands which lie near the mainland, as, for example, Rhodes and Samos and Chios, might incline to his side; but if we get possession of them first, we may expect that the populations of Lydia and Phrygia and of the rest of the up-country will be in the power of our forces operating from those positions.

Therefore we must be quick and not waste time, in order that we may not repeat the experience of our fathers. For they, because they took the field later than the barbarians and had to abandon some of their allies, were compelled to encounter great numbers with a small force; whereas, if they had crossed over to the continent in time to be first on the ground, having with them the whole strength of Hellas, they could have subdued each of the nations there in turn.

For experience has shown that when you go to war with people who are gathered together from many places, you must not wait until they are upon you, but must strike while they are still scattered. Now our fathers, having made this mistake at the outset, entirely retrieved it only after engaging in the most perilous of struggles; but we, if we are wise, shall guard against it from the beginning, and endeavor to be the first to quarter an army in the region of Lydia and Ionia,

Sections 166–170

knowing that the King holds sway over the people of the continent, not because they are his willing subjects, but because he has surrounded himself with a force which is greater than any of those which they severally possess. So whenever we transport thither a force stronger than his, which we can easily do if we so will, we shall enjoy in security the resources of all Asia. Moreover, it is much more glorious to fight against the King for his empire than to contend against each other for the hegemony.

It were well to make the expedition in the present generation, in order that those who have shared in our misfortunes may also benefit by our advantages and not continue all their days in wretchedness. For sufficient is the time that is past, filled as it has been with every form of horror; for many as are the ills which are incident to the nature of man, we have ourselves invented more than those which necessity lays upon us, by engendering wars and factions among ourselves;

and, in consequence, some are being put to death contrary to law in their own countries, others are wandering with their women and children in strange lands, and many, compelled through lack of the necessities of life to enlist in foreign armies, are being slain, fighting for their foes against their friends. Against these ills no one has ever protested; and people are not ashamed to weep over the calamities which have been fabricated by the poets, while they view complacently the real sufferings, the many terrible sufferings, which result from our state of war; and they are so far from feeling pity that they even rejoice more in each other’s sorrows than in their own blessings.

But perhaps many might even laugh at my simplicity if I should lament the misfortunes of individual men, in times like these, when Italy has been laid waste, when Sicily has been enslaved, when such mighty cities have been given over to the barbarians, and when the remaining portions of the Hellenic race are in the gravest peril.

I am amazed at those who hold power in our states, if they think that they have occasion to be proud when they have never been able either to propose or to conceive a remedy for a situation so momentous; for they ought, if they had been worthy of their present reputation, to have dropped all else, and have proposed measures and given counsel about our war against the barbarians.

Sections 171–175

Perhaps they might have helped us to get something done; but even if they had given up before gaining their object, they would, at any rate, have left to us their words as oracles for the future. But as things are, those who are held in highest honor are intent on matters of little consequence, and have left it to us, who stand aloof from public life, to advise on matters of so great moment.

Nevertheless, the more faint-hearted our leading men happen to be, the more vigorously must the rest of us look to the means by which we shall deliver ourselves from our present discord. For as matters now stand, it is in vain that we make our treaties of peace; for we do not settle our wars, but only postpone them and wait for the opportune moment when we shall have the power to inflict some irreparable disaster upon each other.

We must clear from our path these treacherous designs and pursue that course of action which will enable us to dwell in our several cities with greater security and to feel greater confidence in each other. What I have to say on these points is simple and easy: It is not possible for us to cement an enduring peace unless we join together in a war against the barbarians, nor for the Hellenes to attain to concord until we wrest our material advantages from one and the same source and wage our wars against one and the same enemy.

When these conditions have been realized, and when we have been freed from the poverty which afflicts our lives—a thing that breaks up friendships, perverts the affections of kindred into enmity, and plunges the whole world into war and strife—then surely we shall enjoy a spirit of concord, and the good will which we shall feel towards each other will be genuine. For all these reasons, we must make it our paramount duty to transfer the war with all speed from our boundaries to the continent, since the only benefit which we can reap from the wars which we have waged against each other is by resolving that the experience which we have gained from them shall be employed against the barbarians.

But is it not well, you may perhaps ask, on account of the Treaty, to curb ourselves and not be over-hasty or make the expedition too soon, seeing that the states which have gained their freedom through the Treaty feel grateful toward the King, because they believe that it was through him that they gained their independence, while those states which have been delivered over to the barbarians complain very bitterly of the Lacedaemonians and only less bitterly of the other Hellenes who entered into the peace, because, in their view, they were forced by them into slavery? But, I reply, is it not our duty to annul this agreement, which has given birth to such a sentiment—the sentiment that the barbarian cares tenderly for Hellas, and stands guard over her peace, while among ourselves are to be found those who outrage and evilly entreat her?

Sections 176–180

The crowning absurdity of all, however, is the fact that among the articles which are written in the agreement it is only the worst which we guard and observe. For those which guarantee the independence of the islands and of the cities in Europe have long since been broken and are dead letters on the pillars, while those which bring shame upon us and by which many of our allies have been given over to the enemy—these remain intact, and we all regard them as binding upon us, though we ought to have expunged them and not allowed them to stand a single day, looking upon them as commands, and not as compacts; for who does not know that a compact is something which is fair and impartial to both parties, while a command is something which puts one side at a disadvantage unjustly?

On this ground we may justly complain of our envoys who negotiated this peace, because, although dispatched by the Hellenes, they made the Treaty in the interest of the barbarians. For they ought, no matter whether they took the view that each of the states concerned should retain its original territory, or that each should extend its sovereignty over all that it had acquired by conquest, or that we should each retain control over what we held when peace was declared—they ought, I say, to have adopted definitely some one of these views, applying the principle impartially to all, and on this basis to have drafted the articles of the Treaty.

But instead of that, they assigned no honor whatsoever to our city or to Lacedaemon, while they set up the barbarian as lord of all Asia; as if we had gone to war for his sake, or as if the rule of the Persians had been long established, and we were only just now founding our cities—whereas in fact it is they who have only recently attained this place of honor, while Athens and Lacedaemon have been throughout their entire history a power among the Hellenes.

I think, however, that I shall show still more clearly both the dishonor which we have suffered, and the advantage which the King has gained by putting the matter in this way: All the world which lies beneath the firmament being divided into two parts, the one called Asia, the other Europe, he has taken half of it by the Treaty, as if he were apportioning the earth with Zeus, and not making compacts with men.

Yes, and he has compelled us to engrave this Treaty on pillars of stone and place it in our public temples— a trophy far more glorious for him than those which are set up on fields of battle; for the latter are for minor deeds and a single success, but this treaty stands as a memorial of the entire war and of the humiliation of the whole of Hellas.

Sections 181–185

These things may well rouse our indignation and make us look to the means by which we shall take vengeance for the past and set the future right. For verily it is shameful for us, who in our private life think the barbarians are fit only to be used as household slaves, to permit by our public policy so many of our allies to be enslaved by them; and it is disgraceful for us, when our fathers who engaged in the Trojan expedition because of the rape of one woman, all shared so deeply in the indignation of the wronged that they did not stop waging war until they had laid in ruins the city of him who had dared to commit the crime,

—it is disgraceful for us, I say, now that all Hellas is being continually outraged, to take not a single step to wreak a common vengeance, although we have it in our power to accomplish deeds as lofty as our dreams. For this war is the only war which is better than peace; it will be more like a sacred mission than a military expedition; and it will profit equally both those who crave the quiet life and those who are eager for war; for it will enable the former to reap the fruits of their own possessions in security and the latter to win great wealth from the possessions of our foes.

You will find, if you weigh the matter carefully, that this undertaking is most desirable for us from many points of view. For against whom, pray, ought men to wage war who crave no aggrandizement, but look to the claims of justice alone? Is it not against those who in the past have injured Hellas, and are now plotting against her, and have always been so disposed towards us?

And against whom should we expect men to direct their envy who, while not wholly lacking in courage, yet curb this feeling with prudence? Is it not against those who have compassed powers that are too great for man, and yet are less deserving than those who are unfortunate among us? And against whom should those take the field who both desire to serve their gods and are at the same time intent on their own advantage? Is it not against those who are both their natural enemies and their hereditary foes, who have acquired the greatest possessions and are yet, of all men, the least able to defend them? Do not the Persians, then, fulfill all these conditions?

Furthermore, we shall not even trouble the several states by levying soldiers from them—a practice which now in our warfare against each other they find most burdensome. For it is my belief that those who will be inclined to remain at home will be far fewer than those who will be eager to join this army. For who, be he young or old, is so indolent that he will not desire to have a part in this expedition—an expedition led by the Athenians and the Lacedaemonians, gathered together in the cause of the liberty of our allies, dispatched by all Greece, and faring forth to wreak vengeance on the barbarians?

Sections 186–189

And how great must we think will be the name and the fame and the glory which they will enjoy during their lives, or, if they die in battle, will leave behind them—they who will have won the meed of honor in such an enterprise? For if those who made war against an Alexander and took a single city were accounted worthy of such praise, what encomiums should we expect these men to win who have conquered the whole of Asia? For who that is skilled to sing or trained to speak will not labor and study in his desire to leave behind a memorial both of his own genius and of their valor, for all time to come?

I am not at the present moment of the same mind as I was at the beginning of my speech. For then I thought that I should be able to speak in a manner worthy of my theme; now, however, I have not risen to its grandeur, and many of the thoughts which I had in mind to utter have escaped me. Therefore you must come to my aid and try to picture to yourselves what vast prosperity we should attain if we should turn the war which now involves ourselves against the peoples of the continent, and bring the prosperity of Asia across to Europe.

And you must not depart to your homes as men who have merely listened to an oration; nay, those among you who are men of action must exhort one another to try to reconcile our city with Lacedaemon; and those among you who make claims to eloquence must stop composing orations on “deposits,” or on the other trivial themes which now engage your efforts, and center your rivalry on this subject and study how you may surpass me in speaking on the same question,

bearing ever in mind that it does not become men who promise great things to waste their time on little things, nor yet to make the kind of speeches which will improve no whit the lives of those whom they convince, but rather the kind which, if carried out in action, will both deliver the authors themselves from their present distress and win for them the credit of bringing to pass great blessings for the rest of the world.

Contents — 65 sections

1. Sections 1–5
2. Sections 6–10
3. Sections 11–15
4. Sections 16–20
5. Sections 21–25
6. Sections 26–30
7. Sections 31–35
8. Sections 36–40
9. Sections 41–45
10. Sections 46–50
11. Sections 51–55
12. Sections 56–60
13. Sections 61–65
14. Sections 66–70
15. Sections 71–75
16. Sections 76–80
17. Sections 81–85
18. Sections 86–90
19. Sections 91–95
20. Sections 96–100
21. Sections 101–105
22. Sections 106–110
23. Sections 111–115
24. Sections 116–120
25. Sections 121–125
26. Sections 126–130
27. Sections 131–135
28. Sections 136–140
29. Sections 141–145
30. Sections 146–150
31. Sections 151–155
32. Sections 156–160
33. Sections 161–165
34. Sections 166–170
35. Sections 171–175
36. Sections 176–180
37. Sections 181–185
38. Sections 186–190
39. Sections 191–195
40. Sections 196–200
41. Sections 201–205
42. Sections 206–210
43. Sections 211–215
44. Sections 216–220
45. Sections 221–225
46. Sections 226–230
47. Sections 231–235
48. Sections 236–240
49. Sections 241–245
50. Sections 246–250
51. Sections 251–255
52. Sections 256–260
53. Sections 261–265
54. Sections 266–270
55. Sections 271–275
56. Sections 276–280
57. Sections 281–285
58. Sections 286–290
59. Sections 291–295
60. Sections 296–300
61. Sections 301–305
62. Sections 306–310
63. Sections 311–315
64. Sections 316–320
65. Sections 321–323

Sections 1–5

If the discourse which is now about to be read had been like the speeches which are produced either for the law-courts or for oratorical display, I should not, I suppose, have prefaced it by any explanation. Since, however, it is novel and different in character, it is necessary to begin by setting forth the reasons why I chose to write a discourse so unlike any other; for if I neglected to make this clear, my speech would, no doubt, impress many as curious and strange.

The fact is that, although I have known that some of the sophists traduce my occupation, saying that it has to do with writing speeches for the courts, very much as one might have the effrontery to call Pheidias, who wrought our statue of Athena, a doll-maker, or say that Zeuxis and Parrhasius practiced the same art as the sign-painters, nevertheless I have never deigned to defend myself against their attempts to belittle me,

because I considered that their foolish babble had no influence whatever and that I had, myself, made it manifest to all that I had elected to speak and write, not on petty disputes, but on subjects so important and so elevated that no one would attempt them except those who had studied with me, and their would-be imitators.

Indeed, I had always thought, until well on in years, that, owing to this choice and to my retired life in general, I stood fairly well in the opinion of all the lay public. Then when my career was near its close, having been challenged to an exchange of property on the question of a trierarchy, and subjected to a trial on that issue, I came to realize that even outside of my profession there were those who were not disposed towards me as I had thought; nay, that some had been absolutely misled as to my pursuits and were inclined to listen to my detractors, while others, who were well aware of the nature of my work, were envious, feeling the same towards me as do the sophists, and rejoiced to see people hold false opinions of my character.

They betrayed their sentiments at the trial; for, although my opponent made no argument whatever on the merits of the case, and did nothing but decry my “cleverness” of speech and indulge in extravagant nonsense about my wealth and the number of my pupils, they imposed the trierarchy upon me. Now, I bore that expense in such a manner as is becoming to those who are neither too much upset by such things nor altogether reckless or even careless about money.

Sections 6–10

But when my eyes were opened, as I have said, to the fact that a greater number than I supposed had mistaken ideas about me, I began to ponder how I could show to them and to posterity the truth about my character, my life, and the education to which I am devoted, and not suffer myself to be condemned on these issues without a trial nor to remain, as I had just been, at the mercy of my habitual calumniators.

And as I kept thinking upon it, I came ever to the same conclusion, namely, that the only way in which I could accomplish this was to compose a discourse which would be, as it were, a true image of my thought and of my whole life; for I hoped that this would serve both as the best means of making known the truth about me and, at the same time, as a monument, after my death, more noble than statues of bronze.

I saw, however, that if I were to attempt a eulogy of myself, I should not be able to cover all the points which I proposed to discuss, nor should I succeed in treating them without arousing the displeasure or even the envy of my hearers. But it occurred to me that if I were to adopt the fiction of a trial and of a suit brought against me—if I were to suppose that a sycophant had brought an indictment and was threatening me with trouble and that he was using the calumnies which had been urged against me in the suit about the exchange of property, while I, for my part, cast my speech in the form of a defense in court—in this way it would be possible to discuss to the best advantage all the points which I wanted to make.

With these thoughts in mind I set myself to write this discourse—I who am no longer in the prime of youth but in my eighty-second year. Wherefore, you may well forgive me if my speech appears to be less vigorous than those which I have published in the past.

For, I assure you, it has not been an easy nor a simple task, but one of great difficulty; for while some things in my discourse are appropriate to be spoken in a court-room, others are out of place amid such controversies, being frank discussions about philosophy and expositions of its power. There is in it, also, matter which it would be well for young men to hear before they set out to gain knowledge and an education; and there is much, besides, of what I have written in the past, inserted in the present discussion, not without reason nor without fitness, but with due appropriateness to the subject in hand.

Sections 11–15

Now to view as a whole so great an extent of subject matter, to harmonize and bring together so many diverse varieties of discourse, to connect smoothly what follows with what goes before, and to make all parts consonant one with another, was by no means an easy undertaking. Yet I did not desist, in spite of my age, until I had accomplished it, such as it is. It is, at any rate, written with devotion to the truth; its other qualities I leave to the judgement of my hearers.

But I urge all who intend to acquaint themselves with my speech, first, to make allowance, as they listen to it, for the fact that it is a mixed discourse, composed with an eye to all these subjects; next, to fix their attention even more on what is about to be said than on what has been said before; and, lastly, not to seek to run through the whole of it at the first sitting, but only so much of it as will not fatigue the audience. For if you comply with this advice, you will be better able to determine whether I speak in a manner worthy of my reputation.

These, then, are the things which it was necessary for me to say by way of introduction. I beg you now to listen to my defense, which purports to have been written for a trial, but whose real purpose is to show the truth about myself, to make those who are ignorant about me know the sort of man I am and those who are afflicted with envy suffer a still more painful attack of this malady; for a greater revenge upon them than this I could not hope to obtain.

I consider that in all the world there are none so depraved and so deserving of the severest punishment as those who have the audacity to charge others with the offenses of which they themselves are guilty. And this is the very thing that Lysimachus has done. For this informer, himself delivering a composed speech, has said more in complaint of my compositions than upon all other points; it is as if one were to charge another with breaking into a temple, while showing in his own hands plunder stolen from the gods.

I would give much if he really thought that I am as “clever” as he has made me out to be to you, for then he would never have tried to trouble me. But now, although he alleges that I am able to make the weaker cause appear the stronger, he has, in fact, so low an opinion of my powers that he is confident that he with his lies will win against me and the truth.

Sections 16–20

And so maliciously has everything conspired against me, that while others may depend on their power of speech to make an end of calumnies, it is, in my case, just this power of speech which Lysimachus has most calumniated, in order that if I shall appear to speak well, I may show that I am subject to the charges which he has made about my cleverness; while if it turns out that I speak less ably than he has led you to expect, you may think that mine is the weaker cause.

I beg you, then, neither to credit nor to discredit what has been said to you until you have heard to the end what I also have to say, bearing it in mind that there would have been no need of granting to the accused the right of making a defense, had it been possible to reach a just verdict from the arguments of the accuser. At this stage of the case no one here present is in any doubt whether the accuser has spoken well or badly, but it is not yet easy for the jury to decide from what the first speaker has said whether he has based his arguments on the truth; nay, they will be fortunate if they are able to draw a just conclusion from the arguments of both sides.

I do not wonder that men spend more time in denouncing those who attempt to deceive the jury than upon their own defense, nor that they complain that calumny is our greatest bane. What, indeed, could work greater mischief? It causes liars to be looked on with respect, innocent men to be regarded as criminals, and judges to violate their oaths; in a word, it smothers truth, and pouring false ideas into our ears, it leaves no man among our citizens secure from an unjust death.

You must be on your guard against this and take care that nothing of the sort happens in this case and that you are not yourselves seen to fall into the very faults which you find reprehensible in others. I think you know well enough that time and again in the past Athens has so deeply repented the judgements which have been pronounced in passion and without proof that not long after the events she has become eager to punish her deceivers, and would gladly have seen the victims of calumny in happier circumstances than before.

You should remember this and not trust too hastily the assertions of the accuser nor hear the defendant in uproar and anger. Ours is a shameful state of inconsistency; for while it is acknowledged that in our life in general we are the most merciful and gentle of all the Hellenes, yet in the conduct of our trials here we manifestly give the lie to this reputation.

Sections 21–25

In other states, when they try a man for his life, they cast a portion of the votes for the defendant, but with us the accused has not even an equal chance with the sycophants; nay, while we take our solemn oath at the beginning of each year that we will hear impartially both accusers and accused,

we depart so far from this in practice, that when the accuser makes his charges we give ear to whatever he may say; but when the accused endeavors to refute them, we sometimes do not endure even to hear his voice. Those states in which an occasional citizen is put to death without a trial we condemn as unfit to live in, yet are blind to the fact that we are in the same case when we do not hear with equal good will both sides of the contest.

But what is most absurd of all is the fact that when one of us is on trial, he denounces the calumniators, but when he sits in judgement upon another, he is no longer of the same mind regarding them. Yet, surely, intelligent men ought to be such when they are judges of others, as they would expect others to be to them in like case, bearing in mind the fact that because of the audacity of the sycophants it is impossible to foresee what man may be placed in peril and be compelled to plead, even as I am now doing, before men who are to decide his fate by their votes.

Indeed no one may rely on the honesty of his life as a guarantee that he will be able to live securely in Athens; for the men who have chosen to neglect what is their own and to plot against what belongs to others do not keep their hands off citizens who live soberly and bring before you only those who do evil; on the contrary, they advertise their powers in their attacks upon men who are entirely innocent, and so get more money from those who are clearly guilty.

This is exactly what Lysimachus had in mind when he subjected me to this trial; for he thought that this suit against me would bring him profit from other sources, and he expected that if he won in the debate with me, whom he calls the teacher of other men, everyone would regard his power as irresistible.

Sections 26–30

He is confident that he will win easily; for he sees that you are over-ready to accept slanders and calumnies, while I, because of my age and my lack of experience in contests of this kind, shall not be able to reply to them in a manner worthy of my reputation;

for I have so lived all my life till now that no man either under the oligarchy or under the democracy has ever charged me with any offense, whether of violence or injury, nor will any man be found to have sat either as arbitrator or as judge upon my actions. For I have schooled myself to avoid giving any offense to others, and, when I have been wronged by others, not to seek revenge in court but to adjust the matter in dispute by conferring with their friends.

All this has availed me nothing; on the contrary, I who have lived to this advanced age without complaint from anyone could not be in greater jeopardy if I had wronged all the world. Yet I am not utterly discouraged because I face so great a penalty; no, if you will only hear me with good will, I am very confident that those who have been misled as to my pursuits and have been won over by my would-be slanderers will promptly change their views, while those who think of me as I really am will be still more confirmed in their opinion.

But in order that I may not overtax your patience by speaking at undue length before coming to the subject, I shall leave off this discussion and attempt forthwith to inform you on the question which you are to vote upon. Please read the indictment.

Indictment

Here in the indictment my accuser endeavors to vilify me, charging that I corrupt young men by teaching them to speak and gain their own advantage in the courts contrary to justice, while in his speech he makes me out to be a man whose equal has never been known either among those who hang about the law-courts or among the devotees of philosophy; for he declares that I have had as my pupils not only private persons but orators, generals, kings, and despots; and that I have received from them and am now receiving enormous sums of money.

Sections 31–35

He has made his accusation in this manner, thinking that his extravagant assertions about me and my wealth and the great number of my pupils would arouse the envy of all his hearers, while my alleged activities in the law-courts would stir up your anger and hate; and when judges are affected by these very passions, they are most severe upon those who are on trial. However, in the one charge he has grossly exaggerated the facts and in the other he lies outright, as I think I can easily show.

Let me ask you, however, not to pay any attention to what you have heard about me in the past from my would-be slanderers and calumniators, not to credit charges which have been made without proof or trial, and not to be influenced by the suspicions which have been maliciously implanted in you by my enemies, but to judge me to be the kind of man which the accusation and the defense in this trial will show me to be; for if you decide the case on this basis, you will have the credit of judging honorably and in accordance with the law, while I, for my part, shall obtain my complete deserts.

Now, in fact, no citizen has ever been harmed either by my “cleverness” or by my writings, and I think the most convincing proof of this is furnished by this trial; for if any man had been wronged by me, even though he might have held his tongue up till now, he would not have neglected the present opportunity, but would have come forward to denounce me or bear witness against me. For when one who has never in his life heard a single disparaging word from me has put me in so great peril, depend upon it, had any suffered injury at my hands, they would now attempt to have their revenge.

For surely it is neither probable nor possible both that I, on the one hand, have wronged many people and that those, on the other hand, who have been visited with misfortune through me are silent and refrain from accusing me; nay, are kinder to me when my life is in peril than those who have suffered no injury, especially since all they have to do is to testify to the wrongs I have done them in order to obtain the fullest reparation.

But neither in the past nor now will anyone be found to have made any such complaint. If, therefore, I were to agree with my accuser and concede his claim that I am the “cleverest” of men and that I have never had an equal as a writer of the kind of speeches which are offensive to you, it would be much more just to give me credit for being an honest man than to punish me;

Sections 36–40

for when a man has superior talents whether for speech or for action, one cannot fairly charge it to anything but fortune, but when a man makes good and temperate use of the power which nature has given him, as in my own case, all the world ought in justice to commend his character. However, though I might advance this argument in my behalf, I shall never be found to have had anything to do with speeches for the courts.

You can judge this from my habits of life, from which, indeed, you can get at the truth much better than from the lips of my accusers; for no one is, I think, blind to the fact that all people are wont to spend their time in the places where they elect to gain their livelihood.

And you will observe that those who live upon your contracts and the litigation connected with them are all but domiciled in the courts of law, while no one has ever seen me either at the council-board, or at the preliminaries, or in the courts, or before the arbitrators; on the contrary, I have kept aloof from all these more than any of my fellow-citizens.

Moreover, you will find that these men are able to carry on a profitable business in Athens alone; if they were to sail to any other place they would starve to death; while my resources, which this fellow has exaggerated, have all come to me from abroad. Then again you will find associated with them either men who are themselves in evil case or who want to ruin others, while in my company are those who of all the Hellenes lead the most untroubled lives.

But you have heard also from my accuser that I have received many great presents from Nicocles, the king of the Salaminians. And yet, can any one of you be persuaded that Nicocles made me these presents in order that he might learn how to plead cases in court—he who dispensed justice, like a master, to others in their disputes? So, from what my accuser has himself said, it is easy for you to conclude that I have nothing to do with litigation.

Sections 41–45

Nay, everyone is aware of this also, that there is a superabundance of men who produce speeches for litigants in the courts. Nevertheless you will not find that any one of them, numerous as they are, has ever been thought worthy to have pupils, while I, as my accuser states, have had more than all the rest together who are occupied with philosophy. Yet how can anyone think that people who are so far apart in their ways of life are engaged in the same occupations?

But although I could point out many contrasts between my own career and that of the pleaders in the courts, I believe that the quickest way to disabuse your mind of this confusion would be to show that people do not study under me what my accuser says they do, and that I am not clever at the kind of oratory which has to do with private disputes.

For I think, now that the charge under which I formerly labored has been disproved, you are anxious to change your attitude and want to hear from me what sort of eloquence it is which has occupied me and given me so great a reputation. Whether, indeed, it is going to profit me to speak the truth, I am not sure; for it is hard to conjecture what is in your thoughts. Yet, for all that, I am going to speak to you absolutely without reserve.

For I should blush before my associates, if, after having told them again and again that I should be glad to have everyone of my fellow-citizens know the life I lead and the speeches which I compose, I did not now lay them open before you, but appeared rather to attempt to hide them away. Be assured, therefore, that you shall hear from me the whole truth, and in this spirit give me your attention.

First of all, then, you should know that there are no fewer branches of composition in prose than in verse. For some men have devoted their lives to researches in the genealogies of the demi-gods; others have made studies in the poets; others have elected to compose histories of wars; while still others have occupied themselves with dialogue, and are called dialecticians.

Sections 46–50

It would, however, be no slight task to attempt to enumerate all the forms of prose, and I shall take up only that which is pertinent to me, and ignore the rest. For there are men who, albeit they are not strangers to the branches which I have mentioned, have chosen rather to write discourses, not for private disputes, but which deal with the world of Hellas, with affairs of state, and are appropriate to be delivered at the Pan-Hellenic assemblies—discourses which, as everyone will agree, are more akin to works composed in rhythm and set to music than to the speeches which are made in court.

For they set forth facts in a style more imaginative and more ornate; they employ thoughts which are more lofty and more original, and, besides, they use throughout figures of speech in greater number and of more striking character. All men take as much pleasure in listening to this kind of prose as in listening to poetry, and many desire to take lessons in it, believing that those who excel in this field are wiser and better and of more use to the world than men who speak well in court.

For they know that while the latter owe to a capacity for intrigue their expertness in forensic debate, the former have drawn from their pursuit of wisdom the eloquence which I have described; that while those who are thought to be adept in court procedure are tolerated only for the day when they are engaged in the trial, the devotees of philosophy are honored and held in high esteem in every society and at all times;

that, furthermore, while the former come to be despised and decried as soon as they are seen two or three times in court, the latter are admired more and more as they become better and more widely known; and, finally, that while clever pleaders are sadly unequal to the higher eloquence, the exponents of the latter could, if they so desired, easily master also the oratory of the courts.

Reflecting on these facts, and considering it to be by far the better choice, they elect to have a part in that culture wherein, it would appear, neither have I myself been an alien but have, on the contrary, won a far more gracious reputation. Now you have heard the whole truth about my power, my philosophy, my profession, or whatever you care to call it.

Sections 51–55

However, I want to set up for myself a more difficult standard than for other people, and to make a proposition which may seem over-rash for my years. For I ask you not only to show me no mercy, if the oratory which I cultivate is harmful, but to inflict on me the extreme penalty if it is not superior to any other. But I should not have made so bold a proposal, if I were not about to show you what my eloquence is and to make it very easy for you to pass judgement upon it.

For it is this way: the best and fairest defense, in my opinion, is that which enables the judges to know the facts, so far as this is possible, in regard to the issues on which they are to vote, and which leaves no room for them to go astray in their judgement or to be in doubt as to which party speaks the truth.

If, however, I were being tried for some criminal act, I should not have been able to produce the act itself before your eyes but you would have had to conjecture the facts from what I said and pass judgement as best you might. But since I am charged with offending by my words, I think that I shall be in a better position to make you see the truth;

for I shall present in evidence the actual words which I have spoken and written, so that you will vote upon my discourses, not from conjecture, but with clear knowledge of their nature. I cannot, however, present them all in complete form; for the time which has been allowed me is too short. But just as is done with fruits, I shall try to produce a sample of each kind. For when you have heard a small portion of them you will easily recognize my true character and appreciate the force of all my speeches.

But I beg those of you who have read many times what you are now about to hear, not to expect new discourses from me on the present occasion nor think me burdensome because I repeat what has long been the talk of Athens. For if I were to repeat my orations in order to display my powers, I should reasonably be liable to this complaint; but now that I am on trial and in jeopardy I have no choice but to use my speeches in this fashion.

Sections 56–60

For it would be the height of absurdity if in a case where my accuser denounces me for writing the kind of speeches which both hurt our city and corrupt our youth I used other speeches in my defense, when I can clear my name of the calumnies which are being heaped upon it by producing before you the very discourses of which he complains. I ask of you, then, for these reasons to bear with me and to lend me your support. But for the benefit of the others on the jury I shall attempt to proceed with my selections, after a further word of explanation to enable them to follow more easily what is said.

The discourse which is to be submitted to you first was written at the time when the Lacedaemonians were the first power in Hellas, while our fortunes were at low ebb. In it I summon the Hellenes to make an expedition against the barbarians, and I dispute the right of the Lacedaemonians to take the lead.

Developing this theme, I show that Athens has been author of all the advantages which the Hellenes now enjoy. Then, having concluded the account of these benefactions, and desiring to show more convincingly that leadership in the expedition is the right of Athens, I further try to prove that far greater honor is due to her for the perils she has faced in war than for her other benefactions.

Now I thought that I should be able to go through these passages myself, but I find that my age hampers me and causes me to give out easily. So then, in order that I may not break down utterly while there are still many things which I must say, let the clerk begin at the place marked and read the passage on the hegemony.

As to the hegemony, then, it is easy enough for you to make up your minds from what has been read to you that it should by right belong to Athens. But, I beg of you, consider well whether I appear to you to corrupt the young by my words, or, on the contrary, to inspire them to a life of valor and of dangers endured for their country; whether I should justly be punished for the words which have been read, or whether, on the contrary, I deserve to have your deepest gratitude

Sections 61–65

for having so glorified Athens and our ancestors and the wars which were fought in those days that the orators who had composed discourses on this theme have destroyed them all, being ashamed of their own efforts, while they who today are reputed to be clever dare no longer to speak upon this subject, but confess the feebleness of their own powers.

But yet, although these things are true, you will find among those who are unable to create or say anything of value, but are past masters in criticizing and prejudicing the works of others, some who will say that all this is spoken “prettily” (for they will be too grudging to say “well”), but that those discourses are better and more profitable which denounce our present mistakes than those which praise our past deeds, and those which counsel us what we ought to do than those which recount ancient history.

Well, then, in order that I may forestall even this objection, I shall abstain from defending the speech to which you have listened and shall attempt to bring before you a selection of equal length from another oration, in which it will be seen that I have given much attention to all these questions. At the beginning of this oration I speak on the question of making peace with the Chians, the Rhodians, and the Byzantines;

and, after I have shown that it is to the advantage of Athens to end the war, I decry our dominion over the Hellenes and our sea-power, showing that it is no whit different, either in its conduct or in its results, from tyranny. I recall also the evils which that power has brought upon Athens, upon the Lacedaemonians, and upon all the others.

After having dwelt upon this subject, deplored the misfortunes of Hellas, and urged Athens not to allow herself to remain in her present state, finally I summon her to a career of justice, I condemn the mistakes she is now making, and I counsel her as to her future policy. Now begin at the point where I start to discuss these matters and read this selection also to the jury.

Sections 66–70

You have heard parts of two discourses; I want now to run through a few topics from a third, in order that it may become even more evident to you that all my writings tend toward virtue and justice. The one which is about to be produced before you is addressed to Nicocles of Cyprus, who at that time was king, and is made up of advice to him as to how to rule over his people. It is not, however, composed in the same style as the extracts which have been read.

For in them each part is always in accord and in logical connection with that which goes before; but in this, on the contrary, I detach one part from another, and breaking up the discourse, as it were, into what we call general heads, I strive to express in a few words each bit of counsel which I have to offer.

But my reason for writing upon this subject was that I thought my advice would be the best means of aiding his understanding and at the same time the readiest means of publishing my own principles. It was with the same motive that I decided to present this discourse to you on the present occasion, not that it is the best written of my works, but that through it you will best see in what spirit I am wont to deal with princes as well as with private men;

for you will see that I have expressed myself to Nicocles as a free man and an Athenian should, not paying court to his wealth nor to his power, but pleading the cause of his subjects, and striving with all my powers to secure for them the mildest government possible. And since in addressing a king I have spoken for his subjects, surely I would urge upon men who live under a democracy to pay court to the people.

Sections 71–75

Now in the introduction and in the opening words of that discourse I reproach monarchs because they who more than others ought to cultivate their understanding are less educated than men in private station. After discussing this point, I enjoin upon Nicocles not to be easy-going and not to feel that he had taken up the royal office as one takes up the office of a priest, but to put aside his selfish pleasures and give his mind to his affairs.

And I try to persuade him also that it ought to be revolting to his mind to see the base ruling over the good and the foolish giving orders to the wise, saying to him that the more vigorously he condemns folly in other men, the more should he cultivate his own understanding. Now then, begin where I have left off and read to the jury the rest of the discourse.

Now this is the last selection which I shall have the clerk read to you—and the last of such length which I shall use; since I am not going to refrain from quoting, at any rate briefly, from my earlier writings, but shall use whatever I may think appropriate to the present occasion. For it would be absurd, when I see other men making use of my words, if I alone should refrain from using what I have written in former days, especially now when I have chosen to repeat to you not merely small parts but whole divisions of my speeches. I shall, therefore, act in this matter as occasion may suggest.

I said, I think, before these selections were read, that I asked not only to be adjudged guilty if my discourses are harmful but to be visited with the heaviest of punishments if they are not incomparable. If any of you then felt that my words were boastful and over-confident, they cannot longer justly be of this opinion; for I think that I have made good my promise and that the discourses which have been read to you are such as from the first I maintained that they were.

Sections 76–80

But I want to say just a word in behalf of each of them and so make it still more manifest that what I then said and what I now say about them is true. First of all, tell me what eloquence could be more righteous or more just than one which praises our ancestors in a manner worthy of their excellence and of their achievements?

Again, what could be more patriotic or more serviceable to Athens than one which shows that by virtue both of our other benefactions and of our exploits in war we have greater claims to the hegemony than the Lacedaemonians? And, finally, what discourse could have a nobler or a greater theme than one which summons the Hellenes to make an expedition against the barbarians and counsels them to be of one mind among themselves?

Well, then, in the first speech I have discoursed upon these themes, and in those later quoted upon matters which, though less lofty, are by no means less fruitful or less advantageous to our city. And you will appreciate the power of these discourses if you will read them side by side with others written by orators of recognized ability and service to mankind.

Now everyone would admit, I think, that our laws have been the source of very many and very great benefits to the life of humanity. But our enjoyment of these laws is a boon which, in the very nature of the case, is limited to the affairs of our state and to the engagements which you enter into with each other; whereas, if you would heed my words, you might direct the whole of Hellas with honor and justice and, at the same time, with advantage to Athens.

Men of wisdom ought to concern themselves both for the interests of our city and for the interests of Hellas, but should give preference to the broader and worthier cause; and they ought, furthermore, to appreciate the fact that while any number of men both among the Hellenes and among the barbarians have been able to lay down laws, there are not many who can discourse upon questions of public welfare in a spirit worthy both of Athens and of Hellas.

Sections 81–85

For these reasons, men who make it their duty to invent discourses of that kind should be held in higher esteem than those who propose and write down laws, inasmuch as they are rarer, have the more difficult task, and must have superior qualities of mind. Especially is this true in our day;

for, at the time when the human race was beginning to come into existence and to settle together in cities, it was natural that their searching should have been for much the same thing; but today, on the other hand, when we have advanced to the point where the discourses which have been spoken and the laws which have been laid down are innumerable, and where we single out the oldest among laws and the newest among discourses for our praise, these tasks no longer call for the same understanding;

nay, those who have elected to make laws have had at their service a multitude of laws already made (for they have no need to search for new laws, but only to put forth the effort to collect those which are approved in other states, which anyone who so desires can easily do), while those who occupy themselves with oratory, seeing that most subjects have been seized upon and used by others before them, are in the opposite case; for if they repeat the same things which have been said in the past, they will be regarded as shameless babblers, and if they seek for what is new, they will have great difficulty in finding it. That is why I stated that, while both are entitled to your praise, they are the more entitled to it who are able to execute the harder task.

I maintain also that if you compare me with those who profess to turn men to a life of temperance and justice, you will find that my teaching is more true and more profitable than theirs. For they exhort their followers to a kind of virtue and wisdom which is ignored by the rest of the world and is disputed among themselves; I, to a kind which is recognized by all.

They, again, are satisfied if through the prestige of their names they can draw a number of pupils into their society; I, you will find, have never invited any person to follow me, but endeavor to persuade the whole state to pursue a policy from which the Athenians will become prosperous themselves, and at the same time deliver the rest of the Hellenes from their present ills.

Sections 86–90

And yet, when anyone devotes his life to urging all his fellow-countrymen to be nobler and juster leaders of the Hellenes, how is it conceivable that such a man should corrupt his followers? What man possessed of the power to discover discourses of this character would try to search for those that are pernicious and have to do with pernicious things, especially a man who has reaped from his works the rewards which I have had?

For the writing and publication of them has won me distinction in many parts of the world and brought me many disciples, no one of whom would have remained with me had they not found in me the very kind of man they expected to find. In fact, although I have had so many pupils, and they have studied with me in some cases three, and in some cases four years, yet not one of them will be found to have uttered a word of complaint about his sojourn with me;

on the contrary, when at the last the time would come for them to sail away to their parents or their friends at home, so happy did they feel in their life with me, that they would always take their leave with regret and tears. Well, then, whom ought you to believe? Those who know intimately both my words and my character, or a sycophant who knows nothing about me at all, but has chosen to make me his victim? Ought you to believe a man who is so unscrupulous and so brazen that,

having indicted me for teaching the kind of eloquence which enables people to gain their own advantage contrary to justice, he has not brought before you the slightest evidence of this but has dwelt from the beginning to the end of his speech on the iniquity of corrupting our youth—as if anyone disputed that, or as if it were necessary for him to prove what all men concede, instead of showing simply that I have been guilty of this offense?

Why, if anyone were to bring this fellow to trial for kidnapping or stealing or highway robbery, and, instead of proving that he had done any of these things, were to hold forth on the iniquity of each of these crimes, my opponent would reply that his accuser was mad and talked like a fool; yet he has, himself, used just such arguments and thinks that you do not see through him.

Sections 91–95

I, however, believe that even the most simple-minded of people recognize that an accusation, to be convincing and to carry great weight, must not be one which may be employed equally well against the innocent, but one which can be applied only to the guilty. My accuser has made light of this fact, and has made a speech which is in no respect pertinent to the indictment.

For he ought both to have produced before you the speeches by which I corrupt my associates and to have named to you the pupils who have been debased by association with me. However, he has done neither of these things, but has rejected the most legitimate form of accusation and attempted to lead you astray. I, on the contrary, shall base my defense only on grounds which are pertinent and just.

I had my speeches read to you a moment ago; I shall now bring before you the men who have been associated with me from the time of my youth to the days of my old age, and from your own number I shall present men of my own years to bear witness to the truth of what I say. Among the first to begin studying with me were Eunomus, Lysitheides, and Callippus; and following them were Onetor, Anticles, Philonides, Philomelus, and Charmantides.

All these men were crowned by Athens with chaplets of gold, not because they were covetous of other people’s possessions, but because they were honorable men and had spent large sums of their private fortunes upon the city. Suppose whatever you like as to the nature of my relations with them;

for the result, at any rate so far as the present issue is concerned, will be altogether to my advantage. For if you suppose that I was their counsellor and teacher, I should deserve from you greater gratitude than those who are maintained in the Prytaneum in recognition of excellence; for each of the latter has furnished to the city his own high qualities alone, whereas I have furnished those of all whom I have just now named to you.

Sections 96–100

But if, on the other hand, you suppose that I, myself, had nothing to do with their achievements, but that I merely enjoyed their society and friendship, I consider that even this view is defense enough against the charges on which I am being tried. For if I have had the affection of men who have received rewards in recognition of excellence, but have nothing in common with the sycophant, then how, in all reason, could you judge me to be a corrupter of youth?

Verily, I should be the most unfortunate of all men if, when others are esteemed better or worse, as the case may be, from the manner of their lives and from the character of their associates, I alone should be denied this basis of judgement; and if I, who have lived all my life in company with such men, and have kept myself above all criticism up to this point in my career, should be classed with those who from the manner of their lives and the character of their associates have got themselves a bad name. I should like to know what in the world my fate would have been if I had numbered among my associates anyone like my accuser, when, although I hate all his kind and am hated by them, I am yet subjected to this trial.

Nor, I assure you, can my case be justly injured by the argument which certain of those who are entirely hostile to me may, perhaps, dare to put forth, namely, that I have associated with the men I have mentioned merely to the extent of having been seen conversing with them, whereas I have had as my disciples many of another sort, mischievous characters, whom I am trying to conceal from you. For I have ready at hand a reply which will refute and confound all calumnies of that sort.

For I ask this of you: If any of those who have been associated with me have turned out to be good men in their relations to the state, to their friends, and to their own households—I ask you to give them the praise and not to be grateful to me on their account; but if, on the other hand, any of them have turned out to be bad—the kind of men who lay information, hale people into court, and covet the property of others—then to let the penalty be visited on me.

What proposition could be less invidious or more fair than one which claims no credit for those who are honorable, but offers to submit to punishment for any who have become depraved? And these are no idle words; on the contrary, if anyone can name anyone of that kind to you, I yield the floor for this purpose to my accuser or to anyone else who may desire it—not that there are not persons who would gladly perjure themselves to my harm, but that they would be shown up to you at once, and the injury would fall upon them, not upon me . . .

Sections 101–105

Well, then, I do not see how I could show more clearly that the charges filed against me are false and that I am not guilty of corrupting my associates. My accuser has mentioned also the friendship which existed between me and Timotheus, and has attempted to calumniate us both, nor did any sense of shame restrain him from saying slanderous and utterly infamous things about a man who is dead, to whom Athens is indebted for many services.

But I, for my part, should have thought that even if I were proved guilty beyond a doubt, yet because of my friendship with him I should be entitled to go free. But since Lysimachus is attempting to hurt me by the very means which ought to help my case, I am compelled to go into this question. I must explain that I did not mention Timotheus when I named my other associates because he was in very different case from them.

For, in the first place, my accuser has not dared to say anything derogatory of my other friends, while he has laid greater stress upon his arraignment of Timotheus than upon the charges which he has preferred in his indictment. In the next place, my other friends were entrusted with only a few commissions, although in every case they discharged the duties assigned to them in such a manner that they won the honor which I mentioned a moment ago, while Timotheus had the responsibility of many affairs of great importance and over a long period of time. It would not, therefore, have been fitting to discuss him and the others in one group, but it was necessary to separate and segregate them as I have done.

You must not think, however, that what I say in behalf of Timotheus is irrelevant to the present case, nor that I am straying beyond the limits of the indictment; for while it is proper for the layman to say what he has to say in defense of his own actions and then take his seat or else to be thought to overdo his case, yet when anyone occupies a position in the eyes of the public as a counsellor and teacher, he must then justify his followers as well as himself, especially if he is being tried on this charge—which is exactly the position in which I have been placed.

Now any other man might be satisfied to say that it is not fair that he should share the blame for any mistakes which Timotheus may have made, on the ground that he was given no share in the rewards or the honors which were voted to Timotheus, nor was he even thought worthy by any orator of being commended as an adviser of the latter, and that it is only fair that one should either share the good fortunes of another, or have no part in his misfortunes.

Sections 106–110

I, however, should be ashamed to make this plea, and I make you the same proposition regarding Timotheus as I made regarding my other associates. For I ask that if it turns out that Timotheus was a bad man and committed many wrongs against you—I ask to be allowed to share the blame, to pay the penalty, and to suffer whatever is meted out to the guilty; but if, on the other hand, it is shown that he was both a good citizen and a greater general than any other within our knowledge, then I hold that you should praise him and be grateful to him, while as to this indictment against me, you should pass whatever judgement you may deem fair in the light of what I, myself, have done.

The facts, then, about Timotheus I can put most concisely and in the most comprehensive terms by saying that he has taken more cities by storm than any other man has ever done, and I include all generals who have led armies into the field whether from Athens or from the rest of Hellas. And among these cities were some whose capture compelled all the surrounding territory to make terms with Athens; so great was their importance in each case.

For who does not know that Corcyra has the best strategic position among the cities in the neighborhood of the Peloponnese; Samos, among the cities of Ionia; Sestos and Crithôte, among those in the Hellespont; and Potidaea and Torône among the settlements in Thrace? All these cities he has taken and presented to you, with no great outlay of money, without imposing burdens upon your present allies, and without forcing you to pay many taxes into the treasury.

Indeed, for the voyage of the fleet around the Peloponnese, Athens allowed him only thirteen talents and fifty triremes, and yet he captured Corcyra, a city with a fleet of eighty triremes, and about the same time he won a naval battle over the Lacedaemonians and forced them to agree to the terms of the present peace—a peace which has so changed the relative positions of Athens and of Lacedaemon

that from that day to this we celebrate the peace with sacrifices every year because no other treaty has been so advantageous to our city; while, as for the Lacedaemonians, no man since that time has seen a ship of theirs voyage this side of Malea nor any land force advance beyond the Isthmus, and anyone can see in this fact the cause of their disaster at Leuctra.

Sections 111–115

After these exploits he led an expedition against Samos; and that city which Pericles, renowned above all others for his wisdom, his justice, and his moderation, reduced with a fleet of two hundred ships and the expenditure of a thousand talents, Timotheus, without receiving from you or collecting from your allies any money whatsoever, captured after a siege of ten months with a force of eight thousand light-armed troops and thirty triremes, and he paid all these forces from the spoils of war.

And if you can point to any other man who has done a like thing, I stand ready to admit my folly in attempting to praise superlatively one who has done no more than others. Well, then, from Samos he sailed away and captured Sestos and Crithôte, forcing you, who up to that time had been careless of your interests in the Chersonese, to give your attention to that territory.

And finally he took Potidaea, upon which Athens had in times past squandered twenty-four hundred talents, and he met the expense from money which he himself provided and from contributions of the Thracians; and, for full measure, he reduced all the Chalcideans to subjection. To speak, not in detail, but in summary, he made you masters of twenty-four cities and spent in doing so less than your fathers paid out in the siege of Melos.

I could wish that just as it has been quite easy to recount his exploits, so it were possible to picture briefly the circumstances under which each of them was accomplished—what the situation was in Athens in each case and what the strength of our foes—, for you would then have been made to appreciate much more highly the worth of his achievements and of the man himself. As it is, the subject is so large that I must leave it untouched.

But I think you would like to have me explain to you why in the world it is that some of the generals who have a high reputation among you and are thought to be great fighters have not been able to take even a village, while Timotheus, who lacks a robust physique and has not knocked about with itinerant armies but has shared with you the duties of a citizen, has accomplished such great things. What I have to say on this question will no doubt be offensive, but it will not be without profit for you to hear it.

Sections 116–120

Timotheus was superior to all the rest in that he did not hold the same views as you with regard to the affairs of the Hellenes and of your allies and the manner in which they should be directed. For you elect as your generals men who have the most robust bodies and who have served in many campaigns with foreign armies, thinking that under their leadership you will have some success. Timotheus, on the other hand, used these men as captains and division-commanders,

while he, himself, showed his ability in the very things which it is necessary for a good general to know. What, then, are the requisites of a good general and what ability do they involve? For they cannot be summed up in a word, but must be explained clearly. First of all is the ability to know against whom and with whose help to make war; for this is the first requisite of good strategy, and if one makes any mistake about this, the result is inevitably a war which is disadvantageous, difficult, and to no purpose.

Well, in this kind of sagacity there has never been anyone like him or even comparable with him, as may easily be seen from his deeds themselves. For, although he undertook most of his wars without support from the city, he brought them all to a successful issue, and convinced all the Hellenes that he won them justly. And what greater or clearer proof of his wise judgement could one adduce than this fact?

What, then, is the second requisite of a good general? It is the ability to collect an army which is adequate to the war in hand, and to organize and to employ it to good advantage. Now, that Timotheus understood how to employ his forces to good purpose, his achievements themselves have shown; that in the ability to recruit armies which were splendidly equipped and reflected honor upon Athens he excelled all other men, no one even of his enemies would dare to gainsay;

and, furthermore, in the power both to bear the privations and hardships of army life, and again to find abundant resources, who of the men who were with him in the field would not pronounce him incomparable? For they know that at the beginning of his campaigns, owing to the fact that he received nothing from Athens, he found himself in great extremities, but that, even with this handicap, he was able to bring his fortunes round to the point where he not only prevailed over our enemies but paid his soldiers in full.

Sections 121–125

These are great things and compel our admiration; but the facts which I now give entitle him to even greater praise. For although he saw that you respected only the kind of generals who threatened and tried to terrify the other cities and were always for setting up some revolution or other among your allies, he did not fall in with your prejudices, nor was he willing to enhance his own reputation to the injury of Athens; on the contrary, he made it the object of his thought and of his actions to see to it that no one of the cities of Hellas should be afraid of him, but that all should feel secure excepting those which did wrong;

for he realized that men who are afraid hate those who inspire this feeling in them, and that it was due to the friendship of the other cities that Athens rose to great power and prosperity, just as it was due to their hatred that she barely escaped the most disastrous fate. Bearing in mind these facts, he used the power of Athens in order to subdue her enemies, and the force of his own character in order to win the good will of the rest of the world, believing that this is a greater and nobler kind of generalship than to conquer many cities many times in battle.

So concerned was he that none of the cities should in the slightest degree suspect him of sinister designs that whenever he intended to take his fleet to any of the cities which had been remiss in their contributions, he sent word to the authorities and announced his coming beforehand, lest his appearance without warning in front of their ports might plunge them into disquiet and confusion;

and if he happened to harbor his fleet in any place, he would never permit his soldiers to plunder and pillage and sack the people’s houses, but took as great precautions to prevent such an occurrence as the owners would take to guard their own possessions; for his mind was not upon winning for himself the good opinion of his soldiers by such license, but upon winning for Athens the good opinion of the Hellenes.

Moreover, when cities had been taken by him in battle, he would treat them with a mildness and a consideration for their rights which no one else has ever shown to allies in war; for he thought that if he showed such an attitude toward those who had made war upon him, he could give no greater guarantee that he would never bring himself to wrong the others.

Sections 126–130

Therefore it was that, because of the reputation which this conduct gave him, many of the cities which had no love for Athens used to welcome him with gates thrown wide; and he, in turn, never set up any disturbance in them, but just as he found them governed when he entered their gates, so he left them when he passed out.

And now to sum up all this: In other times many calamities were wont to be visited upon the Hellenes, but, under his leadership, no one can point to cities devastated, governments overthrown, men murdered or driven into exile, or any other of those ills that are irreparable. Nay, so complete was the respite from such misfortunes in his day that, so far back as we can remember, he is the only general under whom no complaint was raised against Athens by the other Hellenes.

And surely you ought to find your ideal of a good general, not in one who by a single stroke of good fortune has attained, like Lysander, a success which it has been the lot of no other man to achieve, but one who, though loaded with many difficult responsibilities of all sorts, has always discharged them with honesty and wisdom. And just this has been the fortune of Timotheus.

Most of you are, I suppose, astonished at what I am saying, and think that in praising him I am condemning Athens, since he, after having captured so many cities and having never lost a single one, was tried for treason, and again when he submitted his reports, and Iphicrates took upon himself the responsibility for the conduct of the campaign and Menestheus accounted for the moneys expended upon it, they, on the one hand, were acquitted, while Timotheus was fined a larger sum than anyone in the past had ever been condemned to pay.

The fact is, however, that I desire to stand up for Athens also. It is true that if you consider the actions of the city by the standard of pure justice, no one of you can avoid the conclusion that her treatment of Timotheus was cruel and abominable; but if you make allowance for the ignorance which possesses all mankind, for the feelings of envy that are aroused in us, and, furthermore, for the confusion and turmoil in which we live, you will find that nothing of what has been done has come about without a reason nor does the cause lie outside our human weakness, but that Timotheus, also, has been responsible in some degree for the mistaken judgements passed upon him.

Sections 131–135

For while he was no anti-democrat nor a misanthrope, nor arrogant, nor possessed of any such defect of character, yet because of his proud bearing—an advantage to the office of a general but out of place in dealing with men from day to day—everyone attributed to him the faults which I have named; for he was by nature as inept in courting the favor of men as he was gifted in handling affairs.

Indeed he has often been advised by me, among others, that while men who are in public life and desire to be in favor must adopt the principle of doing what is most serviceable and noble and of saying what is most true and just, yet they must at the same time not neglect to study and consider well how in everything they say and do they may convince the people of their graciousness and human sympathy; since those who are careless of these matters are thought by their fellow-citizens to be disagreeable and offensive.

“You observe,” I would say to him, “the nature of the multitude, how susceptible they are to flattery; that they like those who cultivate their favor better than those who seek their good; and that they prefer those who cheat them with beaming smiles and brotherly love to those who serve them with dignity and reserve. You have paid no attention to these things, but are of the opinion that if you attend honestly to your enterprises abroad, the people at home also will think well of you.

But this is not the case, and the very contrary is wont to happen. For if you please the people in Athens, no matter what you do they will not judge your conduct by the facts but will construe it in a light favorable to you; and if you make mistakes, they will overlook them, while if you succeed, they will exalt your success to the high heaven. For good will has this effect upon all men.

“But you, while seeking by every means in your power to win for Athens the good will of the rest of the Hellenes, because you recognize its great advantages, nevertheless do not consider that there is any need to secure for yourself the good will of Athens; nay, you who have benefited the city in ways beyond calculation are less esteemed than those who have done nothing of note.

Sections 136–140

“And you could expect nothing else; for such men cultivate the public orators and the speakers who are effective in private gatherings and who profess to be authorities on every subject, while you not only neglect to do this, but actually make an open breach between yourself and the orators who are from time to time the most influential. “And yet I wonder if you realize how many men have either come to grief or failed of honor because of the misrepresentations of these orators; how many in the generations that are past have left no name, although they were far better and worthier men than those who are celebrated in song and on the tragic stage.

But the latter, you see, found their poets and historians, while the others secured no one to hymn their praises. Therefore, if you will only heed me and be sensible, you will not despise these men whom the multitude are wont to believe, not only with reference to each one of their fellow-citizens, but also with reference to the affairs of the whole state, but you will in some measure show attention and pay court to them in order that you may be held in honor both because of your own deeds and because of their words.”

When I would speak to him in this wise, he would admit that I was right, but he could not change his nature. He was a good man and true, a credit to Athens and to Hellas, but he could not lower himself to the level of people who are intolerant of their natural superiors. So it was that the orators occupied themselves with inventing many false charges against him, and the multitude with drinking them in.

I should be glad to refute these slanders, if the occasion permitted me to do so; for I believe that if you could hear me, you would come to loathe the men who have stirred the city to anger against Timotheus and the men who dare to speak evil of him. Now, however, I shall leave this subject and take up again my own defense and the case before us.

But I am at a loss to know how to proceed with the rest of my speech—what topic to take up first and what next; for the power to speak in any set order has escaped me. Perhaps, therefore, I have no choice but to discuss each point as it happens to occur to me. Accordingly, I am going to lay bare to you the thoughts which have now come into my mind. I have been thinking all along that I ought to put them before you, but I have been advised against doing so.

Sections 141–145

For when I was indicted, I pondered these very matters, as any one of you would have done, and I reviewed my life and my actions, dwelling longest on the things for which I thought I deserved approbation. But one of my associates, hearing me, made bold to urge an objection which was amazing in the extreme; he stated that while my life as I described it was worthy of emulation, yet he himself greatly feared that my story would irritate many of my hearers.

“Some men,” he said, “have been so brutalized by envy and want and are so hostile that they wage war, not on depravity, but on prosperity; they hate not only the best men but the noblest pursuits; and, in addition to their other faults, they take sides with wrong-doers and are in sympathy with them, while they destroy, whenever they have the power, those whom they have cause to envy.

They do these things, not because they are ignorant of the issues on which they are to vote, but because they intend to inflict injury and do not expect to be found out; and so, by protecting those of their own kind, they think they are providing for their own safety. “I have told you this in order that, being forewarned, you may be able to handle your case to better advantage and to use less dangerous arguments before the jury. For as things are, what judgement can you expect such men to reach when you tell them of your life and your conduct, which are not in the least degree like their own, but such as you are attempting to describe to me?

For you show that the speeches which you have written merit, not blame, but the highest favor; that the men who have been under your instruction have in no case been guilty of wrong-doing or of crime, while some of them have been crowned by the city in recognition of their worth; that from day to day you, yourself, have lived so uprightly and lawfully that I know not who of your fellow-citizens can compare with you; and that, furthermore, you have never brought anyone to trial nor stood trial yourself save in the matter of an exchange of property, nor have you appeared as counsel or as witness for others, nor have you engaged in any other of the activities which make up the civic life of all Athenians.

And to these peculiarities and idiosyncrasies you add another, namely, that you have held aloof from the public offices and the emoluments which go with them, and from all other privileges of the commonwealth as well, while you have enrolled not only yourself but your son among the twelve hundred who pay the war-taxes and bear the liturgies, and you and he have three times discharged the trierarchy, besides having performed the other services more generously and handsomely than the laws require.

Sections 146–150

“When you say these things to men whose conduct is the opposite of all which has been said, do you not suppose that they will take offense and think that you are showing up the unworthiness of their own lives? For possibly if they had seen that it is through hard work and sacrifice that you provide yourself with the means wherewith to discharge your public duties and to maintain your affairs in general, they would not have felt the same about it.

But in fact they think that these fees which come to you from your foreign pupils are much greater than they actually are, and they consider that you live in greater ease and comfort than not only the people in general but also than those who cultivate philosophy and are of the same profession as yourself. “For they see most of the sophists, excepting those who have embraced your life and ways, showing off their oratory in the public assemblies or in private gatherings, contesting against each other, making extravagant professions, disputing, reviling each other, omitting nothing in the language of abuse,

but in effect damaging their own cause and giving license to their auditors, now to ridicule what they say, sometimes to praise them, most often to despise them, and again to think of them whatever they like. But in you they see a man who has no part in these things, who lives in a manner different from the sophists as well as from laymen, and from those who enjoy many possessions as well as from those who live in want.

It is true that reasonable and intelligent people might perhaps congratulate you on these grounds, but people who are less fortunate and are wont to be more chagrined at the honest prosperity of others than at their own ill fortune cannot fail to be surly and resentful. Knowing, then, that such will be the attitude of your audience, consider well what you had better say and what you had better leave unsaid.”

But I thought as he said these things and I think now that they would be of all men the strangest and most perverse who could take offense at being told that I hold myself at the service of Athens in discharging the liturgies and performing any public duty she enjoins, and yet do not ask to have any part in the allotment of the offices nor in the distribution of the gifts she doles out to others, nor in the privilege of prosecuting or defending cases in the courts.

Sections 151–155

For I have prescribed this course for myself, not because I am rich or have any false pride, nor because I look down on those who do not live in the same way as I do, but because I love peace and tranquillity, and most of all because I see that men who so live are looked up to both in Athens and in other parts of the world. Moreover, I consider that this kind of life is more agreeable than that of men who are busy with a multitude of things, and that it is, besides, more in keeping with the career to which I have dedicated myself from the first.

It was for these reasons that I chose this manner of life. And if I have refrained from accepting the bounties which are distributed by the city it was because I thought it outrageous if I, who am able to maintain myself from my private resources, should stand in the way of any of those who have been compelled to get their livelihood from the city, and if because of my presence anyone should be deprived of the necessities of existence. Now for this I deserved praise rather than prejudice.

But as things are I am utterly at a loss to know what I could do to satisfy men of this stamp. For if I have made it my object all my life not to injure or burden or offend any man, and if by this very course I offend certain people, what could I do to please them? Or what conclusion is left to me other than that I seem to be unfortunate, and that these people appear to be boorish and churlish toward their fellow-citizens?

It is, therefore, utter folly to seek to justify myself to those who are not minded like other men but are harder on the innocent than on the guilty; for it is obvious that the more honest a man shows himself to be, the more hopeless will he make his case in their eyes. But to the others I must address myself in reply to the false charge of Lysimachus that I am possessed of enormous wealth, lest this statement, if credited, impose upon me greater public burdens than I could bear.

Now, generally speaking, you will find that no one of the so-called sophists has accumulated a great amount of money, but that some of them have lived in poor, others in moderate circumstances. The man who in our recollection laid up the most was Gorgias of Leontini. He spent his time in Thessaly when the Thessalians were the most prosperous people in Hellas; he lived a long life and devoted himself to the making of money;

Sections 156–160

he had no fixed domicile in any city and therefore paid out nothing for public weal nor was he subject to any tax; moreover, he did not marry and beget children, but was free from this, the most unremitting and expensive of burdens; and yet, although he had so great an advantage toward laying up more wealth than any other man, he left at his death only a thousand staters.

And surely on the subject of each other’s incomes we must not credit people who make charges at haphazard nor think that the earnings of the sophists are equal to those of the actors, but should judge men of the same profession in reference to each other and go on the principle that those of the same order of talent in each profession have incomes which are comparable.

If, then, you will class me with the sophist who has made more money than any other, and will compare me with him, you will not seem to engage in utterly blind conjectures on such matters, nor shall I be found to have managed badly in providing either for the public welfare or for my own, although, as a matter of fact, I have lived on less than I have expended on my public duties. And surely it is deserving of praise when a man is more frugal in what he spends on his own household than in what he pays out for the common weal.

It occurs to me as I am speaking what a change has come over Athens; people nowadays do not look at things in the same way as those who lived in the city in former times. For, when I was a boy, wealth was regarded as a thing so secure as well as admirable that almost every one affected to own more property than he actually possessed, because he wanted to enjoy the standing which it gave.

Now, on the other hand, a man has to be ready to defend himself against being rich as if it were the worst of crimes, and to keep on the alert if he is to avoid disaster; for it has become far more dangerous to be suspected of being well off than to be detected in crime; for criminals are pardoned or let off with slight penalties, while the rich are ruined utterly, and it will be found that the number of men who have been spoiled of their property is greater than those who have been punished for their misdeeds.

Sections 161–165

But why speak of public affairs? For I have myself, in my own affairs, suffered not a little from this change. For when I was beginning to repair my own fortunes after I had lost in the Peloponnesian War the patrimony which remained to me from what my father had spent partly in rendering himself serviceable to the state and partly in educating me with such care that I was more conspicuous then and more distinguished among the youth of my own age and among my fellow-students than I am now among my fellow-citizens—

when, as I have said, I began to attach pupils to myself, I thought that if I could acquire a greater competence and attain a higher position than others who had started in the same profession, I should be acclaimed both for the superiority of my teaching and for the excellence of my conduct.

But the result has been the very opposite; for if I had turned out to be worthless and had excelled in nothing, no one would have made trouble for me; nay, I might have been a flagrant offender and yet lived secure—from the sycophants, at any rate. But now, instead of the acclaim which I expected, I have been rewarded with trials and perils and envy and calumny.

For so much does the Athens of this day rejoice in repressing and humiliating honest men, while giving license to the depraved to say and do what they please, that Lysimachus, a man who has elected to live by practicing intrigue and by preying from day to day on his fellow-citizens, is here in court denouncing me; while I, who have never in my life injured any man, who have kept my hands clean from such spoils, and have provided my advantages from foreigners who feel that I have served them well, am charged with grave offenses and placed in very great peril by this trial.

And yet all sensible men would do well to pray the gods to endow as many of our people as possible with the power of getting means from abroad in order to make themselves serviceable to the city, even as I have done. But, though there are many anomalies in my situation, it would be the crowning absurdity of all if, when the men who have paid me money are so grateful to me that they are still even now devoted to me,

Sections 166–170

you on whom I have spent my means should desire to penalize me. It would be even more absurd if, whereas Pindar, the poet, was so highly honored by our forefathers because of a single line of his in which he praises Athens as “the bulwark of Hellas” that he was made ”proxenos“ and given a present of ten thousand drachmas, I, on the other hand, who have glorified Athens and our ancestors with much ampler and nobler encomiums, should not even be privileged to end my days in peace.

With regard, then, to this as well as to the other charges of my accuser, I consider that the defense which I have made is a sufficient answer. Nevertheless, I am not going to hesitate to confide in you the truth as to how I now feel about the pending trial and how I felt about it at the first. I was very confident that for myself personally I could make out a good case;

for I relied upon the character of my life and conduct, and believed that I had no lack of arguments to justify them. But as I observed not only the intolerant feeling toward the teaching of eloquence on the part of those who are churlish toward everyone, but the truculent attitude towards it on the part of my fellow-citizens in general, I began to be afraid that the truth regarding me personally might be overlooked and that I might suffer some harm from the common prejudice against the sophists.

But as time went on, and I fell to thinking what I should do in the present circumstances, I ceased being fearful and disturbed on this account, not without good reason, but after having weighed the probabilities and reassured myself.

For I knew that the honest men among you—and it is to those that I shall address myself—do not remain fixed in opinions which they have formed unjustly, but are in quest of the truth and are ready to be convinced by those who plead a just cause; and I believed that I should have abundant grounds to show that philosophy has been unjustly slandered, and that it deserves much more to be held in favor than in contempt; and I am still of the same opinion.

Sections 171–175

However, it is not surprising that liberal pursuits have sometimes failed of recognition and regard, nor that some people have been utterly misled about them. In fact we find that this happens in regard to ourselves as well as to other things without number. For our city, which is now and has been in the past the author of so many blessings both to our own people and to the other Hellenes, and which abounds in so many charms, has, nevertheless, a most serious drawback.

For Athens is so large and the multitude of people living here is so great, that the city does not present to the mind an image easily grasped or sharply defined, but, like a turbid flood, whatever it catches up in its course, whether men or things, in each case it sweeps them along pell-mell, and in some cases it imbues them with a reputation which is the opposite of the true; and exactly that has been the fortune of this system of education.

You must bear these things in mind, and not pass judgement in any trial without the exercise of reason, nor be as careless when you sit in judgement as you are in your private occupations, but must examine thoroughly each point and search for the truth, mindful of your oaths and of the laws under which you have come together to dispense justice. It is no minor question which is under discussion and on trial here, but the most important in the world. For you are to determine by your votes, not my fate only, but that of a way of life to which many of our youths are devoting their minds.

I suppose that you are not unaware of the fact that the government of the state is handed on by the older men to the youth of the coming generation; and that since the succession goes on without end, it follows of necessity that as is the education of our youth so from generation to generation will be the fortune of the state. Therefore, you must not let the sycophants have control of a thing so momentous, nor punish those who refuse to pay them money, while permitting those from whom they have received it to do whatever they please.

But if philosophy has an influence which tends to corrupt our youth, you ought not merely to punish the occasional offender whom some sycophant hales into court but to banish all who are engaged in teaching it. If, however, it has the opposite effect and helps and improves and makes better men of its devotees, then you should call a halt on those who load this study with abuse; you should strip the sycophants of their rewards, and counsel our young men to occupy themselves with this pursuit above all others.

Sections 176–180

I would have given a good deal, assuming that I was doomed by fate to defend myself against this charge, if I could have faced this trial in the fullness of my vigor; for in that case I should have felt no misgiving but should have been better able both to protect myself from my accuser and to champion the cause of liberal education. Now, however, I am afraid that, although I have been enabled by this education to speak well enough on other themes, I may find that I have discoursed less ably upon this subject than upon matters which should have concerned me less.

And yet I would rather lay down my life this day—for you shall have the truth even though the words be inept—after having spoken adequately upon this theme and persuaded you to look upon the study of eloquence in its true light, than live many times my allotted span and see it continue to fare among you as it now does.

My aspiration, then, is much greater than my power to do the subject justice; but yet I shall try as best I can to explain what is the nature of this education, what is its power, what of the other arts it is akin to, what benefit it is to its devotees, and what claims I make for it. For I think that when you know the truth about this you will be in a better position to deliberate and pronounce judgement upon it.

But I beg of you, if I appear to carry on the discussion in a manner far removed from that which is customary here, not to be impatient but to bear with me, remembering that when a man is defending himself on a charge unlike any other, he must resort to a kind of pleading which is out of the ordinary. Be patient, therefore, with the manner of my discourse and with my frankness of speech; permit me to use up the time allotted to my defense; and then cast your ballots as each of you thinks is right and in accordance with the law.

In my treatment of the art of discourse, I desire, like the genealogists, to start at the beginning. It is acknowledged that the nature of man is compounded of two parts, the physical and the mental, and no one would deny that of these two the mind comes first and is of greater worth; for it is the function of the mind to decide both on personal and on public questions, and of the body to be servant to the judgements of the mind.

Sections 181–185

Since this is so, certain of our ancestors, long before our time, seeing that many arts had been devised for other things, while none had been prescribed for the body and for the mind, invented and bequeathed to us two disciplines, physical training for the body, of which gymnastics is a part, and, for the mind, philosophy, which I am going to explain.

These are twin arts—parallel and complementary—by which their masters prepare the mind to become more intelligent and the body to become more serviceable, not separating sharply the two kinds of education, but using similar methods of instruction, exercise, and other forms of discipline.

For when they take their pupils in hand, the physical trainers instruct their followers in the postures which have been devised for bodily contests, while the teachers of philosophy impart all the forms of discourse in which the mind expresses itself.

Then, when they have made them familiar and thoroughly conversant with these lessons, they set them at exercises, habituate them to work, and require them to combine in practice the particular things which they have learned, in order that they may grasp them more firmly and bring their theories into closer touch with the occasions for applying them—I say “theories,” for no system of knowledge can possibly cover these occasions, since in all cases they elude our science. Yet those who most apply their minds to them and are able to discern the consequences which for the most part grow out of them, will most often meet these occasions in the right way.

Watching over them and training them in this manner, both the teachers of gymnastic and the teachers of discourse are able to advance their pupils to a point where they are better men and where they are stronger in their thinking or in the use of their bodies. However, neither class of teachers is in possession of a science by which they can make capable athletes or capable orators out of whomsoever they please. They can contribute in some degree to these results, but these powers are never found in their perfection save in those who excel by virtue both of talent and of training.

Sections 186–190

I have given you now some impression of what philosophy is. But I think that you will get a still clearer idea of its powers if I tell you what professions I make to those who want to become my pupils.

I say to them that if they are to excel in oratory or in managing affairs or in any line of work, they must, first of all, have a natural aptitude for that which they have elected to do; secondly, they must submit to training and master the knowledge of their particular subject, whatever it may be in each case; and, finally, they must become versed and practised in the use and application of their art; for only on these conditions can they become fully competent and pre-eminent in any line of endeavor.

In this process, master and pupil each has his place; no one but the pupil can furnish the necessary capacity; no one but the master, the ability to impart knowledge while both have a part in the exercises of practical application: for the master must painstakingly direct his pupil, and the latter must rigidly follow the master’s instructions.

Now these observations apply to any and all the arts. If anyone, ignoring the other arts, were to ask me which of these factors has the greatest power in the education of an orator I should answer that natural ability is paramount and comes before all else. For given a man with a mind which is capable of finding out and learning the truth and of working hard and remembering what it learns, and also with a voice and a clarity of utterance which are able to captivate the audience, not only by what he says, but by the music of his words,

and, finally, with an assurance which is not an expression of bravado, but which, tempered by sobriety, so fortifies the spirit that he is no less at ease in addressing all his fellow-citizens than in reflecting to himself—who does not know that such a man might, without the advantage of an elaborate education and with only a superficial and common training, be an orator such as has never, perhaps, been seen among the Hellenes?

Sections 191–195

Again, we know that men who are less generously endowed by nature but excel in experience and practice, not only improve upon themselves, but surpass others who, though highly gifted, have been too negligent of their talents. It follows, therefore, that either one of these factors may produce an able speaker or an able man of affairs, but both of them combined in the same person might produce a man incomparable among his fellows.

These, then, are my views as to the relative importance of native ability and practice. I cannot, however, make a like claim for education; its powers are not equal nor comparable to theirs. For if one should take lessons in all the principles of oratory and master them with the greatest thoroughness, he might, perhaps, become a more pleasing speaker than most, but let him stand up before the crowd and lack one thing only, namely, assurance, and he would not be able to utter a word.

But let no one of you think that before you I belittle my pretensions, while when I address those who desire to become my pupils I claim every power for my teaching; for it was to avoid just such a charge as this that, when I entered upon my profession, I wrote and published a discourse in which you will find that I attack those who make pretensions which are unwarranted, and set forth my own ideas.

Now I am not going to quote from it my criticisms of others; for they are too long for the present occasion; but I shall attempt to repeat to you that part in which I express my own views. I begin at this point.

Now this quotation is of a more finished style than what has been said before, but its meaning is the same, and this ought to be taken by you as a convincing proof of my honesty; for you see that I did not brag and make big promises when I was young only to speak modestly for my philosophy now that I have reaped the harvest of my labors and am an old man, but that, on the contrary, I speak in the same terms both when I was at the height of my career and now when I am ready to retire from it, both when I had no thought of danger and now when I stand in jeopardy, and both in addressing those who wanted to become my pupils and now in addressing those who are to vote upon my fate. I do not see, therefore, how the sincerity and honesty of my professions could be more clearly shown.

Sections 196–200

Let this quotation, then, add its weight to what I have said before. I do not, however, delude myself as to the people who are ill disposed towards my teaching: nothing of what I have said so far is enough to disabuse them of this feeling; and it will take many arguments of all sorts to convert them to a different opinion from that which they now hold.

Accordingly I must not leave off expounding and speaking until I shall accomplish one of two things—until I have persuaded them to change their views or have proved that the slanders and charges which they repeat against me are false. These charges are of two kinds. Some of them say that the profession of the sophist is nothing but sham and chicane, maintaining that no kind of education has ever been discovered which can improve a man’s ability to speak or his capacity for handling affairs, and that those who excel in these respects owe their superiority to natural gifts;

while others acknowledge that men who take this training are more able, but complain that they are corrupted and demoralized by it, alleging that when they gain the power to do so, they scheme to get other people’s property. Now there is not a sound or true word in either complaint, as I am very confident that I can prove to everyone.

First of all I would have you note, in the case of those who assert that education is a sham, that they quite obviously talk rubbish themselves; for while they ridicule it as powerless to help us—nothing but humbug and chicane—at the same time they demand that my pupils show improvement from the moment they come to me;

that when they have been with me a few days, they must be abler and wiser in speech than those who have the advantage over them both in years and in experience; and that when they have been with me no more than a year, they must all be good and finished orators; nor must the indolent be a whit less accomplished than the industrious, nor they who are lacking in ability than those who are blessed with vigorous minds.

Sections 201–205

These are the requirements they set up, and yet they have never heard me make such promises, nor have they ever seen like results in the other arts and disciplines. On the contrary, all knowledge yields itself up to us only after great effort on our part, and we are by no means all equally capable of working out in practice what we learn. Nay, from all our schools only two or three students turn out to be real champions, the rest retiring from their studies into private life.

And yet how can we fail to deny intelligence to those who have the effrontery to demand powers which are not found in the recognized arts of this which they declare is not an art and who expect greater advantages to come from an art in which they do not believe than from arts which they regard as thoroughly perfected?

Men of intelligence ought not to form contrary judgements about similar things nor refuse to recognize a discipline which accomplishes the same results as most of the arts. For who among you does not know that most of those who have sat under the sophists have not been duped nor affected as these men claim,

but that some of them have been turned out competent champions and others able teachers; while those who have preferred to live in private have become more gracious in their social intercourse than before, and keener judges and more prudent counsellors than the great majority? How then is it possible to scorn a discipline which is able to make of those who have taken advantage of it men of that kind?

Furthermore, this also will be agreed to by all men, namely, that in all the arts and crafts we regard those as the most skilled who turn out pupils who all work as far as possible in the same manner. Now it will be seen that this is the case with philosophy.

Sections 206–210

For all who have been under a true and intelligent guide will be found to have a power of speech so similar that it is evident to everyone that they have shared the same training. And yet, had not a common habit and a common technique of training been instilled into them, it is inconceivable that they should have taken on this likeness.

Again, every one of you could name many of your schoolfellows who when they were boys seemed to be the dullest among their companions, but who, growing older, outstripped them farther in intelligence and in speech than they had lagged behind them when they were boys. From this fact you can best judge what training can do; for it is evident that when they were young they all possessed such mental powers as they were born with, but as they grew to be men, these outstripped the others and changed places with them in intelligence, because their companions lived dissolutely and softly, while they gave heed to their own opportunities and to their own welfare.

But when people succeed in making progress through their own diligence alone, how can they fail to improve in a much greater degree both over themselves and over others if they put themselves under a master who is mature, of great experience, and learned not only in what has been handed down to him but in what he has discovered for himself?

But there remain still other reasons why everyone may well be astonished at the ignorance in men who venture so blindly to condemn philosophy. For, in the first place, they know that pains and industry give proficiency in all other activities and arts, yet deny that they have any such power in the training of the intellect;

secondly, they admit that no physical weakness is so hopeless that it cannot be improved by exercise and effort, but they do not believe that our minds, which are naturally superior to our bodies, can be made more serviceable through education and suitable training;

Sections 211–215

again, they observe that some people possess the art of training horses and dogs and most other animals by which they make them more spirited, gentle or intelligent, as the case may be, yet they do not think that any education has been discovered for training human nature, such as can improve men in any of those respects in which we improve the beasts.

Nay, so great is the misfortune which they impute to us all, that while they would acknowledge that it is by our mental powers that every creature is improved and made more useful, yet they have the hardihood to claim that we ourselves, who are endowed with an intelligence through which we render all creatures of greater worth, cannot help each other to advance in excellence.

But most absurd of all, they behold in the shows which are held year after year lions which are more gentle toward their trainers than some people are toward their benefactors, and bears which dance about and wrestle and imitate our skill,

and yet they are not able to judge even from these instances the power which education and training have, nor can they see that human nature will respond more promptly than the animals to the benefits of education. In truth, I cannot make up my mind which should astonish us the more—the gentleness which is implanted in the fiercest of wild beasts or the brutishness which resides in the souls of such men.

One might say more upon this head, but if I say too much on questions about which most men are agreed, I fear you may suspect that I have little to say on questions which are in dispute. Therefore I shall leave this subject and turn my attention to a class of people who do not, to be sure, contemn philosophy but condemn it much more bitterly since they attribute the iniquities of those who profess to be sophists, but in practice are far different, to those whose ways have nothing in common with them.

Sections 216–220

But I am speaking, not in behalf of all those who pretend to be able to educate the young, but in behalf of those only who have justly earned this reputation, and I think that I shall convince you that my accusers have shot very wide of the truth if only you are willing to hear me to the end.

In the first place, then, we must determine what are the objects which make people venture to do evil; for if we define these correctly, you will be better able to make up your minds whether the charges which have been made against us are true or false. Well then, I maintain that everyone does everything which he does for the sake of pleasure or gain or honor; for I observe that no desire springs up in men save for these objects.

If this be so, it only remains to consider which of these objects we should attain by corrupting the young. Do you suppose it would give us pleasure to see or hear that our pupils were bad and in evil repute with their fellow-citizens? And who is so insensate that he would not be distressed to have such things reported about himself?

But surely we could not expect to be admired nor to enjoy great honor for sending out disciples of that sort; on the contrary, we should be much more despised and hated than those who are charged with other forms of villainy. And, mark you, even if we could shut our eyes to these consequences, we could not gain the most money by directing a training of that character;

for, I suppose, all men are aware that a sophist reaps his finest and his largest reward when his pupils prove to be honorable and intelligent and highly esteemed by their fellow-citizens, since pupils of that sort inspire many with the desire to enjoy his teaching, while those who are depraved repel even those who were formerly minded to join his classes. Who, then, could be blind to the more profitable course, when there is so vast a difference between the two?

Sections 221–225

Perhaps, however, some might venture to reply that many men, because of their incontinence, are not amenable to reason, but neglect their true interests and rush on in the pursuit of pleasure. I grant you that many men in general and some who pretend to be sophists are of this nature.

Nevertheless, no one even of their number is so incontinent as to desire his pupils also to show the same lack of control; for he would not be able to share in the pleasures which they might enjoy as the result of their incontinence, while he would bring down upon his own head most of the evil repute which would result from their depravity. Again, whom would they corrupt and what manner of people would they get as pupils?

For this is worth inquiring into. Would they get those who are already perverse and vicious? And who, pray, would make an effort to learn from another what his own nature teaches him? Would they, then, get those who are honest and ambitious to lead a useful life? But no such person would deign to speak with men who are evil in their words and in their deeds.

I should like to ask those who disapprove of me what they think about the students who cross the sea from Sicily, from the Pontus, and from other parts of the world in order to enjoy my instruction. Do they think that they voyage to Athens because of the dearth of evil-minded men at home? But anywhere on earth anyone can find no lack of men willing to aid him in depravity and crime.

Do they think, then, that they come here in order to become intriguers and sycophants, at great expense to themselves? But, in the first place, people of this mind are much more inclined to lay hold of other people’s property than to part with anything of their own; and, in the next place, who would pay out money to learn depravity, since it is easy to be depraved at no expense whatever, whenever one is so inclined? For there is no need of taking lessons in evil-doing; all that a man has to do is to set his hands to it.

Sections 226–230

No, it is evident that these students cross the sea and pay out money and go to all manner of trouble because they think that they themselves will be the better for it and that the teachers here are much more intelligent than those in their own countries. This ought to fill all Athenians with pride and make them appreciate at their worth those who have given to the city this reputation.

But, in fact, some of our people are extremely unreasonable. They know that neither the strangers who come here nor the men who preside over their education occupy themselves with anything harmful, but that they are, on the contrary, the most unofficious and the most peaceable of all who live in Athens, giving their minds to their own affairs and confining their intercourse to each other,

and living, furthermore, day by day in the greatest simplicity and decorum, taking their pleasures in discourse—not the kind of discourse which is employed in petty litigation nor that which is offensive to anyone, but the kind which has the approbation of all men. Nevertheless, although they know all this about them, they do not refrain from traducing them and saying that they engage in this training in order that they may defeat the ends of justice in the courts and win their own advantage.

And yet who that engages in the practice of injustice and of evildoing would be willing to live more continently than the rest? Whom have these traducers ever seen reserving and treasuring up their depravities for future use instead of indulging from the first the evil instincts present in their nature?

But, apart from these considerations, if it be true that cleverness in speech results in plotting against other people’s property, we should expect all able speakers to be intriguers and sycophants; for the same cause produces in every instance the same effect.

Sections 231–235

In fact, however, you will find that among our public men who are living today or who have but lately passed away those who give most study to the art of words are the best of the statesmen who come before you on the rostrum, and, furthermore, that among the ancients it was the greatest and the most illustrious orators who brought to the city most of her blessings.

First of all was Solon. For when he was placed at the head of the people, he gave them laws, set their affairs in order, and constituted the government of the city so wisely that even now Athens is well satisfied with the polity which was organized by him. Next, Cleisthenes, after he had been driven from Athens by the tyrants, succeeded by his eloquence in persuading the Amphictyons to lend him money from the treasury of Apollo, and thus restored the people to power, expelled the tyrants, and established that democracy to which the world of Hellas owes its greatest blessings.

After him, Themistocles, placed at the head of our forces in the Persian War, counselled our ancestors to abandon the city(and who could have persuaded them to do this but a man of surpassing eloquence?), and so advanced their circumstances that at the price of being homeless for a few days they became for a long period of time the masters of the Hellenes.

Finally, Pericles, because he was both a good leader of the people and an excellent orator, so adorned the city with temples, monuments, and other objects of beauty, that even today visitors who come to Athens think her worthy of ruling not only the Hellenes, but all the world; and, more than this, he stored away in the Acropolis a sum of not less than ten thousand talents.

And of these men who carried out such great enterprises not one neglected the art of discourse; nay, so much more did they apply their minds to eloquence than to other things, that Solon was named one of the seven sophists and was given the title which is now dishonored and on trial here; and Pericles studied under two of the sophists, Anaxagoras of Clazomenae and Damon, the latter in his day reputed to be the wisest among the Athenians.

Sections 236–240

Could one, then, show more clearly than by these examples that the powers of eloquence do not turn men into evil-doers? No, but, on the other hand, those who are evil from their birth, like my accuser, will, I doubt not, continue to the end indulging their depravity both in words and in deeds.

But I can show you also where you may see, if you desire, the names of our trouble-makers and of the men who are really liable to the charges which these people apply to the sophists. They are published by law on the tablets which the magistrates set up: public offenders and sycophants have their names published by the Thesmothetae; malefactors and their instigators, by the Eleven; and private offenders and authors of unjust complaints, by the Forty.

In these lists you will find the names of this fellow and his friends recorded many times, but you will not find my name nor that of anyone of my profession published in a single one of them. On the contrary, you will find that we so order our own affairs as to stand in no need of your lawsuits.

And yet, when men keep clear of these troubles, when they live decently and have had no part in any disgraceful act, why do you not give them their due of praise instead of subjecting them to trial? For it is evident that the principles which we instil into our students are such as we practice in our own lives.

Now you will appreciate even more clearly from the things which I am going to say that I am far from being a corrupter of our youth. For if I were guilty of this, Lysimachus would not be the one to be incensed in their behalf, nor anyone of his kind, but you would see the fathers and relatives of my pupils up in arms, framing writs and seeking to bring me to justice.

Sections 241–245

But instead of that they bring their sons to me and are ready to pay me money, and are rejoiced when they see them spending their days in my society, while the sycophants are the men who speak evil of me and hale me into court. And who more than these sycophants would like to see many of our citizens corrupted and depraved, since they know that when they live among such characters they wield great power, whereas when they fall into the hands of honorable and intelligent men, they are doomed to destruction?

Therefore these men are wise in seeking to do away with all studies which they consider will make men better, and so render them more intolerant of the depravities and intrigues of the sycophants. It is well for you, however, to take the opposite course and regard those pursuits as the best to which you see that these men are most inimical.

But I now find myself in a curious position; for I am going to be frank even if some will say that I shift my ground too easily. A little while ago I said that many good men had been misled about philosophy, and are consequently harshly disposed toward it. Now, however, I have assumed that the arguments which I have presented are so plain and evident to all that no one, it seems to me, can misapprehend its power or accuse me of corrupting my disciples or have any such feeling as I imputed to them a little while ago.

Nevertheless, if I am to speak the truth and say what has now come into my mind, I am of the opinion that while all those who are envious of my success covet the ability to think and speak well, yet they themselves neglect to cultivate it, some because they are indolent, some because they discredit their own powers, and some on other pretexts (and these are legion);

but when other men take great pains and show a desire to attain what they themselves covet, then they grow irritated, jealous, perturbed in spirit, and are much in the same state of mind as lovers are. Indeed, how could one more aptly explain their condition?

Sections 246–250

They envy the good fortune of those who are able to use words eloquently; yet they reproach the youth who aspire to win this distinction. There is no one of them who would not pray the gods to bestow the power of eloquence upon himself, first of all, and failing that, upon his sons and his own kin;

yet when men strive through work and study to accomplish for themselves what these people would like to have as a gift from the gods, they accuse them of going utterly astray. At one moment they make believe to mock at them as dupes and victims; and then again, for no reason at all, they change about and denounce them as adepts in grasping their own advantage.

When any danger threatens the city, they seek counsel from those who can speak best upon the question at issue and act upon their advice; but when men devote their efforts to preparing themselves to serve the state in just such crises, they think it proper to traduce them. And they reproach the Thebans and our other enemies for their ignorance; yet when men seek by every means to escape from that malady, they never cease maligning them.

But as a symptom, not only of their confusion of mind, but of their contempt for the gods, they recognize that Persuasion is one of the gods, and they observe that the city makes sacrifices to her every year, but when men aspire to share the power which the goddess possesses, they claim that such aspirants are being corrupted, as though their desire were for some evil thing.

But what is most astonishing of all is that while they would grant that the mind is superior to the body, nevertheless, in spite of this opinion, they look with greater favor upon training in gymnastics than upon the study of philosophy. And yet how unreasonable it is to give higher praise to those who cultivate the less than to those who cultivate the greater thing, and that too when everyone knows it was not through excellence of body that Athens ever accomplished any noteworthy thing, but that through wisdom of men she became the most prosperous and the greatest of Hellenic states.

Sections 251–255

It would be possible to bring together many more contradictions than the above in the views of these people, but that is a task for those who are younger than I and who are free from anxiety about the present occasion. For example, one might put the following questions on this very subject: Suppose the case of men who, having inherited large fortunes from their ancestors, used their wealth, not to render themselves serviceable to the state, but to outrage their fellow-citizens and to dishonor their sons and their wives; would anyone venture to put the blame upon the authors of their wealth instead of demanding that the offenders themselves be punished?

Again, suppose the case of men who, having mastered the art of war, did not use their skill against the enemy, but rose up and slew many of their fellow-citizens; or suppose the case of men who, having been trained to perfection in the art of boxing or of the pancration, kept away from the games and fell foul of the passers-by; would anyone withhold praise from their instructors instead of putting to death those who turned their lessons to an evil use?

We ought, therefore, to think of the art of discourse just as we think of the other arts, and not to form opposite judgements about similar things, nor show ourselves intolerant toward that power which, of all the faculties which belong to the nature of man, is the source of most of our blessings. For in the other powers which we possess, as I have already said on a former occasion, we are in no respect superior to other living creatures; nay, we are inferior to many in swiftness and in strength and in other resources;

but, because there has been implanted in us the power to persuade each other and to make clear to each other whatever we desire, not only have we escaped the life of wild beasts, but we have come together and founded cities and made laws and invented arts; and, generally speaking, there is no institution devised by man which the power of speech has not helped us to establish.

For this it is which has laid down laws concerning things just and unjust, and things honorable and base; and if it were not for these ordinances we should not be able to live with one another. It is by this also that we confute the bad and extol the good. Through this we educate the ignorant and appraise the wise; for the power to speak well is taken as the surest index of a sound understanding, and discourse which is true and lawful and just is the outward image of a good and faithful soul.

Sections 256–260

With this faculty we both contend against others on matters which are open to dispute and seek light for ourselves on things which are unknown; for the same arguments which we use in persuading others when we speak in public, we employ also when we deliberate in our own thoughts; and, while we call eloquent those who are able to speak before a crowd, we regard as sage those who most skilfully debate their problems in their own minds.

And, if there is need to speak in brief summary of this power, we shall find that none of the things which are done with intelligence take place without the help of speech, but that in all our actions as well as in all our thoughts speech is our guide, and is most employed by those who have the most wisdom. But without reflecting at all on these truths, Lysimachus has dared to attack those who aspire to an accomplishment which is the source of blessings so many and so great.

But why should we be surprised at him when even among the professors of disputation there are some who talk no less abusively of the art of speaking on general and useful themes than do the most benighted of men, not that they are ignorant of its power or of the advantage which it quickly gives to those who avail themselves of it, but because they think that by decrying this art they will enhance the standing of their own.

I could, perhaps, say much harsher things of them than they of me, but I refrain for a double reason. I want neither to descend to the level of men whom envy has made blind nor to censure men who, although they do no actual harm to their pupils are less able to benefit them than are other teachers. I shall, however, say a few words about them, first because they also have paid their compliments to me; second, in order that you, being better informed as to their powers, may estimate us justly in relation to each other;

and, furthermore, that I may show you clearly that we who are occupied with political discourse and whom they call contentious are more considerate than they; for although they are always saying disparaging things of me, I shall not answer them in kind but shall confine myself to the simple truth.

Sections 261–265

For I believe that the teachers who are skilled in disputation and those who are occupied with astronomy and geometry and studies of that sort do not injure but, on the contrary, benefit their pupils, not so much as they profess, but more than others give them credit for.

Most men see in such studies nothing but empty talk and hair-splitting; for none of these disciplines has any useful application either to private or to public affairs; nay, they are not even remembered for any length of time after they are learned because they do not attend us through life nor do they lend aid in what we do, but are wholly divorced from our necessities.

But I am neither of this opinion nor am I far removed from it; rather it seems to me both that those who hold that this training is of no use in practical life are right and that those who speak in praise of it have truth on their side. If there is a contradiction in this statement, it is because these disciplines are different in their nature from the other studies which make up our education;

for the other branches avail us only after we have gained a knowledge of them, whereas these studies can be of no benefit to us after we have mastered them unless we have elected to make our living from this source, and only help us while we are in the process of learning. For while we are occupied with the subtlety and exactness of astronomy and geometry

and are forced to apply our minds to difficult problems, and are, in addition, being habituated to speak and apply ourselves to what is said and shown to us, and not to let our wits go wool-gathering, we gain the power, after being exercised and sharpened on these disciplines, of grasping and learning more easily and more quickly those subjects which are of more importance and of greater value.

Sections 266–270

I do not, however, think it proper to apply the term “philosophy” to a training which is no help to us in the present either in our speech or in our actions, but rather I would call it a gymnastic of the mind and a preparation for philosophy. It is, to be sure, a study more advanced than that which boys in school pursue, but it is for the most part the same sort of thing;

for they also when they have labored through their lessons in grammar, music, and the other branches, are not a whit advanced in their ability to speak and deliberate on affairs, but they have increased their aptitude for mastering greater and more serious studies.

I would, therefore, advise young men to spend some time on these disciplines, but not to allow their minds to be dried up by these barren subtleties, nor to be stranded on the speculations of the ancient sophists, who maintain, some of them, that the sum of things is made up of infinite elements; Empedocles that it is made up of four, with strife and love operating among them; Ion, of not more than three; Alcmaeon, of only two; Parmenides and Melissus, of one; and Gorgias, of none at all.

For I think that such curiosities of thought are on a par with jugglers’ tricks which, though they do not profit anyone, yet attract great crowds of the empty-minded, and I hold that men who want to do some good in the world must banish utterly from their interests all vain speculations and all activities which have no bearing on our lives.

Now I have spoken and advised you enough on these studies for the present. It remains to tell you about “wisdom” and “philosophy.” It is true that if one were pleading a case on any other issue it would be out of place to discuss these words (for they are foreign to all litigation), but it is appropriate for me, since I am being tried on such an issue, and since I hold that what some people call philosophy is not entitled to that name, to define and explain to you what philosophy, properly conceived, really is.

Sections 271–275

My view of this question is, as it happens, very simple. For since it is not in the nature of man to attain a science by the possession of which we can know positively what we should do or what we should say, in the next resort I hold that man to be wise who is able by his powers of conjecture to arrive generally at the best course, and I hold that man to be a philosopher who occupies himself with the studies from which he will most quickly gain that kind of insight.

What the studies are which have this power I can tell you, although I hesitate to do so; they are so contrary to popular belief and so very far removed from the opinions of the rest of the world, that I am afraid lest when you first hear them you will fill the whole court-room with your murmurs and your cries. Nevertheless, in spite of my misgivings, I shall attempt to tell you about them; for I blush at the thought that anyone might suspect me of betraying the truth to save my old age and the little of life remaining to me.

But, I beg of you, do not, before you have heard me, judge that I could have been so mad as to choose deliberately, when my fate is in your hands, to express to you ideas which are repugnant to your opinions if I had not believed that these ideas follow logically on what I have previously said, and that I could support them with true and convincing proofs.

I consider that the kind of art which can implant honesty and justice in depraved natures has never existed and does not now exist, and that people who profess that power will grow weary and cease from their vain pretensions before such an education is ever found.

But I do hold that people can become better and worthier if they conceive an ambition to speak well, if they become possessed of the desire to be able to persuade their hearers, and, finally, if they set their hearts on seizing their advantage—I do not mean “advantage” in the sense given to that word by the empty-minded, but advantage in the true meaning of that term;

Sections 276–280

and that this is so I think I shall presently make clear. For, in the first place, when anyone elects to speak or write discourses which are worthy of praise and honor, it is not conceivable that he will support causes which are unjust or petty or devoted to private quarrels, and not rather those which are great and honorable, devoted to the welfare of man and our common good; for if he fails to find causes of this character, he will accomplish nothing to the purpose.

In the second place, he will select from all the actions of men which bear upon his subject those examples which are the most illustrious and the most edifying; and, habituating himself to contemplate and appraise such examples, he will feel their influence not only in the preparation of a given discourse but in all the actions of his life. It follows, then, that the power to speak well and think right will reward the man who approaches the art of discourse with love of wisdom and love of honor.

Furthermore, mark you, the man who wishes to persuade people will not be negligent as to the matter of character; no, on the contrary, he will apply himself above all to establish a most honorable name among his fellow-citizens; for who does not know that words carry greater conviction when spoken by men of good repute than when spoken by men who live under a cloud, and that the argument which is made by a man’s life is of more weight than that which is furnished by words? Therefore,the stronger a man’s desire to persuade his hearers, the more zealously will he strive to be honorable and to have the esteem of his fellow-citizens.

And let no one of you suppose that while all other people realize how much the scales of persuasion incline in favor of one who has the approval of his judges, the devotees of philosophy alone are blind to the power of good will. In fact, they appreciate this even more thoroughly than others, and they know, furthermore,

that probabilities and proofs and all forms of persuasion support only the points in a case to which they are severally applied, whereas an honorable reputation not only lends greater persuasiveness to the words of the man who possesses it, but adds greater lustre to his deeds, and is, therefore, more zealously to be sought after by men of intelligence than anything else in the world.

Sections 281–285

I come now to the question of “advantage”—the most difficult of the points I have raised. If anyone is under the impression that people who rob others or falsify accounts or do any evil thing get the advantage, he is wrong in his thinking; for none are at a greater disadvantage throughout their lives than such men; none are found in more difficult straits, none live in greater ignominy; and, in a word, none are more miserable than they.

No, you ought to believe rather that those are better off now and will receive the advantage in the future at the hands of the gods who are the most righteous and the most faithful in their devotions, and that those receive the better portion at the hands of men who are the most conscientious in their dealings with their associates, whether in their homes or in public life, and are themselves esteemed as the noblest among their fellows.

This is verily the truth, and it is well for us to adopt this way of speaking on the subject, since, as things now are, Athens has in many respects been plunged into such a state of topsy-turvy and confusion that some of our people no longer use words in their proper meaning but wrest them from the most honorable associations and apply them to the basest pursuits.

On the one hand, they speak of men who play the buffoon and have a talent for mocking and mimicking as “gifted”—an appellation which should be reserved for men endowed with the highest excellence; while, on the other hand, they think of men who indulge their depraved and criminal instincts and who for small gains acquire a base reputation as “getting the advantage,” instead of applying this term to the most righteous and the most upright, that is, to men who take advantage of the good and not the evil things of life.

They characterize men who ignore our practical needs and delight in the mental juggling of the ancient sophists as “students of philosophy,” but refuse this name to whose who pursue and practise those studies which will enable us to govern wisely both our own households and the commonwealth—which should be the objects of our toil, of our study, and of our every act. It is from these pursuits that you have for a long time now been driving away our youth, because you accept the words of those who denounce this kind of education.

Sections 286–290

Yes, and you have brought it about that the most promising of our young men are wasting their youth in drinking-bouts, in parties, in soft living and childish folly, to the neglect of all efforts to improve themselves; while those of grosser nature are engaged from morning until night in extremes of dissipation which in former days an honest slave would have despised.

You see some of them chilling their wine at the “Nine-fountains”; others, drinking in taverns; others, tossing dice in gambling dens; and many, hanging about the training-schools of the flute-girls. And as for those who encourage them in these things, no one of those who profess to be concerned for our youth has ever haled them before you for trial, but instead they persecute me, who, whatever else I may deserve, do at any rate deserve thanks for this, that I discourage such habits in my pupils.

But so inimical to all the world is this race of sycophants that when men pay a ransom of a hundred and thirty minae for women who bid fair to help them make away with the rest of their property besides, so far from reproaching them, they actually rejoice in their extravagance; but when men spend any amount, however small, upon their education, they complain that they are being corrupted. Could any charge be more unjust than this against our students?

For, while in the prime of vigor, when most men of their age are most inclined to indulge their passions, they have disdained a life of pleasure; when they might have saved expense and lived softly, they have elected to pay out money and submit to toil; and, though hardly emerged from boyhood, they have come to appreciate what most of their elders do not know,

namely, that if one is to govern his youth rightly and worthily and make the proper start in life, he must give more heed to himself than to his possessions, he must not hasten and seek to rule over others before he has found a master to direct his own thoughts, and he must not take as great pleasure or pride in other advantages as in the good things which spring up in the soul under a liberal education. I ask you, then, when young men have governed themselves by these principles, ought they not to be praised rather than censured, ought they not to be recognized as the best and the most sober-minded among their fellows?

Sections 291–295

I marvel at men who felicitate those who are eloquent by nature on being blessed with a noble gift, and yet rail at those who wish to become eloquent, on the ground that they desire an immoral and debasing education. Pray, what that is noble by nature becomes shameful and base when one attains it by effort? We shall find that there is no such thing, but that, on the contrary, we praise, at least in other fields, those who by their own devoted toil are able to acquire some good thing more than we praise those who inherit it from their ancestors.

And rightly so; for it is well that in all activities, and most of all in the art of speaking, credit is won, not by gifts of fortune, but by efforts of study. For men who have been gifted with eloquence by nature and by fortune, are governed in what they say by chance, and not by any standard of what is best, whereas those who have gained this power by the study of philosophy and by the exercise of reason never speak without weighing their words, and so are less often in error as to a course of action.

Therefore, it behoves all men to want to have many of their youth engaged in training to become speakers, and you Athenians most of all. For you, yourselves, are pre-eminent and superior to the rest of the world, not in your application to the business of war, nor because you govern yourselves more excellently or preserve the laws handed down to you by your ancestors more faithfully than others, but in those qualities by which the nature of man rises above the other animals, and the race of the Hellenes above the barbarians,

namely, in the fact that you have been educated as have been no other people in wisdom and in speech. So, then, nothing more absurd could happen than for you to declare by your votes that students who desire to excel their companions in those very qualities in which you excel mankind, are being corrupted, and to visit any misfortune upon them for availing themselves of an education in which you have become the leaders of the world.

For you must not lose sight of the fact that Athens is looked upon as having become a school for the education of all able orators and teachers of oratory. And naturally so; for people observe that she holds forth the greatest prizes for those who have this ability, that she offers the greatest number and variety of fields of exercise to those who have chosen to enter contests of this character and want to train for them,

Sections 296–300

and that, furthermore, everyone obtains here that practical experience which more than any other thing imparts ability to speak; and, in addition to these advantages, they consider that the catholicity and moderation of our speech, as well as our flexibility of mind and love of letters, contribute in no small degree to the education of the orator. Therefore they suppose, and not without just reason, that all clever speakers are the disciples of Athens.

Beware, then, lest it make you utterly ridiculous to pronounce a disparaging judgement upon the reputation which you have among the Hellenes even more than I have among you. Manifestly, by such an unjust verdict, you would be passing sentence upon yourselves.

It would be as if the Lacedaemonians were to attempt to penalize men for training themselves in preparation for war, or as if the Thessalians saw fit to punish men for practicing the art of horsemanship. Take care, therefore, not to do yourselves this wrong and not to lend support to the slanders of the enemies of Athens rather than to the eulogies of her friends.

I think that you are not unaware that while some of the Hellenes are hostile to you, some are extremely friendly, and rest their hopes of security upon you. These say that Athens is the only city, the others being mere villages, and that she deserves to be termed the capital of Hellas both because of her size and because of the resources which she furnishes to the rest of the world, and most of all because of the character of her inhabitants;

for no people, they insist, are more kindly or more sociable, nor could anyone find any people with whom he could spend all his days in friendlier intercourse. Indeed, so extravagant are they in their praise that they do not even hesitate to say that they would rather suffer injury at the hands of an Athenian gentleman than benefit through the rudeness of people from another city. There are, on the other hand, those who scoff at this praise, and, dwelling upon the cruel and iniquitous practices of the sycophants, denounce the whole city as savage and insupportable.

Sections 301–305

It is, therefore, the duty of intelligent judges to destroy those who heap infamy upon the city and to reward those who are responsible in some degree for the tributes paid to her, more than you reward the athletes who are crowned in the great games, seeing that they win for the city a greater and more fitting glory than any athlete;

for in contests of the body we have many rivals; but in the training of the mind everyone would concede that we stand first. And men with even a slight ability to reason ought to show the world that they reward those who excel in those activities for which the city is renowned, and they ought not to envy them nor hold an opinion of them which is the opposite of the esteem in which they are held by the rest of the Hellenes.

But you have never troubled yourselves to do this; nay, you have so far mistaken your true interests that you are more pleased with those who cause you to be reviled than with those who cause you to be praised, and you think that those who have made many people hate the city are better friends of the demos than those who have inspired good will toward Athens in all with whom they have had to deal.

If, however, you are wise, you will put an end to this confusion, and you will not continue, as now, to take either a hostile or a contemptuous view of philosophy; on the contrary, you will conceive that the cultivation of the mind is the noblest and worthiest of pursuits and you will urge our young men who have sufficient means and who are able to take the time for it to embrace an education and a training of this sort.

And when they are willing to work hard and to prepare themselves to be of service to the city, you will make much of them; but when they give themselves to loose living and care for nothing else than to enjoy riotously what their fathers left to them, you will despise them and look upon them as false to the city and to the good name of their ancestors. For it will be hard enough, even though you show such an attitude of mind in either case, to get our youth to look down upon a life of ease and be willing to give their minds to their own improvement and to philosophy.

Sections 306–310

But reflect upon the glory and the greatness of the deeds wrought by our city and our ancestors, review them in your minds and consider what kind of man was he, what was his birth and what the character of his education, who expelled the tyrants, brought the people into their own, and established our democratic state; what sort was he who conquered the barbarians in the battle at Marathon and won for the city the glory which has come to Athens from this victory;

what was he who after him liberated the Hellenes and led our forefathers forth to the leadership and power which they achieved, and who, besides, appreciating the natural advantage of the Piraeus, girded the city with walls in despite of the Lacedaemonians; and what manner of man was he who after him filled the Acropolis with gold and silver and made the homes of the Athenians to overflow with prosperity and wealth:

for you will find if you review the career of each of these, that it was not those who lived unscrupulously or negligently nor those who did not stand out from the multitude who accomplished these things, but that it was men who were superior and pre-eminent, not only in birth and reputation, but in wisdom and eloquence, who have been the authors of all our blessings.

You ought to lay this lesson to heart and, while seeing to it in behalf of the mass of the people that they shall obtain their just rights in the trials of their personal disputes and that they shall have their due share of the other privileges which are common to all, you ought, on the other hand, to welcome and honor and cherish those who stand out from the multitude both in ability and in training and those who aspire to such eminence, since you know that leadership in great and noble enterprises, and the power to keep the city safe from danger and to preserve the rule of the people, rests with such men, and not with the sycophants.

Many ideas crowd into my thoughts, but I do not know how I can make place for them; for it seems to me that while every point which I have in mind would appeal to you if I presented it by itself, yet if I attempted to discuss them all at this time, I should put too great a strain both upon myself and upon my hearers. Indeed I fear that in what I have already said to you I may have fatigued you by speaking at such length.

Sections 311–315

For we are all so insatiable in discourse that while we prize due measure and affirm that there is nothing so precious, yet when we think that we have something of importance to say, we throw moderation to the winds, and go on adding point after point until little by little we involve ourselves in utter irrelevancies. Why, at the very moment that I say this and recognize its truth, I desire, nevertheless, to speak to you at greater length!

For I am grieved to see the sycophant’s trade faring better than philosophy—the one attacking, the other on the defensive. Who of the men of old could have anticipated that things would come to this pass, in Athens, of all places, where we more than others plume ourselves on our wisdom?

Things were not like that in the time of our ancestors; on the contrary, they admired the sophists, as they called them, and envied the good fortune of their disciples, while they blamed the sycophants for most of their ills. You will find the strongest proof of this in the fact that they saw fit to put Solon, who was the first of the Athenians to receive the title of sophist, at, the head of the state, while they applied to the sycophants more stringent laws than to other criminals;

for, while they placed the trial of the greatest crimes in the hands of a single one of the courts, against the sycophants they instituted indictments before the Thesmothetae, impeachments before the Senate, and plaints before the General Assembly, believing that those who plied this trade exceeded all other forms of villainy; for other criminals, at any rate, try to keep their evil-doing under cover,

while these flaunt their brutality, their misanthropy, and their contentiousness before the eyes of all. That was the way our ancestors felt about them. But you, so far from punishing the sycophants, actually set them up as accusers and legislators for the rest of the people. And yet there is reason for detesting them now more than at that time;

Sections 316–320

for then it was only in matters of ordinary routine and in affairs confined to the city that they damaged their country-men. In the meantime, however, the city waxed powerful and seized the empire of the Hellenes, and our fathers, growing more self-assured than was meet for them, began to look with disfavor on those good men and true who had made Athens great, envying them their power, and to crave instead men who were base-born and full of insolence,

thinking that by their bravado and contentiousness they would be able to preserve the rule of the people, while because of the meanness of their origin they would not become overweening nor ambitious to overturn the constitution. And since this change has taken place, what calamity has not been visited upon the city? What great misfortunes have these depraved natures failed to bring to pass through their speech and through their actions?

Have they not taunted the most illustrious of the Athenians—the men who were the best able to benefit the city—with oligarchical and Lacedaemonian sympathies, and never ceased until they have driven them to become in fact what they were charged with being? Have they not by ill-treating our allies, by lodging false complaints against them, by stripping the best of them of their possessions—have they not so disaffected them that they have revolted against us and craved the friendship and alliance of the Lacedaemonians?

And with what results? We have been plunged into war; we have seen many of our fellow-countrymen suffer, some of them dying in battle, some made prisoners of war, and others reduced to the last extremities of want; we have seen the democracy twice overthrown, the walls which defended our country torn down; and, worst of all, we have seen the whole city in peril of being enslaved, and our enemy encamped on the Acropolis.

But I perceive, even though my feelings carry me away, that the water in the clock is giving out, while I myself have fallen into thoughts and recriminations which would exhaust the day. Therefore, I pass over the multitude of calamities which these men have brought upon us; I thrust aside the throng of offenses which we might charge to their infamy, and content myself with just one word before I close.

Sections 321–323

I observe that when others who are placed in jeopardy here come to the end of their defense, they supplicate, they implore, they bring their children and their friends before the jury. I, however, consider that such expedients are unbecoming to one of my age; and, apart from this feeling, I should be ashamed to owe my life to any other plea than to the words which you have just heard. For I know that I have spoken with so just and clear a conscience both towards the city and our ancestors, and above all towards the gods, that if it be true that the gods concern themselves at all with human affairs I am sure that they are not indifferent to my present situation.

Wherefore, I have no fear of what may come to me at your hands; nay, I am of good courage and have every confidence that when I close my life it will be when it is best for me; for I take it as a good sign that all my past life up to this day has been such as is the due of righteous and god-fearing men.

Being assured, therefore, that I am of this mind, and that I believe that whatever you decide will be for my good and to my advantage, let each one cast his vote as he pleases and is inclined.

Contents — 20 sections

1. Sections 1–5
2. Sections 6–10
3. Sections 11–15
4. Sections 16–20
5. Sections 21–25
6. Sections 26–30
7. Sections 31–35
8. Sections 36–40
9. Sections 41–45
10. Sections 46–50
11. Sections 51–55
12. Sections 56–60
13. Sections 61–65
14. Sections 66–70
15. Sections 71–75
16. Sections 76–80
17. Sections 81–85
18. Sections 86–90
19. Sections 91–95
20. Sections 96–100

Sections 1–5

The difficulty that faces me, gentlemen of the jury, is not in beginning my accusation, but in bringing my speech to an end: so enormous, so numerous are the acts they have committed, that neither could lying avail one to accuse them of things more monstrous than the actual facts, nor with every desire to speak mere truth could one tell the whole; of necessity either the accuser must be tired out or his time must run short.

It seems to me that our positions will be the reverse of what they were in former times: for previously the accusers had to explain their enmity towards the defendants; but in the present case inquiry must be made of the defendants as to the motive of their enmity towards the city in committing such audacious offences against her. It is not, in deed, from any lack of private enmities and sufferings that I make these remarks, but because of the abundant reasons that all of us have for anger on personal grounds, or in the interest of the public.

Now as for myself, gentlemen, having never engaged in any suit either on my own account or on that of others, I have now been compelled by what has occurred to accuse this man: hence I have been often overcome with a great feeling of despondency, from a fear lest my inexperience might cause me to fail in making a worthy and able accusation on my brother’s and on my own behalf. Nevertheless I will try to inform you of the matter from the beginning, as briefly as I can.

My father Cephalus was induced by Pericles to come to this country, and dwelt in it for thirty years: never did he, any more than we, appear as either prosecutor or defendant in any case whatever, but our life under the democracy was such as to avoid any offence against our fellows and any wrong at their hands.

When the Thirty, by the evil arts of slander-mongers, were established in the government, and declared that the city must be purged of unjust men and the rest of the citizens inclined to virtue and justice, despite these professions they had the effrontery to discard them in practice, as I shall endeavor to remind you by speaking first of my own concerns, and then of yours.

Sections 6–10

Theognis and Peison stated before the Thirty that among the resident aliens that there might be some who were embittered against their administration, and that therefore they had an excellent pretext for appearing to punish while in reality making money; in any case, the State was impoverished, and the government needed funds.

They had no difficulty in persuading their hearers, for those men thought nothing of putting people to death, but a great deal of getting money. So they resolved to seize ten, of whom two should be poor men, that they might face the rest with the excuse that the thing had not been done for the sake of money, but had been brought about in the interest of the State, just as if they had taken some ordinary reasonable action.

They apportioned the houses among them, and began their visits: they found me entertaining guests, and after driving these out they handed me over to Peison. The others went to the factory and proceeded to make a list of the slaves. I asked Peison if he would save me for a price:

he assented, on condition that it was a high one. So I said that I was prepared to give him a talent of silver, and he agreed to my proposal. I knew well, indeed, that he had no regard either for gods or for men; but still, in the circumstances, I thought it imperative to get him pledged.

When he had sworn, invoking annihilation upon himself and his children if he did not save me on receipt of the talent, I went into my bedroom and opened the money-chest. Peison noticed it and came in; on seeing its contents he called two of his underlings and bade them take what was in the chest.

Sections 11–15

Since he now had, instead of the agreed amount, gentlemen, three talents of silver, four hundred cyzicenes, a hundred darics and four silver cups, I begged him to give me money for my journey; but he declared that I should be glad enough to save my skin.

As Peison and I were coming out, we were met by Melobius and Mnesitheides, who were on their way from the factory: they lighted upon us just at the door, and asked where we were going. Peison declared that he was off to my brother’s, for the purpose of examining the property in that house also. So they bade him go his way, but told me to follow along with them to Damnippus’s house.

Peison came up and urged me to keep silent and have no fear, as he was coming on to that place. There we found Theognis guarding some others; they handed me over to him, and went off again. Situated as I was I decided to take a risk, since death was already my portion.

I called Damnippus and said to him: You are in friendly relations with me, and I have come into your house; I have done no wrong, but am being destroyed for the sake of my money. This being my plight, exert your own utmost efforts for my salvation. He promised to do so; and he decided that he had better mention it to Theognis, as he believed that he would do anything for an offer of money.

While he was in conversation with Theognis—I happened to be familiar with the house, and knew that it had doors front and back—I decided to try this means of saving myself, reflecting that, if I should be unobserved, I should be saved; while, if I were caught, I expected that, should Theognis be induced by Damnippus to take money, I should get off none the less, but should he not, I should be put to death just the same.

Sections 16–20

With these conclusions I took to flight, while they were keeping guard over the courtyard door: there were three doors for me to pass through, and they all chanced to be open. I reached the house of Archeneos the ship-captain, and sent him into town to inquire after my brother: on his return he told me that Eratosthenes had arrested him in the street and taken him off to prison.

Thus apprised of his fate, I sailed across on the following night to Megara. Polemarchus received from the Thirty their accustomed order to drink hemlock, with no statement made as to the reason for his execution: still less was he allowed to be tried and defend himself.

And when he was being brought away dead from the prison, although we had three houses amongst us, they did not permit his funeral to be conducted from any of them, but they hired a small hut in which to lay him out. We had plenty of cloaks, yet they refused our request of one for the funeral; but our friends gave either a cloak, or a pillow, or whatever each had to spare, for his interment.

They had seven hundred shields of ours, they had all that silver and gold, with copper, jewellery, furniture and women’s apparel beyond what they had ever expected to get; also a hundred and twenty slaves, of whom they took the ablest, delivering the rest to the Treasury; and yet to what extremes of insatiable greed for gain did they go, in this revelation that they made of their personal character! For some twisted gold earrings, which Polemarchus’s wife had in her possession when she first came into his house, were taken out of her ears by Melobius.

And not even in respect of the smallest fraction of our property did we find any mercy at their hands but our wealth impelled them to act as injuriously towards us as others might from anger aroused by grievous wrongs. This was not the treatment that we deserved at the city’s hands, when we had produced all our dramas for the festivals, and contributed to many special levies; when we showed ourselves men of orderly life, and performed every duty laid upon us; when we had made not a single enemy, but had ransomed many Athenians from the foe. Such was their reward to us for behaving as resident aliens far otherwise than they did as citizens!

Sections 21–25

For they sent many of the citizens into exile with the enemy; they unjustly put many of them to death, and then deprived them of burial; many who had full civic rights they excluded from the citizenship; and the daughters of many they debarred from in tended marriage.

And they have carried audacity to such a pitch that they come here ready to defend themselves, and state that they are guilty of no vile or shameful action. I myself could have wished that their statement were true; for my own share in that benefit would not have been of the smallest.

But in fact they have nothing of the sort to show in regard either to the city or to me: my brother, as I said before, was put to death by Eratosthenes, who was neither suffering under any private wrong himself, nor found him offending against the State, but merely sought to gratify his own lawless passions.

I propose to put him up on the dais and question him, gentlemen of the jury. For my feeling is this: even to discuss this man with another for his profit I consider to be an impiety, but even to address this man himself, when it is for his hurt, I regard as a holy and pious action. So mount the dais, please, and answer the questions I put to you.

Did you arrest Polemarchus or not?—I was acting on the orders of the government, from fear.—Were you in the Council-chamber when the statements were being made about us?—I was.—Did you speak in support or in opposition of those who were urging the death sentence?—In opposition.—You were against taking our lives?—Against taking your lives.—In the belief that our fate was unjust, or just?—That it was unjust.

Sections 26–30

So then, most abandoned of mankind, you spoke in opposition to save us, but you helped in our arrest to put us to death! And when our salvation depended on the majority of your body, you assert that you spoke in opposition to those who sought our destruction; but when it rested with you alone to save Polemarchus or not, you arrested him and put him in prison. So then, because you failed to help him, as you say, by your speech in opposition, you claim to be accounted a good citizen, while for having apprehended him and put him to death you are not to give satisfaction to me and to this court!

And further, supposing he is truthful in asserting that he spoke in opposition, observe that there is no reason to credit his plea that he acted under orders. For I presume it was not where the resident aliens were concerned that they sought to put him to the proof. And then, who was less likely to be given such orders than the man who was found to have spoken in opposition and to have declared his opinion? For who was likely to be less active in this service than the man who spoke in opposition to the object that they had at heart?

Again, the rest of the Athenians have a sufficient excuse, in my opinion, for attributing to the Thirty the responsibility for what has taken place; but if the Thirty actually attribute it to themselves, how can you reasonably accept that?

For had there been some stronger authority in the city, whose orders were given him to destroy people in defiance of justice, you might perhaps have some reason for pardoning him; but whom, in fact, will you ever punish, if the Thirty are to be allowed to state that they merely carried out the orders of the Thirty?

Besides, it was not in his house, but in the street, where he was free to leave both him and the decrees of the Thirty intact, that he apprehended him and took him off to prison. You feel anger against everyone who entered your houses in search either of yourselves or of some member of your household:

Sections 31–35

yet, if there is to be pardon for those who have destroyed others to save themselves, you would be more justified in pardoning these intruders; for it was dangerous for them not to go where they were sent, and to deny that they had found the victims there. But Eratosthenes was free to say that he had not met his man, or else that he had not seen him for these were statements that did not admit of either disproof or inquisition; so that not even his enemies, however they might wish it, could have convicted him.

If in truth, Eratosthenes, you had been a good citizen, you ought far rather to have acted as an informant to those who were destined to an unjust death than to have laid hands on those who were to be unjustly destroyed. But the fact is that your deeds clearly reveal the man who, instead of feeling pain, took pleasure in what was being done; so that this court should take its verdict from your deeds, not from your words.

They should take what they know to have been done as evidence of what was said at the time, since it is not possible to produce witnesses of the latter. For we were restricted, not merely from attending their councils, but even from staying at home; and thus they have the licence, after doing all possible evil to the city, to say all possible good about themselves.

That one point, however, I do not contest; I admit, if you like, that you spoke in opposition. But I wonder what in the world you would have done if you had spoken in favour, when in spite of your alleged opposition you put Polemarchus to death. Now I would ask the court, even supposing that you had happened to be brothers or sons of this man, what would you have done? Acquitted him? For, gentlemen, Eratosthenes is bound to prove one of two things,—either that he did not arrest him, or that he did so with justice. But he has admitted that he laid hands on him unjustly, so that he has made your verdict on himself an easy matter.

And besides, many foreigners as well as townsfolk have come here to know what is to be your judgement on these men. The latter sort, your fellow-citizens, will have learnt before they leave, either that they will be punished for their offences, or that, if they succeed in their aims, they will be despots of the city, but, if they are disappointed, will be on an equality with you. As for all the foreigners who are staying in town, they will know whether they are acting unjustly or justly in banning the Thirty from their cities. For if the very people who have suffered injury from them are to let them go when they have hold of them, of course they will consider it a waste of pains on their own part to keep watch on your behalf.

Sections 36–40

And how monstrous it would be, when you have punished with death the commanders who won the victory at sea—they said that a storm prevented them from picking up the men in the water, but you felt that you must make them give satisfaction to the I valor of the dead—if these men, who as ordinary persons used their utmost endeavors towards your defeat in the sea-fights, and then, once established in power, admit that of their own free will they put to death many of the citizens without a trial,—if these men, I say, and their children are not to be visited by you with the extreme penalty of the law!

Now I, gentlemen, might almost claim that the accusations you have heard are sufficient: for I consider that an accuser ought to go no further than to show that the defendant has committed acts that merit death; since this is the extreme penalty that we have power to inflict upon him. So I doubt if there is any need to prolong one’s accusation of such men as these; for not even if they underwent two deaths for each one of their deeds could they pay the penalty in full measure.

And note that he cannot even resort to the expedient, so habitual among our citizens, of saying nothing to answer the counts of the accusation, but making other statements about themselves which at times deceive you; they represent to you that they are good soldiers, or have taken many vessels of the enemy while in command of war-ships, or have won over cities from hostility to friendship.

Why, only tell him to point out where they killed as many of our enemies as they have of our citizens, or where they took as many ships as they themselves surrendered, or what city they enlisted to compare with yours which they enslaved.

Nay, indeed, did they despoil the enemy of as many arms as they stripped from you? Did they capture fortifications to compare with those of their own country which they razed to the ground? They are the men who pulled down the forts around Attica, and made it evident to you that even in dismantling the Peiraeus they were not obeying the injunctions of the Lacedaemonians, but were thinking to make their own authority the more secure.

Sections 41–45

I have often wondered, therefore, at the audacity of those who speak in his defence, except when I reflect that the same men who commit every sort of crime are wont also to commend those who act in a similar way.

For this is not the first occasion of his working in opposition to your people in the time of the Four Hundred also, seeking to establish an oligarchy in the army, he abandoned the war-ship which he was commanding and fled from the Hellespont with Iatrocles and others whose names I have no call to mention. On his arrival here he worked in opposition to those who were promoting a democracy. I will present you with witnesses to these facts.

Witnesses

Now his life in the interval I will here pass over: but when the sea-fight took place, with the disaster that befell the city, and while we still had a democracy (at this point they started the sedition), five men were set up as overseers by the so-called club men, to be organizers of the citizens as well as chiefs of the conspirators and opponents of your common wealth; and among these were Eratosthenes and Critias.

They placed tribal governors over the tribes, and directed what measures should be passed by their votes and who were to be magistrates; and they had absolute powers for any other steps that they chose to take. Thus by the plotting, not merely of your enemies, but even of these your fellow-citizens, you were at once prevented from passing any useful measure and reduced to a serious scarcity.

For they knew perfectly well that in other conditions they could not get the upper hand, but that if you were in distress they would succeed. And they supposed that in your eagerness to be relieved of your actual hardships you would give no thought to those that were to follow.

Sections 46–50

Now, to show that he was one of the overseers, I will offer you witnesses; not the men who then acted with him,—for I could not do that,—but those who heard it from Eratosthenes himself:

yet truly, if they were sensible, they would be bearing witness against those persons, and would severely punish their instructors in transgression; instead of holding themselves bound by their oaths to the detriment of the citizens, if they were sensible they would make light of breaking those oaths for the advantage of the city. So much then, I would say in regard to them: now call my witnesses. Go up on the dais.

Witnesses

You have heard the witnesses. Finally, when he was established in power, he had a hand in no good work, but in much that was otherwise. Yet, if he was really a good man, it behoved him in the first place to decline unconstitutional powers, or else to lay information before the Council exposing the falsity of all the impeachments, and showing that Batrachus and Aeschylides, so far from giving true information, were producing as impeachments the fabrications of the Thirty, devised for the injury of the citizens.

Furthermore, gentlemen, anyone who was ill-disposed towards your people lost nothing by holding his peace: for there were other men to speak and do things of the utmost possible detriment to the city. As for the men who say they are well-disposed, how is it that they did not show it at the moment, by speaking themselves to the most salutary purpose and deterring those who were bent on mischief?

He could say, perhaps, that he was afraid, and to some of you this plea will be satisfactory. Then he must take care that he is not found to have opposed the Thirty in discussion: otherwise the fact will declare him an approver of their conduct who was, moreover, so influential that his opposition would bring him to no harm at their hands. He ought to have shown this zeal in the interest rather of your safety than of Theramenes, who has committed numerous offences against you.

Sections 51–55

No, this man considered the city his enemy, and your enemies his friends; both of these points I will maintain by many evidences, showing that their mutual disputes were not concerned with your advantage but with their own, in the contest of their two parties as to which should have the administration and control the city.

For if their quarrel had been in the cause of those who had suffered wrong, at what moment could a ruler have more gloriously displayed his own loyalty than on the seizure of Phyle by Thrasybulus? But, instead of offering or bringing some aid to the men at Phyle, he went with his partners in power to Salamis and Eleusis, and haled to prison three hundred of the citizens, and by a single resolution condemned them all to death.

After we had come to the Peiraeus, and the commotions had taken place, and the negotiations were in progress for our reconciliation, we were in good hopes on either side of a settlement between us, as both parties made evident.

For the Peiraeus party, having got the upper hand, allowed the others to move off: these went into the town, drove out the Thirty except Pheidon and Eratosthenes, and appointed their bitterest enemies as leaders, judging that the same men might fairly be expected to feel both hate for the Thirty and love for the party of the Peiraeus.

Now among these were Pheidon, Hippocles, and Epichares of the district of Lamptra, with others who were thought to be most opposed to Charicles and Critias and their club: but as soon as they in their turn were raised to power, they set up a far sharper dissension and warfare between the parties of the town and of the Peiraeus,

Sections 56–60

and thereby revealed in all clearness that their faction was not working for the Peiraeus party nor for those who were being unjustly destroyed; and that their vexation lay, not in those who had been or were about to be put to death, but in those who had greater power or were more speedily enriched.

For having got hold of their offices and the city they made war on both sides,—on the Thirty who had wrought every kind of evil, and on you who had suffered it in every way. And yet one thing was clear to all men,—that if the exile of the Thirty was just, yours was unjust while if yours was just, that of the Thirty was unjust; for it was not as answerable for some other acts that they were banished from the city, but simply for these.

It ought therefore to be a matter for the deepest resentment that Pheidon, after being chosen to reconcile and restore you, joined in the same courses as Eratosthenes and, working on the same plan, was ready enough to injure the superior members of his party on your account, but unwilling to restore the city to you who were in unjust exile: he went to Lacedaemon, and urged them to march out, insinuating that the city would be falling into the hands of the Boeotians, with other statements calculated to induce them.

Finding that he could not achieve this,—whether because the sacred signs impeded, or because the people themselves did not desire it,—he borrowed a hundred talents for the purpose of hiring auxiliaries, and asked for Lysander to be their leader, as one who was both a strong supporter of the oligarchy and a bitter foe of the city, and who felt a special hatred towards the party of the Peiraeus.

Bent on our city’s destruction, they hired all and sundry, and were enlisting the aid of cities and finally that of the Lacedaemonians and as many of their allies as they could prevail upon and thus they were preparing, not to reconcile, but to destroy the city, had it not been for some loyal men, to whom I bid you declare, by exacting requital from your enemies, that they no less will get your grateful reward.

Sections 61–65

But these facts you comprehend of yourselves, and I doubt if I need provide any witnesses. Some, however, I will; for not only am I in need of a rest, but some of you will prefer to hear the same statements from as many persons as possible.

Witnesses

By your leave, I will inform you also about Theramenes, as briefly as I can. I request you to listen, both in my own interest, and in that of the city; and one thing let no one imagine,—that I am accusing Theramenes when it is Eratosthenes who is on his trial. For I am told that he will plead in defence that he was that man’s friend, and took part in the same acts.

Why, I suppose, if he had been in the government with Themistocles he would have been loud in claiming that he worked for the construction of the walls, when he claims that he worked with Theramenes for their demolition? For I do not see that there is any parity of merit between them. The one constructed the walls against the wish of the Lacedaemonians, whereas the other demolished them by beguilement of the citizens.

Thus the reverse of what was to be expected has overtaken the city. For the friends of Theramenes deserved no less to perish with him, except such as might be found acting in opposition to him: but here I see them referring their defence to him, and we have his associates attempting to win credit as though he had been the author of many benefits, and not of grievous injuries.

He, first of all, was chiefly responsible for the former oligarchy, by having prompted your choice of the government of the Four Hundred. His father, who was one of the Commissioners, was active in the same direction, while he himself, being regarded as a strong supporter of the system, was appointed general by the party.

Sections 66–70

So long as he found favour, he showed himself loyal; but when he saw Peisander, Callaeschrus and others getting in advance of him, and your people no longer disposed to hearken to them, immediately his jealousy of them, combined with his fear of you, threw him into co-operation with Aristocrates.

Desiring to be reputed loyal to your people, he accused Antiphon and Archeptolemus, his best friends, and had them put to death; and such was the depth of his villainy that, to make credit with those men, he enslaved you, while also, to make credit with you, he destroyed his friends.

Held in favour and the highest estimation, he who by his own choice offered to save the city, by his own choice destroyed it, asserting that he had discovered a capital and most valuable expedient. He undertook to arrange a peace without giving any hostages or demolishing the walls or surrendering the ships: he would tell nobody what it was, but bade them trust him.

And you, men of Athens, while the Council of the Areopagus were working for your safety, and many voices were heard in opposition to Theramenes, were aware that, though other people keep secrets to baffle the enemy, he refused to mention amongst his own fellow citizens what he was going to tell the enemy: yet nevertheless you entrusted to him your country, your children, your wives and yourselves.

Not one of the things that he undertook did he perform, but was so intent on his object of subduing and crippling the city that he induced you to do things which none of the enemy had ever mentioned nor any of the citizens had expected: under no compulsion from the Lacedaemonians, but of his own accord, he promised them the dismantling of the Peiraeus walls and the subversion of the established constitution; for well he knew that, if you were not utterly bereft of your hopes, you would be quick to retaliate upon him.

Sections 71–75

Finally, gentlemen, he kept the Assembly from meeting until the moment mentioned by the enemy had been carefully watched for by him, and he had sent for Lysander’s ships from Samos, and the enemy’s forces were quartered in the town.

And now, with matters thus arranged, and in the presence of Lysander, Philochares and Miltiades, they called the Assembly to a debate on the constitution, when no orator could either oppose them or awe them with threats, while you, instead of choosing the course most advantageous to the city, could only vote in favour of their views.

Theramenes arose, and bade you entrust the city to thirty men, and apply the system propounded by Dracontides. But you, not withstanding your awkward plight, showed by your uproar that you would not do as he proposed for you realized that you had to choose between slavery and freedom in the Assembly that day.

Theramenes, a gentlemen (I shall cite your own selves as witnesses to this), said that he recked naught of your uproar, since he knew of many Athenians who were promoting the same kind of scheme as himself, and that his advice had the approval of Lysander and the Lacedaemonians. After him Lysander arose and said, when he had spoken at some length, that he held you guilty of breaking the truce, and that it must be a question, not of your constitution, but of your lives, if you refused to do as Theramenes demanded.

Then all the good citizens in the Assembly, perceiving the plot that had been hatched for their compulsion, either remained there and kept quiet, or took themselves off, conscious at least of this,—that they had voted nothing harmful to the city. But some few, of base nature and noxious counsels, raised their hands in favour of the commands that had been given.

Sections 76–80

For the order had been passed to them that they were to elect ten men whom Theramenes indicated, ten more whom the overseers, just appointed, should demand, and ten from amongst those present. They were so aware of your weakness, and so sure of their own power, that they knew beforehand what would be transacted in the Assembly.

For this you should rely, not on my word, but on that of Theramenes; since everything that I have mentioned was stated by him in his defence before the Council, when he reproached the exiles with the fact that they owed their restoration to him, and not to any consideration shown by the Lacedaemonians, and reproached also his partners in the government with this,—that although he had been himself responsible for all that had been transacted in the manner that I have described, he was treated in this fashion,—he who had given them many pledges by his actions, and to whom they were plighted by their oaths.

And it is for this man, responsible as we find him for all these and other injuries and ignominies, late as well as early, great as well as small, that they are going to have the audacity to proclaim their friendship; for Theramenes, who has suffered death, not as your champion, but as the victim of his own baseness, and has been justly punished under the oligarchy—he had already caused its ruin—as he would justly have been under democracy. Twice over did he enslave you, despising what was present, and longing for what was absent, and, while giving them the fairest name, setting himself up as instructor in most monstrous acts.

Well, I have dealt sufficiently with Theramenes in my accusation. You now have reached the moment in which your thoughts must have no room for pardon or for pity; when you must punish Eratosthenes and his partners in power. You should not show your superiority to the city’s foes in your fighting merely to show your inferiority to your own enemies in your voting.

Nor must you feel more gratitude to them for what they say that they mean to do than anger for what they have done; nor, while taking your measures against the Thirty in their absence, acquit them in their presence; nor in your own rescue be more lax than fortune who has delivered these men into the hands of the city.

Sections 81–85

Such is the accusation against Eratosthenes and those friends of his, on whom he will fall back in his defence, as his abettors in these practices. Yet it is an unequal contest between the city and Eratosthenes: for whereas he was at once accuser and judge of the persons brought to trial, we to-day are parties engaged in accusation and defence.

And whereas these men put people to death untried who were guilty of no wrong, you think fit to try according to law the persons who destroyed the city, and whose punishment by you, even if unlawfully devised, would still be inadequate to the wrongs that they have committed against the city. For what would they have to suffer, if their punishment should be adequate to their actions?

If you put them and their children to death, should we sufficiently punish them for the murder of our fathers, sons and brothers whom they put to death untried? Or again, if you confiscated their material property, would this be compensation either to the city for all that they have taken from her, or to individuals for the houses that they pillaged?

Since therefore, whatever you might do, you could not exact from them an adequate penalty, would it not be shameful of you to disallow any possible sort of penalty that a man might desire to exact from these persons? But, I believe, he would have the audacity for anything, when he has come here today, before judges who are no other than the very persons who have been maltreated, to submit his defence to the actual witnesses of the man’s own villainy: so profound is either the contempt that he has conceived for you or the confidence that he has placed in others.

For both possibilities you ought to be on the watch, reflecting that, as they would have been unable to do what they did without the cooperation of others, so they would not now have ventured into court unless they expected to be saved by those same persons who have come here, not to support these men, but in the belief that there will be a general indemnity alike for their past actions and for whatever they may want to do in the future, if you let slip from your grasp the authors of our direst misery.

Sections 86–90

But you may well wonder, besides, whether those who intend to take their part will petition you in the character of loyal gentlemen, making out that their own merit outweighs the villainy of these men,—though I could have wished them as zealous for the salvation of the State as these men were for its destruction, or whether they will rely on their skilful oratory for putting in a defence and making out that the actions of their friends are estimable. Yet on your behalf not one of them has ever attempted to mention merely your just rights.

Now it is worth observing how the witnesses, in testifying for these men, accuse themselves: they take you to be singularly forgetful and simple, if they believe that by means of you, the people, they will save the Thirty with impunity, when owing to Eratosthenes and his partners in power it was dangerous even to conduct funerals of the dead.

Yet these men, if they escape, will be able again to destroy the city; whereas those whom they destroyed, having lost their lives, can no longer look for satisfaction from their enemies. Then is it not monstrous that the friends of those who have been unjustly put to death were destroyed with them, and yet the very men who destroyed the city will have many people, I imagine, to conduct their funerals, since so many are making efforts to shield them?

Moreover, I am sure it was far easier to speak in opposition to them on the subject of your sufferings than it is now in defence of what they have done. We are told, indeed, that of the Thirty Eratosthenes has done the least harm, and it is claimed that on this ground he should escape; but is it not felt that for having committed more offences against you than all the other Greeks he ought to be destroyed?

It is for you to show what view you take of those practices. If you condemn this man, you will declare your indignation at the things that have been done; but if you acquit him, you will be recognized as aspirants to the same conduct as theirs, and you will be unable to say that you are carrying out the injunctions of the Thirty,

Sections 91–95

since nobody today is compelling you to vote against your judgement. So I counsel you not to condemn yourselves by acquitting them. Nor should you suppose that your voting is in secret for you will make your judgement manifest to the city.

But before I step down, I desire to recall a few facts to the minds of both parties that of the town and that of the Peiraeus—in order that you may take warning from the disasters brought upon you through the agency of these men, before you give your vote. In the first place, all you of the town party should consider that you were so oppressed by the rule of these men that you were compelled to wage against your brothers, your sons and your fellow-citizens a strange warfare in which your defeat has given you equal rights with the victors, whereas your victory would have made you the slaves of these men.

They have enlarged their private establishments by means of their public conduct, while you find your’s reduced by your warfare against each other: for they did not permit you to share their advantages, though they compelled you to share their ill-fame; and they carried disdain so far that, instead of enlisting your fidelity by a communication of their benefits, they thought to ensure your sympathy by a partnership in their scandals.

In return, now that you feel secure, go to the limit of your powers, on your own behalf as on that of the Peiraeus party, in taking your vengeance. Reflect that in these men you found the most villainous of rulers; reflect that you now have the best men with you in tenure of our civic rights, in fighting the enemy, and in deliberating on affairs of State and remember the auxiliaries whom these men stationed in the Acropolis as guardians of their dominion and of your slavery.

I have much else to say to you, but I will say no more. And all you of the Peiraeus party, remember first the matter of the arms,—how after fighting many battles on foreign soil you were deprived of your arms, not by the enemy, but by these men, in a time of peace; and next, that you were formally banished from the city which your fathers bequeathed to you, and when you were in exile they demanded your persons from the various cities.

Sections 96–100

In return you should feel the same anger as when you were exiles, and remember besides the other injuries that you suffered from these men, who with violent hands snatched some from the market-place, and some from the temples, and put them to death; while others they tore from their children, their parents and their wives, and compelled to self-slaughter, and then did not even allow them to be given the customary burial, conceiving their own authority to be proof against the vengeance of Heaven.

As many as escaped death encountered danger in many places, and wandered to many cities, and were banished from each refuge: in want of subsistence, having left behind you your children either in your native land, now turned hostile, or else on foreign soil, you came, despite many adversities, to the Peiraeus. Beset by many great perils, you proved yourselves men of true valor, and liberated one party while restoring the other to their native land.

If you had been unfortunate, and had failed of these achievements, in your turn you would have gone into exile through fear of more afflictions like the past, and owing to the methods of these men you would have found no shelter from your wrongs in either temples or altars, where even wrongdoers are secure. Of your children, as many as were here would have been foully assaulted by these men, while those in foreign parts would have been enslaved for petty debts, cut off from all possible assistance.

But I have no wish to speak of things that might have befallen, when I find myself unable to recount what these men have actually done: that is a task, not for one accuser, nor for two, but for many. Nevertheless, of zeal on my part there has been no lack in defence of the temples which these men have either sold or defiled by their presence; in defence of the city which they abased; on behalf of the arsenals, which they demolished; and on behalf of the dead, whom you were unable to protect in life, and must therefore vindicate in death.

I fancy that they are listening to us, and will know you by the vote that you give; they will feel that those of you who acquit these men will have passed sentence of death on them, while those who inflict the merited penalty will have acted as their avengers. I will here conclude my accusation. You have heard, you have seen, you have suffered; you have them: give judgement.

Contents — 10 sections

1. Sections 1–5
2. Sections 6–10
3. Sections 11–15
4. Sections 16–20
5. Sections 21–25
6. Sections 26–30
7. Sections 31–35
8. Sections 36–40
9. Sections 41–45
10. Sections 46–50

Sections 1–5

I should be only too pleased, sirs, to have you so disposed towards me in judging this case as you would be to yourselves, if you found yourselves in my plight. For I am sure that, if you had the same feelings about others as about yourselves, not one of you but would be indignant at what has been done; you would all regard the penalties appointed for those who resort to such practices as too mild.

And these feelings would be found, not only among you, but in the whole of Greece: for in the case of this crime alone, under both democracy and oligarchy, the same requital is accorded to the weakest against the strongest, so that the lowest gets the same treatment as the highest. Thus you see, sirs, how all men abominate this outrage.

Well, I conceive that, in regard to the severity of the penalty, you are all of the same mind, and that not one of you is so easygoing as to think it right that men who are guilty of such acts should obtain pardon, or to presume that slight penalties suffice for their deserts.

But I take it, sirs, that what I have to show is that Eratosthenes had an intrigue with my wife, and not only corrupted her but inflicted disgrace upon my children and an outrage on myself by entering my house; that this was the one and only enmity between him and me; that I have not acted thus for the sake of money, so as to raise myself from poverty to wealth; and that all I seek to gain is the requital accorded by our laws.

I shall therefore set forth to you the whole of my story from the beginning; I shall omit nothing, but will tell the truth. For I consider that my own sole deliverance rests on my telling you, if I am able, the whole of what has occurred.

Sections 6–10

When I, Athenians, decided to marry, and brought a wife into my house, for some time I was disposed neither to vex her nor to leave her too free to do just as she pleased; I kept a watch on her as far as possible, with such observation of her as was reasonable. But when a child was born to me, thence-forward I began to trust her, and placed all my affairs in her hands, presuming that we were now in perfect intimacy.

It is true that in the early days, Athenians, she was the most excellent of wives; she was a clever, frugal housekeeper, and kept everything in the nicest order. But as soon as I lost my mother, her death became the cause of all my troubles.

For it was in attending her funeral that my wife was seen by this man, who in time corrupted her. He looked out for the servant-girl who went to market, and so paid addresses to her mistress by which he wrought her ruin.

Now in the first place I must tell you, sirs (for I am obliged to give you these particulars), my dwelling is on two floors, the upper being equal in space to the lower, with the women’s quarters above and the men’s below. When the child was born to us, its mother suckled it; and in order that, each time that it had to be washed, she might avoid the risk of descending by the stairs, I used to live above, and the women below.

By this time it had become such an habitual thing that my wife would often leave me and go down to sleep with the child, so as to be able to give it the breast and stop its crying. Things went on in this way for a long time, and I never suspected, but was simple-minded enough to suppose that my own was the chastest wife in the city.

Sections 11–15

Time went on, sirs; I came home unexpectedly from the country, and after dinner the child started crying in a peevish way, as the servant-girl was annoying it on purpose to make it so behave; for the man was in the house—

I learnt it all later. So I bade my wife go and give the child her breast, to stop its howling. At first she refused, as though delighted to see me home again after so long; but when I began to be angry and bade her go, —Yes, so that you, she said, may have a try here at the little maid. Once before, too, when you were drunk, you pulled her about.

At that I laughed, while she got up, went out of the room, and closed the door, feigning to make fun, and she took the key away with her. I, without giving a thought to the matter, or having any suspicion, went to sleep in all content after my return from the country.

Towards daytime she came and opened the door. I asked why the doors made a noise in the night; she told me that the child’s lamp had gone out, and she had lit it again at our neighbor’s. I was silent and believed it was so. But it struck me, sirs, that she had powdered her face, though her brother had died not thirty days before; even so, however, I made no remark on the fact, but left the house in silence.

After this, sirs, an interval occurred in which I was left quite unaware of my own injuries; I was then accosted by a certain old female, who was secretly sent by a woman with whom that man was having an intrigue, as I heard later. This woman was angry with him and felt herself wronged, because he no longer visited her so regularly, and she was keeping a watch on him until she should discover what was the cause.

Sections 16–20

So the old creature accosted me where she was on the look-out, near my house, and said,—Euphiletus, do not think it is from any meddlesomeness that I have approached you; for the man who is working both your and your wife’s dishonor happens to be our enemy. If, therefore, you take the servant-girl who goes to market and waits on you, and torture her, you will learn all. It is, she said, Eratosthenes of Oë who is doing this; he has debauched not only your wife, but many others besides; he makes an art of it.

With these words, sirs, she took herself off; I was at once perturbed; all that had happened came into my mind, and I was filled with suspicion,—reflecting first how I was shut up in my chamber, and then remembering how on that night the inner and outer doors made a noise, which had never occurred before, and how it struck me that my wife had put on powder. All these things came into my mind, and I was filled with suspicion.

Returning home, I bade the servant-girl follow me to the market, and taking her to the house of an intimate friend, I told her I was fully informed of what was going on in my house: So it is open to you, I said, to choose as you please between two things,—either to be whipped and thrown into a mill, and to be irrevocably immersed in that sort of misery, or else to speak out the whole truth and, instead of suffering any harm, obtain my pardon for your transgressions. Tell no lies, but speak the whole truth.

The girl at first denied it, and bade me do what I pleased, for she knew nothing; but when I mentioned Eratosthenes to her, and said that he was the man who visited my wife, she was dismayed, supposing that I had exact knowledge of everything. At once she threw herself down at my knees, and having got my pledge that she should suffer no harm,

she accused him, first, of approaching her after the funeral, and then told how at last she became his messenger; how my wife in time was persuaded, and by what means she procured his entrances, and how at the Thesmophoria, while I was in the country, she went off to the temple with his mother. And the girl gave an exact account of everything else that had occurred.

Sections 21–25

When her tale was all told, I said,—Well now, see that nobody in the world gets knowledge of this; otherwise, nothing in your arrangement with me will hold good. And I require that you show me their guilt in the very act; I want no words, but manifestation of the fact, if it really is so. She agreed to do this.

Then came an interval of four or five days [...] as I shall bring strong evidence to show. But first I wish to relate what took place on the last day. I had an intimate friend named Sostratus. After sunset I met him coming from the country. As I knew that, arriving at that hour, he would find none of his circle at home, I invited him to dine with me; we came to my house, mounted to the upper room, and had dinner.

When he had made a good meal, he left me and departed; then I went to bed. Eratosthenes, sirs, entered, and the maid-servant roused me at once, and told me that he was in the house. Bidding her look after the door, I descended and went out in silence; I called on one friend and another, and found some of them at home, while others were out of town.

I took with me as many as I could among those who were there, and so came along. Then we got torches from the nearest shop, and went in; the door was open, as the girl had it in readiness. We pushed open the door of the bedroom, and the first of us to enter were in time to see him lying down by my wife; those who followed saw him standing naked on the bed.

I gave him a blow, sirs, which knocked him down, and pulling round his two hands behind his back, and tying them, I asked him why he had the insolence to enter my house. He admitted his guilt; then he besought and implored me not to kill him, but to exact a sum of money.

Sections 26–30

To this I replied, It is not I who am going to kill you, but our city’s law, which you have transgressed and regarded as of less account than your pleasures, choosing rather to commit this foul offence against my wife and my children than to obey the laws like a decent person.

Thus it was, sirs, that this man incurred the fate that the laws ordain for those who do such things; he had not been dragged in there from the street, nor had he taken refuge at my hearth, as these people say. For how could it be so, when it was in the bedroom that he was struck and fell down then and there, and I pinioned his arms, and so many persons were in the house that he could not make his escape, as he had neither steel nor wood nor anything else with which he might have beaten off those who had entered?

But, sirs, I think you know as well as I that those whose acts are against justice do not acknowledge that their enemies speak the truth, but lie themselves and use other such devices to foment anger in their hearers against those whose acts are just. So, first read the law.

Law He did not dispute it, sirs: he acknowledged his guilt, and besought and implored that he might not be killed, and was ready to pay compensation in money. But I would not agree to his estimate, as I held that our city’s law should have higher authority; and I obtained that satisfaction which you deemed most just when you imposed it on those who adopt such courses. Now, let my witnesses come forward in support of these statements.

Witnesses Read out also, please, that law from the pillar in the Areopagus.

Law You hear, sirs, how the Court of the Areopagus itself, to which has been assigned, in our own as in our fathers’ time, the trial of suits for murder, has expressly stated that whoever takes this vengeance on an adulterer caught in the act with his spouse shall not be convicted of murder.

Sections 31–35

And so strongly was the lawgiver convinced of the justice of this in the case of wedded wives, that he even applied the same penalty in the case of mistresses, who are of less account. Now surely it is clear that, if he had had any heavier punishment than this for the case of married women, he would have imposed it. But in fact, as he was unable to devise a severer one for this case, he ordained that it should be the same for that of mistresses also. Please read this law besides.

Law You hear, sirs, how it directs that, if anyone forcibly debauches a free adult or child, he shall be liable to double damages; while if he so debauches a woman, in one of the cases where it is permitted to kill him, he is subject to the same rule. Thus the lawgiver, sirs, considered that those who use force deserve a less penalty than those who use persuasion; for the latter he condemned to death, whereas for the former he doubled the damages,

considering that those who achieve their ends by force are hated by the persons forced; while those who used persuasion corrupted thereby their victims’ souls, thus making the wives of others more closely attached to themselves than to their husbands, and got the whole house into their hands, and caused uncertainty as to whose the children really were, the husbands’ or the adulterers’. In view of all this the author of the law made death their penalty.

Wherefore I, sirs, not only stand acquitted of wrongdoing by the laws, but am also directed by them to take this satisfaction: it is for you to decide whether they are to be valid or of no account.

For to my thinking every city makes its laws in order that on any matter which perplexes us we may resort to them and inquire what we have to do. And so it is they who, in cases like the present, exhort the wronged parties to obtain this kind of satisfaction.

Sections 36–40

I call upon you to support their opinion: otherwise, you will be giving adulterers such licence that you will encourage thieves as well to call themselves adulterers; since they will feel assured that, if they plead this reason in their defence, and allege that they enter other men’s houses for this purpose, nobody will touch them. For everyone will know that the laws on adultery are to be given the go-by, and that it is your vote that one has to fear, because this has supreme authority over all the city’s affairs.

Do but consider, sirs, what they say: they accuse me of ordering the maid-servant on that day to go and fetch the young man. Now I, sirs, could have held myself justified in using any possible means to catch the corrupter of my wife.

For if I had bidden the girl fetch him, when words alone had been spoken and no act had been committed, I should have been in the wrong: but if, when once he had compassed all his ends, and had frequently entered my house, I had then used any possible means to catch him, I should have considered myself quite in order.

And observe how on this point also they are lying: you will perceive it easily in this way. As I told you, sirs, before, Sostratus was a friend of mine, on intimate terms with me; he met me as he came from the country about sunset, and had dinner with me, and when he had made a good meal he left me and departed. Now in the first place, sirs, you must bear this in mind:

if on that night I had designs on Eratosthenes, which was more to my advantage, —to go and take my dinner elsewhere, or to bring in my guest to dinner with me? For in the latter case that man would have been less likely to venture on entering my house. And in the second place, do you suppose that I should have let my dinner guest go and leave me there alone and unsupported, and not rather have bidden him stay, in order that he might stand by me in taking vengeance upon the adulterer?

Sections 41–45

Then again, sirs, do you not think that I should have sent word to my intimate acquaintances in the daytime, and bidden them assemble at the house of one of my friends living nearest to me, rather than have waited till the moment of making my discovery to run round in the night, without knowing whom I should find at home, and who were away? Thus I called on Harmodius, and one other, who were not in town —of this I was not aware—and others, I found, were not in; but those whom I could I took along with me.

Yet if I had foreknown this, do you not think that I should have called up servants and passed the word to my friends, in order that I might have gone in myself with all possible safety, —for how could I tell whether he too had some weapon? —and so I might have had as many witnesses as possible with me when I took my vengeance? But as in fact I knew nothing of what was to befall on that night, I took with me those whom I could. Now let my witnesses come forward in support of all this.

Witnesses You have heard the witnesses, sirs; and consider this affair further in your own minds, asking yourselves whether any enmity has ever arisen before this between me and Eratosthenes.

I say you will discover none. For he had neither subjected me to slanderous impeachment, nor attempted to expel me from the city, nor brought any private suit against me, nor was he privy to any wrongdoing which I was so afraid of being divulged that I was intent on his destruction, nor, should I accomplish this, had I any hope of getting money from anywhere: for there are people who plot each other’s death for such purposes.

So far, indeed, from either abuse or a drunken brawl or any other quarrel having occurred between us, I had never even seen the man before that night. For what object, then, should I run so grave a risk, unless I had received from him the greatest of injuries?

Sections 46–50

Why, again, did I choose to summon witnesses for my wicked act, when it was open to me, if I was thus criminally intent on his destruction, to have none of them privy to it?

I therefore, sirs, do not regard this requital as having been exacted in my own private interest, but in that of the whole city. For those who behave in that way, when they see the sort of reward that is in store for such transgressions, will be less inclined to trespass against their neighbors, if they see that you also take the same view.

Otherwise it were better far to erase our established laws, and ordain others which will inflict the penalties on men who keep watch on their own wives, and will allow full immunity to those who would debauch them.

This would be a far more just way than to let the citizens be entrapped by the laws; these may bid a man, on catching an adulterer, to deal with him in whatever way he pleases, but the trials are found to be more dangerous to the wronged parties than to those who, in defiance of the laws, dishonor the wives of others.

For I am now risking the loss of life, property and all else that I have, because I obeyed the city’s laws.

Contents — 10 sections

1. Sections 1–5
2. Sections 6–10
3. Sections 11–15
4. Sections 16–20
5. Sections 21–25
6. Sections 26–30
7. Sections 31–35
8. Sections 36–40
9. Sections 41–45
10. Sections 46–48

Sections 1–5

Although I was aware of much that was outrageous about Simon, gentlemen of the Council, I did not believe that he would ever have carried audacity to the pitch of lodging a complaint as the injured party to a case where he was the person who should be punished, and of taking that great and solemn affidavit and so coming before you.

Now if it were any other court that was to make a decision upon me, I should be terrified by the danger, considering what strange machinations and chances occur at times to cause a variety of surprises to those who are standing their trial: but as it is before you that I appear, I hope to obtain justice.

What especially vexes me, gentlemen, is that I shall be compelled to speak to you of the facts of this case: for it was my feeling of shame at the mere thought of these becoming widely known that made me put up with my wrongs. But since Simon has placed me in such a necessity, I will relate to you the whole of the facts without the slightest reserve.

If I am guilty, gentlemen, I expect to get no indulgence; but if I prove my innocence as regards the counts of Simon’s affidavit, while for the rest you consider my attitude towards the boy too senseless for a man of my age, I ask you not to think the worse of me for that, since you know that all mankind are liable to desire, but that he may be the best and most temperate who is able to bear its misfortunes in the most orderly spirit. All my efforts in this way have been thwarted by the plaintiff Simon, as I shall make clear to you.

We felt desire, gentlemen, for Theodotus, a Plataean boy; and while I looked to win his affection by kindness, this man thought by outrage and defiance of the law to compel him to accede to his wishes. To tell all the ill-treatment that the boy has suffered from him would be a lengthy business: but I think it proper that you should hear the numerous offences he has committed against myself.

Sections 6–10

Hearing that the boy was at my house, he came there at night in a drunken state, broke down the doors, and entered the women’s rooms: within were my sister and my nieces, whose lives have been so well-ordered that they are ashamed to be seen even by their kinsmen.

This man, then, carried insolence to such a pitch that he refused to go away until the people who appeared on the spot, and those who had accompanied him, feeling it a monstrous thing that he should intrude on young girls and orphans, drove him out by force. Far from repenting of his outrageous proceedings, he found out where we were dining, and acted in the strangest, the most incredible manner, as it might seem to those unacquainted with his madness.

He called me out of doors, and, as soon as I went outside, made an immediate attempt to strike me. When I beat him off, he stood out of reach and began pelting me with stones. He missed me, but Aristocritus, who had accompanied him to my house, was struck by a stone which broke his forehead.

So I, gentlemen, feeling myself grossly ill-used, but ashamed—as I have already told you before—at my misfortune, put up with it, and preferred to go without satisfaction for the offences rather than be thought lacking in sense by the citizens: for I knew that, while his actions would be found appropriate to his wickedness, I should be derided for the treatment I received by a number of people who are in the habit of resenting my ambition that one may show for a good standing in the city.

I was so perplexed, gentlemen, in face of this man’s lawless behavior, that I decided that it would be best for me to reside abroad. So I took the boy (since the whole truth must be told), and left the city. When I thought it was time enough for Simon to have forgotten the young fellow, and also to have repented of his former offences, I came back again.

Sections 11–15

I betook myself to the Peiraeus; but this man, observing immediately that Theodotus had arrived and was staying with Lysimachus,—who lived hard by the house that this man had rented—invited some of his friends to join him: they all had luncheon and drank, and they posted watchers on the roof so that,when the boy should come out, they might seize upon him.

At this moment I arrived from the Peiraeus, and in passing I turned into Lysimachus’s house: after spending some little time there, we came out. Then those people, already drunk, sprang out upon us; some of his party refused to join in his criminal action, but Simon here, and Theophilus, Protarchus and Autocles began dragging the boy along. He, however, flung off his cloak and ran away.

Then I, expecting that he would make good his escape, while they, if they met anybody, would at once turn aside from a feeling of shame,— with this conclusion I took myself off by another street; so careful I was to give them a wide berth, for I regarded all the proceedings of these men as a grievous misfortune to myself.

Thus, on the spot where Simon says that the fight occurred, nobody on either their or my side had his head broken or received any other hurt: as witnesses to all this I will produce to you the persons who were then present.

Witnesses That this man, then, was the wrongdoer, gentlemen, and that he had designs on us, and not I on him, has been testified to you by those who were then present. After this the boy took refuge in a fuller’s shop; but these men dashed in after him and laid violent hands on him, while he shouted and cried out and called the bystanders to witness.

Sections 16–20

A crowd of people came running up, and protested against their action, which they declared a monstrous proceeding: these men gave no heed to anything that was said, but gave a severe beating to Molon the fuller and some others who were endeavoring to protect the lad.

They had already got as far as Lampon’s when I, walking by myself, met with them; and considering it a monstrous and shameful thing to stand by and see the young fellow subjected to such lawless and violent outrage, I seized hold of him. They, when asked why they were treating him in such lawless fashion, refused to answer, but letting the young fellow go they began to beat me.

A battle ensued, gentlemen; the boy was pelting them and defending his person, while they were pelting us; they also, in their do.drunkenness, were beating him and I was defending myself, and the others present were all supporting. us, as being the injured party; and in this brawl we all of us got our heads broken.

The others whom Simon had led into this drunken assault, at their first sight of me after the affair begged my pardon, as men who, so far from suffering injury, had acted in a monstrous way; and though since that time four years have elapsed, nobody has ever brought any charge against me.

Simon here, who was the author of all the trouble, kept quiet for some time, in fear for himself; but when he became aware that I had failed in a private suit on a challenge to an exchange of property, he conceived a contempt for me and, with the audacity that you now see, has involved me in this serious prosecution. Now, as witnesses to show that here too I am speaking the truth, I will produce to you the persons who were present on the occasion.

Sections 21–25

Witnesses So now you have heard from the witnesses as well as myself the story of what took place; and I could wish, gentlemen, that Simon had the same intentions as I, so that after hearing the truth from us both you might have arrived with ease at the just decision. But since he cares nothing for the oaths that he has sworn, I will try also to inform you concerning the lies that he has told.

He had the audacity to state that on his part he had given three hundred drachmae to Theodotus, under an agreement made with him, and that I by intrigue seduced the boy from him. And yet, if this was true, it was for him to summon as many witnesses as he could and pursue the matter in accordance with our laws.

But it does not appear that he has ever done anything of the sort, but only that he has outraged and beaten us both, and has revelled and broken in doors and intruded on free women by night.

You ought to take all this, gentlemen, as primary proof that he is lying to you. And then, consider how incredible his statements are. He has valued his property altogether at two hundred and fifty drachmae: yet how surprising that he should hire his companion for more than he himself in fact possesses!

And he has carried audacity to such lengths that it does not suffice him merely to lie about this matter of having given the money, but he even says that he has recovered it! Yet how is it likely that I first committed such a crime as he has laid to my charge—of seeking to deprive him of his three hundred dracmae— and then, after we had had our affray, paid him back the money, without either obtaining a quittance of all claims or being subjected to any compulsion?

Sections 26–30

Why, gentlemen, this is all mere invention and artifice of his: he says that he gave it, so as to avoid the scandal of daring to commit such an outrage on the lad without any bargain struck between them; and he pretends that he has got it back, because it is clear that he never laid a claim to money or made the least mention of the matter.

He says that I gave him a beating at the door of his house, which left him in a terrible state. But we find that he pursued the boy for more than four stades from his house with no sign of injury, and I this he denies, although it was seen by more than two hundred people.

He states that we went to his house with potsherds in our hands, and that I threatened to kill him, and that this is premeditation. But I think that this lie of his, gentlemen, is easily detected, not only by you who are used to investigating this sort of case, but by everyone else as well.

For who can find it credible that by a premeditated manoeuvre I went to Simon’s house after daybreak with the boy, when so many people had gathered about him, unless I had become so utterly insane as to be eager to fight them all single— handed; especially when I knew that he would have been delighted to see me at his door,—he who in fact kept coming to my house, and entered it by force, and, disregarding both my sister and my nieces, had the audacity to seek me out, and having discovered where I happened to be dining called me out and beat me?

And so, as it seems, I, who at first, to avoid notoriety, kept quiet, taking this man’s wickedness to be so much misfortune to myself, was yet after a lapse of time, as he says, converted to a desire for notoriety!

Sections 31–35

Now if the boy had been living with him, there could be some show of reason in his lie that I was driven by my desire to an act of quite improbable folly: but the fact is that the boy would not even talk to him, but hated him more than anyone in the world, and was actually living with me.

So who of you can believe that I previously left the city on a voyage with the boy to avoid a fight with this man, and then, when I had got back, I took him to Simon’s house, where I was to expect most embarrassment?

And though I had designs on him, I came utterly unprepared, without calling to my aid either friends or servants or anybody at all, save only this child, who would have been unable to support me, but was capable of giving information under torture upon any crime that I might commit!

But such was the depth of my stupidity that, having my design against Simon, I did not look out for him where he might be caught alone, whether by night or by day, but went to the place where I should find most people to see me and cut me to pieces, as though I were contriving my premeditation against myself, with a view to getting the utmost amount of outrage from my enemies!

And besides, gentlemen, from the very fight that took place you can easily perceive that he lies. When the boy saw what was on hand, he flung off his cloak and ran away: these men pursued him, while I took myself off by another street.

Sections 36–40

Now which party should be held responsible for such affairs, those who flee, or those who seek to capture? In my opinion it is obvious to all that those flee who are in fear for themselves, and those pursue who mean to do some hurt.

And this is not a case of a probable thing having turned out otherwise in fact: no, they caught the boy and were dragging him by force out of his way, when I met them, and without touching these men I took hold of the boy; whereas they not only dragged him by force, but also beat me. All this has been testified to you by those who were present. So it will be extraordinary if I am held to have premeditated any of those things wherein these men are found to have so monstrously transgressed the laws.

How, pray, should I have been treated, if the case I were the opposite of what has now occurred; if I, with a number of my associates had gone to meet Simon, and fought with him, beaten him, pursued and caught him, and then tried to drag him by force, if, as it is, and when it is he who has done all these things, I have been subjected to proceedings like the present, in which I risk the loss of both my native land and all the property that I possess?

But here is the strongest and most striking proof of all: the man who was wronged and victimized by me—as he says—did not dare for four years to denounce me before you. Everyone else, when in love, and deprived of the object of desire, and battered with blows, immediately in his anger seeks redress; but this man seeks it long afterwards.

So, gentlemen, that I am not to blame for any of these occurrences has, I conceive, been sufficiently proved. And observe the spirit in which I treat quarrels arising from this sort of affair: although I had suffered a variety of outrages at Simon’s hands, and had even had my head broken by him, I could not bring myself to denounce him, as I felt it extravagant, just because of a mutual rivalry over a child, to press for a man’s expulsion from his native land.

Sections 41–45

Besides, I did not see that there was any premeditation of wounding in the case of a man who gave a wound without meaning to kill. For who is so simple as to premeditate a long time ahead how some enemy of his shall come by a wound?

Why, it is clear that even the makers of our laws did not think well, when people happened in a fight to break each other’s heads, to make it a case for banishment from their country; else they would have exiled a goodly number. But in the case of any persons who, designing to kill, wounded others without being able to kill them, they appointed the punishment in that degree of severity, judging it meet that where they had shown design and premeditation they should pay the penalty: though if they might not have succeeded, none the less their best efforts had been exerted.

And in this way you have decided, many a time in the past, on this point of premeditation. Extraordinary, indeed, it would be, if in all cases of wounds received through some drunken rivalry, or game, or abuse, or in a fight for a mistress,—affairs of which everyone repents on better consideration,—you are to inflict a punishment of such awful severity as that of expelling any of our citizens from their native land.

I wonder most of all at this man’s temperament. For it does not seem to me that the same person can be both a lover and a slanderer, since the former implies the simpler sort of man, and the latter the most villainous. I could wish that I were allowed to expose this man’s wickedness before you in all its other effects, so that you might understand how in justice he ought far rather to be on trial for his life than bringing others into peril of losing their native land.

I will, however, pass over all those things, and will mention not one which I consider you ought to hear, as being a sure proof of his brazen-faced audacity. In Corinth, where he arrived after our battle with the enemy and the expedition to Coronea he fought with the taxiarch Laches and gave him a beating; and when the citizens had set forth in full military strength, he was specially noted for insubordination and knavery, and was the only Athenian ordered by the generals to be banned by herald.

Sections 46–48

I could go on to relate many other things regarding this man; but, since it is not lawful to speak in your court beyond the limits of the case, I ask you to reflect on this: it was these men who forced their way into our house, they who pursued us, and they who forcibly seized and dragged us out of our path.

Remembering these things, give your vote for justice, and do not suffer me to be unjustly ejected from my native land, for which I have braved many dangers and performed many public services: no harm have I ever brought upon that land, nor has any of my ancestors; nay, many are the benefits that we have brought her.

Justly, then, should I receive your pity, and that of all men else, not merely if I should meet with such a fate as Simon wishes, but even for having been compelled, as a result of such transactions, to stand my trial on such a charge.

Contents — 9 sections

1. Sections 1–5
2. Sections 6–10
3. Sections 11–15
4. Sections 16–20
5. Sections 21–25
6. Sections 26–30
7. Sections 31–35
8. Sections 36–40
9. Sections 41–43

Sections 1–5

Heretofore, gentlemen of the Council, I thought it possible for a person who so desired to avoid both law-suits and anxieties by leading a quiet life; but now I find myself so unexpectedly embarrassed with accusations and with nefarious slanderers that, if such a thing could be, I conceive that even those who are yet unborn ought now be feeling alarmed for what is in store for them, since the conduct of these men brings as great a share of danger upon those who have done no wrong as upon those who are guilty of many offences.

And this trial has been made especially perplexing for me, because at first I was indicted for clearing away an olive tree from my land, and they went and made an inquiry of the men who had brought the produce of the State olives; but having failed by this method to find that I have done anything wrong, they now say it is an olive-stump that I cleared away, judging that for me this is a most difficult accusation to refute, while to them it allows more freedom to make any statement that they please.

So I am obliged, on a charge which this man has carefully planned against me before coming here, and which I have only heard at the same moment as you who are to decide on the case, to defend myself against the loss of my native land and my possessions. Nevertheless I will try to explain the affair to you from the beginning.

This plot of ground belonged to Peisander; but when his property was confiscated, Apollodorus of Megara had it as a gift from the people and cultivated it for some time, until, shortly before the Thirty, Anticles bought it from him and let it out. I bought it from Anticles when peace had been made.

So I consider, gentlemen, that my business is to show that, when I acquired the plot, there was neither olive-tree nor stump upon it. For I conceive that in respect of the previous time, even had there been sacred olives of old upon it, I could not with justice be penalized; since if we have had no hand in their clearance, there is no relevance in our being charged as guilty of the offences of others.

Sections 6–10

For you are all aware that, among the numerous troubles that have been caused by the war, the outlying districts were ravaged by the Lacedaemonians, while the nearer were plundered by our friends; so how can it be just that I should be punished now for the disasters that then befell the city?

And in particular, this plot of land, as having been confiscated during the war, was unsold for over three years: it is not surprising if they uprooted the sacred olives at a time in which we were unable to safeguard even our personal property. You are aware, gentlemen—especially those of you who have the supervision of such matters,—that many plots at that time were thick with private and sacred olive-trees which have now for the most part been uprooted, so that the land has become bare; and although the same people have owned these plots in the peace as in the war, you do not think fit to punish them for the up-rooting done by others.

And yet, if you exculpate those who have cultivated the land throughout the whole period, surely those who bought it in the time of the peace ought to leave your court unpunished.

Well now, gentlemen, although I might speak at length on what had previously occurred, I think these remarks will suffice: but when I took over the plot, after an interval of five days I let it out to Callistratus, in the archonship of Pythodorus:

he cultivated it for two years, and had taken over no olive-tree, either private or sacred, nor any olive-stump. In the third year it was worked by Demetrius here for a twelvemonth; in the fourth I let it to Alcias, a freedman of Antisthenes, who is dead. After that Proteas too hired it in the same state during three years. Now, please step this way, witnesses.

Sections 11–15

Witnesses Well now, since the termination of that time I have cultivated it myself. My accuser says that in the archonship of Souniades an olive-stump was uprooted by me. And the previous cultivators, who rented it from me for a number of years, have testified to you that there was no stump on the plot. I ask you, how could one convict the accuser more patently of lying? For it is not possible that the cultivator who came after cleared away what was not there before.

Now formerly, gentlemen, whenever people declared me to be a shrewd, exact man who would do nothing at random or without calculation, I would take it hard, feeling that these terms were wide of my true character; but now I should be glad if you all held this opinion of me, so that you should expect me, if I did set about such an act as this, to consider what profit I stood to get by clearing away the stump, and what loss by preserving it, what I should have achieved if I went undetected, and what I should suffer at your hands if I were exposed.

For in every case such acts are done, not for mere mischief, but for profit; and that is the proper direction for your inquiry, and the prosecution should make that the basis of their accusation, by showing what benefit accrued to the wrongdoers.

Yet this man is quite unable to show either that I was compelled by poverty to venture on such an act, or that the plot was declining in value to me while the stump existed, or that it was obstructing vines or close to a building, or that I was unapprised of the dangers awaiting me in your court.

And if I had attempted anything of the kind, I should be openly exposed as having incurred many severe penalties for in the first place, it was daylight when I uprooted the stump,—as though I had not to do it unseen by all, but must let all the Athenians know! If the act had been merely disgraceful, one might perhaps have disregarded the passers-by; but the case was one of my risking, not disgrace, but the severest penalty.

Sections 16–20

And surely I must have been the most wretched of human creatures if my own servants were to be no longer my slaves, but my masters for the rest of my life, since they would be privy to that act of mine; so that, however great might be their offences against me, I should have been unable to get them punished. For I should have been fully aware that it was in their power at once to be avenged on me and to win their own freedom by informing against me.

Furthermore, supposing I had been of a mind to be heedless of my domestics, how should I have dared, when so many persons had rented the plot, and all were acquainted with the facts, to clear away the stump for the sake of a petty profit, while there was no statute of limitations to protect them, so that all who had worked the plot were alike concerned in the preservation of the stump, and hence they would be able, if anyone accused them, to transfer the blame to their successor? But as it is, they have manifestly absolved me, and have thus taken upon themselves a share of the charge in case they are lying.

Again, if I had settled this matter by arrangement, how could I have prevailed on all the passers-by, or the neighbors who not only know of each other what is open for all to see, but even get information of what we try to keep hidden from the knowledge of anyone? Now, some of those people are my friends, but others are at feud with me about my property:

these persons he ought to have produced as witnesses, instead of merely bringing these hazardous accusations; for he says I stood by while my domestics hewed down the stems and the wagoner loaded up the wood and took it right away.

But surely, Nicomachus, you ought, at the time, both to have called up those who were present as witnesses, and to have exposed the affair: you would then have left me without any defence, while on your own part, if I was your enemy, you would have achieved by this means your vengeance upon me while if you were acting in the interest of the State, you would in this way have convicted me without being regarded as a slanderer. If you were looking for profit, you would have made the largest then;

Sections 21–25

for, the fact being exposed, I should have decided that my sole deliverance lay in seducing you. Well, you did nothing of the sort, and you expect that your statements will effect my ruin: you put in the plea that owing to my influence and my means there is no one willing to bear you witness.

Yet if, when you saw me—as you say—clearing away the sacred olive, you had brought the nine archons on the scene, or some other members of the Areopagus, you would not have had to seek witnesses elsewhere; for then the truth of your statements would have been ascertained by the very persons who were to decide upon the matter.

So he makes my situation most perplexing; for if he had produced witnesses, he might claim that they should be believed, but as he has none, he thinks it is I who should suffer so much detriment from that. And I am not surprised—at him; for, to be sure, in his slanderous proceedings he is not going to be as hard up for statements of this sort as he is for witnesses; but you, I trust, will not be in agreement with this man.

For you understand that in the plain there are many sacred olives and burnt stumps on my other plots which, had I so desired, it would have been much safer to clear away or cut down or work over, inasmuch as among so many of them the wrongful act was likely to be less evident.

But the fact is that I have as great a regard for them as for my native land and my whole property, realizing that it is the loss of both of these that I have at stake. And you yourselves I shall produce as witnesses to that fact;. for you supervise the matter every month, and also send assessors every year, none of whom has ever penalized me for working the ground about the sacred olives.

Sections 26–30

Now surely, when I pay so much regard to those small penalties, I cannot so utterly disregard the perils involved for my person. You find me taking all this care of the many olive-trees upon which I could more freely commit the offence, and I am on my trial to-day for clearing away the sacred olive which it was impossible to dig up unobserved!

And under which government was I better placed for breaking the law, gentlemen,—that of the democracy, or that of the Thirty? I do not mean that I was influential then, or that I now stand falsely accused, but that there was a better chance for anyone who wished to commit a crime then than there is at present. Well, you will find that not even in that time did I do anything wrong, either in this or in any other way.

And how—except in all the world I were my own most malignant enemy—could I have attempted, with you supervising as you do, to clear away the sacred olive from this plot; in which there is not a single tree, but there was, as he says, a stump of one olive; where a road skirts the plot all round, and neighbors live about it on both sides, and it is unfenced and open to view from every point? So who would have been so foolhardy in these circumstances, as to attempt such a proceeding?

And I feel it is extraordinary that you, whom the city has charged with the perpetual supervision of the sacred olives, have never either punished me for working over the one of them nor brought me to trial for having cleared one away, and that now this man, who, as it happens, is neither farming near me nor has been appointed a supervisor nor is of age to know about such matters, should have indicted me for clearing away a sacred olive from the land.

I beg you, therefore, not to consider such statements more credible than the facts, nor to tolerate such assertions from my enemies about matters of which you are personally cognizant: let your reflections be guided by what I have told you and by the whole tenor of my citizenship.

Sections 31–35

For I have performed all the duties laid upon me with greater zeal than the State required: alike in equipping a warship, in contributing to war funds, in producing drama, and in the rest of my public services, my munificence was equal to that of any other citizen.

Yet, if I had done these things but moderately and without that zeal, I should not be struggling to save myself at once from exile and from the loss of all my property, but should have increased my possessions without incurring guilt or imperilling my life: whereas, had I done what this man accuses me of doing, I stood to make no profit, but only to endanger myself.

Surely you will all acknowledge that it is fairer to judge important issues by important proofs, and to give more credit to the testimony of the whole city than to the accusations of this single person.

And further, gentlemen, take note of the other events in the case. I went with witnesses to see him, and said that I still had the servants that I owned when I took over the plot, and was ready to delivery any that he wished to the torture, thinking that this would put his statements and my acts to stronger test.

But he declined, asserting that no credit could be given to servants. To my mind it is surprising that, when put to the torture on their own account, they accuse themselves, in the certain knowledge that they will be executed, but when it is on account of their masters, to whom they naturally have most animosity, they can choose rather to endure the torture than to get release from their present ills by an incrimination!

Sections 36–40

Nay, in truth, gentlemen, I think it is manifest to all that, had I refused to deliver the men at Nicomachus’s request, I should be considered conscious of my guilt; so, since he declined to accept them when I offered to deliver them, it is fair to form the same opinion regarding him, especially as the danger is not equal for us both.

For if they had made the statements about me that he desired, I should not even have had a chance of defending myself; while if they had not supported his statements, he was liable to no penalty. It behoved him, therefore, much rather to take them than it suited me to deliver them. For my part, I was so solicitous in the matter, because I felt it was in my favour to have you informed of the truth regarding this matter, at once by torture, by witnesses, and by evidence.

And you should consider, gentlemen, which side you ought rather to credit, those for whom many have borne witness, or one for whom nobody has ventured to do so; whether it is more likely that this man is lying, as he can without danger, or that in face of so grave a danger I committed such an act; and whether you think that he is vindicating the cause of the State, or has been playing the slanderer’s trade in his accusation.

For I believe it is your opinion that Nicomachus has been prevailed upon by my enemies to conduct this prosecution, not as hoping to establish my guilt, but as expecting to obtain money from me. For precisely as such actions at law are most damaging and perplexing, so everyone is most anxious to avoid them.

But I, gentlemen, disdained that: as soon as he charged me, I placed myself entirely at your disposal, and came to terms with none of my enemies on account of this ordeal, though they take more pleasure in vilifying me than in commending themselves. Not one of them has ever attempted, openly and in his own person, to do me a single hurt; they prefer to set upon me men of this stamp, whom you cannot honestly believe.

Sections 41–43

For I shall be the most miserable of creatures if I am to be unjustly declared in exile: I am childless and alone, my house would be abandoned, my mother would be in utter penury, and I should be deprived of a native land, that is so much to me, on the most disgraceful of charges,—I who in her defence have engaged in many sea-fights and fought many battles on land, and have shown myself an orderly person under both democracy and oligarchy.

But on these matters, gentlemen, I do not know what call I have to speak in this place. However, I have proved to you that there was no stump on the plot, and I have produced witnesses and evidence: these you should bear in mind when you make your decision on the case, and require this man to inform you why it was that, neglecting to convict me as taken in the act, he has delayed so long in bringing so serious an action against me;

why he seeks to be credited on the strength of his statements, unsupported by a single witness, when the bare facts would have sufficed to establish my guilt and why,on my offering all the servants whom he asserts to have been then present, he declined to accept them.

Contents — 7 sections

1. Sections 1–5
2. Sections 6–10
3. Sections 11–15
4. Sections 16–20
5. Sections 21–25
6. Sections 26–30
7. Sections 31–35

Sections 1–5

I can find full excuse for you, gentlemen of the jury, if on hearing such statements and remembering past events you are equally incensed against all those who remained in the city. But I am surprised at my accusers: they neglect their own concerns to attend to those of others, and now, though they know for certain who are guilty of nothing and who have committed many offences, they seek to persuade you into holding this same opinion about us all.

Now, if they conceive that they have charged me with everything that the city has suffered at the hands of the Thirty, I consider them to be speakers of no ability; for they have not mentioned so much as a small fraction of what has been perpetrated by those men. But if their statements imply that I had any connection with those things, I shall prove that their words are nothing but lies, and that on my part I behaved as the best citizen in the Peiraeus would have done, if he had remained in the city.

I beg you, gentlemen, not to share the views of the slander-mongers. Their business is to inculpate even those who have committed no offence, —for it is out of them especially that they would make money,—while yours is to allow an equal enjoyment of civic rights to those who have done no wrong; for in this way you will secure to the established constitution the greatest number of allies.

And I claim, gentlemen, if I am found to have been the cause of none of our disasters, but rather to have performed many services to the State with both my person and my purse, that at any rate I should have that support from you which is the just desert, not merely of those who have served you well, but also of those who have done you no wrong.

Now, I consider that I have a strong justification in the fact that, if my accusers were able to convict me of wrongdoing in private life, they would not charge me with the misdeeds of the Thirty: they would not see occasion to traduce others on the score of what those persons have perpetrated, but only to requite the actual wrongdoers. But in fact they conceive that your resentment against those men is sufficient to involve in their ruin those who have done no harm at all.

Sections 6–10

I, however, hold that, just as it would be unfair, when some men have been the source of many benefits to the city, to let others carry off the reward of your honors or your thanks, so it is unreasonable, when some have continually done you harm, that their acts should bring reproach and slander upon those who have done no wrong. The city has enough enemies already existing, who count it a great gain to have people brought up on slanderous charges.

I will now try to explain to you who of the citizens are inclined, in my view, to court oligarchy, and who democracy. This will serve as a basis both for your decision and for the defence that I shall offer for myself; for I shall make it evident that neither under the democracy nor under the oligarchy has my conduct suggested any inclination to be disloyal to your people.

Now, first of all, you should reflect that no human being is naturally either an oligarch or a democrat: whatever constitution a man finds advantageous to himself, he is eager to see that one established; so it largely depends on you whether the present system finds an abundance of supporters. That this is the truth, you will have no difficulty in deducing from the events of the past.

For consider, gentlemen of the jury, how many times the leaders of both governments changed sides. Did not Phrynichus, Peisander and their fellow demagogues, when they had committed many offences against you, proceed, in fear of the requital that they deserved, to establish the first oligarchy? And did not many of the Four Hundred, again, join in the return of the Peiraeus party, while some, on the other hand, who had helped in the expulsion of the Four Hundred, actually appeared among the Thirty? Some, too, of those who had enlisted for Eleusis marched out with you to besiege their own comrades!

There is thus no difficulty in concluding, gentlemen, that the questions dividing men are concerned, not with politics, but with their personal advantage. You should therefore apply this test in the probation of your citizens: examine their use of the citizenship under the democracy, and inquire whether they stood to benefit by a change in the government. In this way you will most justly form your decision upon them.

Sections 11–15

Now, in my opinion, all those who had been disfranchised under the democracy, or deprived of their property, or subjected to any other misfortune of the sort, were bound to desire a different system, in the hope that the change would be some benefit to themselves. But in the case of those who have done the people many good services, and never a single hurt, and who deserve your grateful favors instead of punishment for what they have achieved, it is not fair to harbor the slanders aimed at them, not even if all who have charge of public affairs allege that they favor oligarchy.

Now I, gentlemen of the jury, never suffered any misfortune during that time, either private or public, which could lead me, through eagerness to be relieved of present ills, to court a change in our system. I have equipped a warship five times, fought in four sea-battles, contributed to many war levies, and performed my other public services as amply as any citizen.

But my purpose in spending more than was enjoined upon me by the city was to raise myself the higher in your opinion, so that if any misfortune should chance to befall me I might defend myself on better terms. Of all this credit I was deprived under the oligarchy; for instead of regarding those who had bestowed some benefit on the people as worthy recipients of their favors, they placed in positions of honor the men who had done you most harm, as though this were a pledge by which they held us bound. You ought all to reflect on those facts and refuse to believe the statements of these men: you should rather judge each person by the record of his actions.

For I, gentlemen, was not one of the Four Hundred: I challenge anyone who wishes amongst my accusers to come forward and convict me of this. Neither, again, will anyone prove that, when the Thirty were established, I sat on the Council or held any office. Surely, if I chose not to hold office when I could have done so, I deserve to be honored by you today. If, on their part, the men who were in power at that time preferred not to give me a place in the government, could I find a more signal proof than this of the falsehood of my accusers?

Furthermore, gentlemen of the jury, you ought also to take account of the rest of my conduct. For amid the misfortunes of the city my behavior was such that, if everyone had been of one mind with me, not one of you would have experience of a single misfortune. I had no hand during the oligarchy, you will find, either in the arrest of anybody, or in taking vengeance upon any of my enemies, or in conferring a favor on any of my friends,

Sections 16–20

—and in that there is nothing to wonder at, for at that time it was difficult to confer favors, though an act of mischief was easy for anyone who wished. Again, you will find that I did not place the name of a single Athenian on the black list, or obtain a decree of arbitration against anyone, or enrich myself by means of your misfortunes. Yet surely, if you are incensed against the authors of your past troubles, it is reasonable that those who have done no mischief should stand the higher in your opinion.

And indeed, gentlemen of the jury, I consider that I have given the democracy the strongest pledge of my attachment. For if I did no mischief at that time, when ample licence for it was allowed, surely I shall now make every effort to be a good citizen in the full knowledge that, if I am guilty of wrong, I shall incur immediate punishment. But in fact I have continually held to this resolve, —under an oligarchy, not to covet the property of others, and under a democracy, to spend my own upon you with zeal.

I consider, gentlemen, that you would not be justified in hating those who have suffered nothing under the oligarchy, when you can indulge your wrath against those who have done your people mischief; or in regarding as enemies those who did not go into exile instead of those who expelled you, or those who were anxious to save their own property instead of those who stripped others of theirs, or those who stayed in the city with a view to their own safety instead of those who took part in the government for the purpose of destroying others. If you think it your duty to destroy the men whom they passed over, not one of the citizens will be left to us.

You ought also to take account of this further point, gentlemen of the jury: you are all aware that under the previous democracy there were many in the ministry who robbed the Treasury; while some accepted bribes at your expense, and others by malicious informations estranged your allies. Now, if the Thirty had kept their punishments for these cases, you would have held them yourselves to be honest men: but when in fact you found them deliberately oppressing the people because of the offences of those persons, you were indignant; for you considered it monstrous that the crimes of the few should be spread over the whole city.

It is not right, therefore, that you should resort to those offences which you saw them committing, or regard those deeds, which you deemed unjust when done to you, as just when you do them to others. No: let your feeling towards us after your restoration be the same as you had towards yourselves in your exile; for by this means you will produce the utmost harmony amongst us, the power of the city will be at its highest, and you will vote for what will be most distressing to your enemies.

Sections 21–25

And you should reflect, gentlemen, on the events that have occurred under the Thirty, in order that the errors of your enemies may lead you to take better counsel on your own affairs. For as often as you heard that the people in the city were all of one mind, you had but slight hopes of your return, judging that our concord was the worst of signs for your exile:

but as soon as you had tidings that the Three Thousand were divided by faction, that the rest of the citizens had been publicly banned from the city, that the Thirty were not all of one mind, and that those who had fears for you outnumbered those who were making war on you, you immediately began to look forward to your return and the punishment of your enemies. For it was your prayer to the gods that those men should do the things that you saw them doing, since you believed that the villainy of the Thirty would be far more useful for your salvation than the resources of the exiles for your return.

You ought therefore, gentlemen, to take the events of the past as your example in resolving on the future course of things, and to account those men the best democrats who, desiring your concord, abide by their oaths and covenants, because they hold this to be the most effective safeguard of the city and the severest punishment of her enemies. For nothing could be more vexatious to them than to learn that we are taking part in the government and to perceive at the same time that the citizens are behaving as though they had never had any fault to find with each other.

And you should know, gentlemen, that the exiles desire to see the greatest possible number of their fellow citizens not merely slandered but disfranchised; since they hope that the men who are wronged by you will be their allies, and they would gladly have the venal informers standing high in your esteem and influential in the city. For they judge the villainy of those creatures to be their own safeguard.

You will do well to remember also the events that followed the rule of the Four Hundred; for you will fully realize that the measures advised by these men have never brought you any advantage, while those that I recommend have always profited both parties in the State. You know that Epigenes, Demophanes and Cleisthenes, while reaping their personal gains from the city’s misfortunes, have inflicted the heaviest losses on the public weal.

Sections 26–30

For they prevailed on you to condemn several men to death without trial, to confiscate unjustly the property of many more, and to banish and disfranchise other citizens; since they were capable of taking money for the release of offenders, and of appearing before you to effect the ruin of the innocent. They did not stop until they had involved the city in seditions and the gravest disasters, while raising themselves from poverty to wealth.

But your temper moved you to welcome back the exiles, to reinstate the disfranchised in their rights, and to bind yourselves by oaths to concord with the rest. At the end of it all, you would have been more pleased to punish those who traded in slander under the democracy than those who held office under the oligarchy. And with good reason, gentlemen: for it is manifest now to all that the unjust acts of rulers in an oligarchy produce democracy, whereas the trade of slanderers in the democracy has twice led to the establishment of oligarchy. It is not right, therefore, to hearken many times to the counsels of men whose advice has not even once resulted in your profit.

And you should consider that, in the Peiraeus party, those who are in highest repute, who have run the greatest risk, and who have rendered you the most services, had often before exhorted your people to abide by their oaths and covenants, since they held this to be the bulwark of democracy: for they felt that it would give the party of the town immunity from the consequences of the past, and the party of the Peiraeus an assurance of the most lasting permanence of the constitution.

For these are the men whom you would be far more justified in trusting than those who, as exiles, owed their deliverance to others and, now that they have returned, are taking up the slanderer’s trade. In my opinion, gentlemen of the jury, those among our people remaining in the city who shared my views have clearly proved, both under oligarchy and under democracy, what manner of citizens they are.

But the men who give us good cause to wonder what they would have done if they had been allowed to join the Thirty are the men who now, in a democracy, imitate those rulers; who have made a rapid advance from poverty to wealth, and who hold a number of offices without rendering an account of any; who instead of concord have created mutual suspicion, and who have declared war instead of peace; and who have caused us to be distrusted by the Greeks.

Sections 31–35

Authors of all these troubles and of many more besides, and differing no whit from the Thirty, —save that the latter pursued the same ends as theirs during an oligarchy, while these men follow their example in a democracy, —they yet make it their business to maltreat in this light fashion any person they may wish, as though everyone else were guilty, and they had proved themselves men of the highest virtue.

(Nay, it is not so much they who give cause for wonder as you, who suppose that there is a democracy, whereas things are done just as they please, and punishment falls, not on those who have injured your people, but on those who refuse to yield their own possessions.) And they would sooner have the city diminished than raised to greatness and freedom by others:

they consider that their perils in the Peiraeus give them licence now to do just as they please, while, if later on you obtain deliverance through others, they themselves will be swept away, and those others will be advanced in power. So they combine to obstruct any efforts that others may make for your benefit.

But their purpose is readily detected by any observer: for they are not anxious to hide themselves, but are rather ashamed not to be reputed villains; while you partly see the mischief for yourselves, and partly hear it from many other persons. As for us, gentlemen, we consider that you are bound by your duty towards all the citizens to abide by your covenants and your oaths:

nevertheless, when we see justice done upon the authors of your troubles, we remember your former experiences, and condone you; but when you show yourselves openly chastising the innocent along with the guilty, by the same vote you will be involving us all in suspicion. [...]

Contents — 5 sections

1. Sections 1–5
2. Sections 6–10
3. Sections 11–15
4. Sections 16–20
5. Sections 21–22

Sections 1–5

Many people have come to me, gentlemen of the jury, in surprise at my accusing the corn-dealers in the Council, and telling me that you, however sure you are of their guilt, none the less regard those who deliver speeches about them as slander-mongers. I therefore propose to speak first of the grounds on which I have found it necessary to accuse them.

When the Committee of the time brought up their case before the Council, the anger felt against them was such that some of the orators said that they ought to be handed over without trial to the Eleven, for the penalty of death. But I, thinking it monstrous that the Council should get into the way of such practice, rose and said that in my opinion we ought to try the corn-dealers in accordance with the law; for I thought that if they had committed acts deserving of death you would be no less able than we to come to a just decision, while, if they were not guilty, they ought not to perish without trial.

After the Council adopted this view, attempts were made to discredit me by saying that I hoped to save the corn-dealers by these remarks. Now before the Council, when the case came up for their hearing, I justified myself in a practical way: while the rest kept quiet, I rose and accused these men, and made it evident to all that my remarks were not made in their defence, but in support of the established laws.

Well, these were my reasons for beginning my task, in fear of those incriminations; but I consider it would be disgraceful to leave off before you have given such verdict upon them as you may prefer.

So, first of all, go up on the dais. Tell me, sir, are you a resident alien? Yes. Do you reside as an alien to obey the city’s laws, or to do just as you please? To obey. Must you not, then, expect to be put to death, if you have committed a breach of the laws for which death is the penalty? I must. Then answer me: do you acknowledge that you bought up corn in excess of the fifty measures which the law sets as the limit? I bought it up on an order from the magistrates.

Sections 6–10

Well now, gentlemen, if he proves that there is a law which orders the corn-dealers to buy up the corn on an order from the magistrates, acquit him: if not, it is just that you should condemn him. For we have produced to you the law which forbids anyone in the city to buy up corn in excess of fifty measures.

This accusation of mine should have sufficed, gentlemen of the jury, since this man acknowledges that he bought up the corn, while the law clearly forbids him to do so; and you have sworn to decide in accordance with the laws. Nevertheless, in order that you may be convinced that they are actually traducing the magistrates, it is necessary to speak of them at some greater length.

For since these men shifted the blame on to them, we called the magistrates before us and questioned them. Two of them denied any knowledge of the matter; but Anytus stated that in the previous winter, as the corn was dear, and these men were outbidding each other and fighting amongst themselves, he had advised them to cease their competition, judging it beneficial to you, their customers, that they should purchase at as reasonable a price as possible: for they were bound, in selling, to add no more than an obol to the price.

Now, that he did not order them to buy up the corn for holding in store, but only advised them not to buy against each other, I will produce to you Anytus himself as witness.

Testimony These statements were made by him in the time of the former Council, whereas these men evidently bought up the corn in the time of the present one.

So now you have heard that it was not on an order from the magistrates that they bought up the corn; yet, in my opinion, however true their statements may be on these points, they will not be clearing themselves, but only accusing the magistrates. For where we have laws expressly drafted for the case, surely punishment should fall alike on those who disobey them and on those who order an infringement of them.

Sections 11–15

But in fact, gentlemen of the jury, I believe they will not have recourse to this argument, but will repeat, perhaps, what they said before the Council, — that it was in kindness to the city that they bought up the corn, so that they might sell it to you at as reasonable a price as possible. But I will give you a very strong and signal proof that they are lying.

If they were doing this for your benefit, they ought to have been found selling it at the same price for a number of days, until the stock that they had bought up was exhausted. But in fact they were selling at a profit of a drachma several times in the same day, as though they were buying by the medimnus at a time. I adduce you as witnesses of this.

And it seems to me a strange thing that, when they have to contribute to a special levy of which everyone is to have knowledge, they refuse, making poverty their pretext; but illegal acts, for which death is the penalty, and in which secrecy was important to them, — these they assert that they committed in kindness to you. Yet you are all aware that they are the last persons to whom such statements are appropriate.

For their interests are the opposite of other men’s: they make most profit when, on some bad news reaching the city, they sell their corn at a high price. And they are so delighted to see your disasters that they either get news of them in advance of anyone else, or fabricate the rumor themselves; now it is the loss of your ships in the Black Sea, now the capture of vessels on their outward voyage by the Lacedaemonians, now the blockade of your trading ports, or the impending rupture of the truce; and they have carried their enmity to such lengths that they choose the same critical moments as your foes to overreach you.

For, just when you find yourselves worst off for corn, these persons snap it up and refuse to sell it, in order to prevent our disputing about the price: we are to be glad enough if we come away from them with a purchase made at any price, however high. And thus at times, although there is peace, we are besieged by these men.

Sections 16–20

So long is it now that the city has been convinced of their knavery and disaffection that, while for the sale of all other commodities you have appointed the market-clerks as controllers, for this trade alone you elect special corn-controllers by lot; and often you have been known to inflict the extreme penalty on those officials, who were citizens, for having failed to defeat the villainy of these men. Now, what should be your treatment of the actual offenders, when you put to death even those who are unable to control them?

You should reflect that it is impossible for you to vote an acquittal. For if you reject the charge, when they admit that they are combining against the traders, you will be regarded as aiming a blow at the importers. If they were putting up some other defence, nobody could censure a verdict for acquittal; for it rests with you to choose which side you are to believe. But, as matters stand, your action cannot but be thought extraordinary, if you dismiss unpunished those who confess to breaking the law.

Remember, gentlemen of the jury, that many in the past have met this charge with denial, and have produced witnesses; yet you have condemned them to death because you gave more credence to the statements of their accusers. But surely it would be astounding if, in passing judgement on the same offences, you are more eager to punish those who deny!

And, moreover, gentlemen, I conceive it is obvious to you all that suits of this kind are of the closest concern to the people of our city; and hence they will inquire what view you take of such matters, in the belief that, if you condemn these men to death, the rest will be brought to better order; while if you dismiss them unpunished, you will have voted them full licence to do just as they please.

You must chastise them, gentlemen, not only on account of the past, but also to give an example for the future: even so these people will be barely tolerable. Consider that great numbers in this business have been tried for their lives: so much profit do they make by it that they choose rather to risk death every day than to cease making illicit gain out of you.

Sections 21–22

Nay, more, not even if they implore and beseech you, would you be justified in taking pity on them: far rather ought you to pity those of our citizens who perished by their villainy, and the traders against whom they have combined. These you will gratify and render more zealous by punishing the accused. Otherwise, what do you suppose their feelings will be, when they learn that you have acquitted the retailers who confessed to overreaching the importers?

I do not see what more there is to say when suits against other malefactors are heard, you have to get your information from the accusers; whereas the villainy of these men is understood by you all. So, you convict them, you will both do justice and buy your corn at a fairer price: otherwise, it will be dearer.

Contents — 5 sections

1. Sections 1–5
2. Sections 6–10
3. Sections 11–15
4. Sections 16–20
5. Section 21

Sections 1–5

If I were not conscious, gentlemen of the Council, that my accusers are seeking every possible means of injuring me, I should feel most grateful to them for this accusation; since I consider that the victims of unjust slander have the greatest service rendered to them by anyone who will compel them to undergo an examination of the record of their lives.

For I have so strong a confidence in myself that, if there is anyone who is inclined to dislike me, I hope that when he has heard me speak of my conduct in the past he will change his mind, and will think much better of me in the future.

Now, gentlemen, I make no claim to special merit, if I merely make plain to you that I am a supporter of the existing constitution and have been compelled to take my own share in your dangers: but if I am found to have lived, in all other respects, a regular life, quite contrary to the opinion and statements of my enemies, I request you to pass me through and to think the worse of these persons. I will begin by showing that I did not serve in the cavalry or reside here under the Thirty, and that I had no hand in the government of that time.

Our father, before the disaster at the Hellespont, had sent us abroad to live at the court of Satyrus, on the Pontus. We were not residing in Athens either when the walls were being demolished or when the constitution was being changed. We came here five days before the people at Phyle returned to the Peiraeus.

Surely it was not to be expected that, having arrived at such a moment, we should want to share in dangers that concerned others; while obviously the Thirty were in no mind to share the government with men who were residing abroad and were guilt of no crime: they were rather disfranchising even the men who had helped them to overthrow the democracy.

Sections 6–10

Moreover, to refer to the register for those who served in the cavalry is puerile: for it does not include many of those who admit that they served, while some who were absent abroad are on the list. But the strongest proof lies in the fact that, after you had returned, you voted that the tribal officers should make out a list of those who had served in the cavalry, so that you might recover the allowances from them.

Well, nobody will be able to show that I was either put on the list by the tribal officers or reported to the Revenue Commission or made to refund an allowance: yet it is within the knowledge of all that the tribal officers were under the necessity, if they failed to show who had the allowances, of bearing the loss themselves. Hence you would be far more justified in relying on these lists than on the register: for anyone who wished could easily have his name erased from the latter; but in the former the tribal officers were obliged to record those who had served.

Besides, gentlemen if I had served, I should not deny it as though I had done something monstrous: I should merely claim, after showing that no citizen had suffered injury by my act, to pass the scrutiny. And I see that you also take this view, and that many of those who served then in the cavalry are on the Council, while many others have been elected generals and brigadiers. You must therefore conclude that my only reason for making this defense is that they have dared thus openly to attack me with a falsehood. Mount the dais, please and bear witness.

Testimony Now, as regards the charge itself, I do not see what more there is to say. But it seems to me, gentlemen, that although in other trials one ought to confine one’s defence to the actual points of the accusation, in the case of scrutinies one has a right to render an account of one’s whole life. I request you, therefore, to give me a favorable hearing: I will make my defence as briefly as I can.

In the first place, although but little property had been bequeathed to me, owing to the disasters that had befallen both my father and the city, I bestowed two sisters in marriage with a dowry of thirty minae apiece; to my brother I allowed such a portion as made him acknowledge that he had got a larger share of our patrimony than I had; and towards everyone else my behavior has been such that never to this day has a single person shown any grievance against me.

Sections 11–15

So much for the tenor of my private life: with regard to public matters, I hold that the strongest proof I can give of my decorous conduct is the fact that all the younger set who are found to take their diversion in dice or drink or the like dissipations are, as you will observe, at feud with me, and are most prolific in lying tales about me. It is obvious, surely, that if we were at one in our desires they would not regard me with such feelings.

And moreover, gentlemen, nobody will be able to prove that I have ever been cited in a disgraceful private suit, or in public proceedings or in a special impeachment; yet you see others frequently involved in such trials. Again, as regards campaigns and dangers in face of the enemy, observe how I discharge my duty to the State.

First of all, when you made your alliance with the Boeotians, and we had to go to the relief of Haliartus, I had been enrolled by Orthobulus for service in the cavalry: I saw that it was everyone’s opinion that, whereas the cavalry were assured of safety, the infantry would have to face danger; so, while others mounted on horseback illegally, without having passed the scrutiny, I went up to Orthobulus and told him to strike me off the roll, as I thought it shameful, while the majority were to face danger, to take the field with precaution for my own security. Come forward, please, Orthobulus.

Testimony Now, when the townsmen had assembled together before their setting out, as I knew that some among them, though true and ardent patriots, lacked means for expenses of service, I said that the well-to-do ought to provide what was necessary for those in needy circumstances. Not only did I recommend this to the others, but I myself gave thirty drachmae each to two men; not as being a person of great possessions, but to set a good example to the others. Come forward, please.

Witnesses Then after that, gentlemen, there was the expedition to Corinth; and everyone knew beforehand that it must be a dangerous affair. Some were trying to shirk their duty, but I contrived to have myself posted in the front rank for our battle with the enemy. Our tribe had the worst fortune, and suffered the heaviest losses in the ranks: I retired from the field later than the fine fellow of Steiria who has been reproaching everybody with cowardice.

Sections 16–20

Not many days after this event some strong posts in Corinth had been occupied, to prevent the passage of the enemy: when Agesilaus had forced his way into Boeotia, the commanders decided to detach some battalions to the rescue; everyone felt afraid (with some reason, gentlemen: for it was a serious thing, when they had just previously felt the relief of getting off in safety, to face a fresh danger), but I went to the commander and urged him to dispatch our battalion.without drawing lots.

So if any of you are incensed against those who claim the management of the city’s affairs and yet evade its dangers, you can have no right to regard me with any such feeling; for I not only carried out my orders with zeal, but I was also forward to face danger. I acted in this way, not because I did not think it a serious thing to do battle with the Lacedaemonians, but in order that, if ever I should be involved in an unjust prosecution, the better opinion that you would form of me on this account might avail to secure me the full measure of my rights. Now let the witnesses to this come forward, please.

Witnesses In every other campaign or outpost I have never once failed in my duty, but have adhered throughout to my rule of marching out in the first rank and retreating in the last. Surely it is by such conduct that one ought to judge who are the aspiring and orderly subjects of the State, and not to take the fact of a man’s wearing his hair long as a reason for hating him; for such habits as this do no harm either to private persons or to the public weal, while it is from those who are ready to face danger before the enemy that you all derive advantage.

Hence it is not fair, gentlemen, to like or dislike any man because of his appearance, but rather to judge him by his actions; for many who are modest in speech and sober in dress have been the cause of grievous mischief, while others who are careless of such things have done you many a valuable service.

I have had occasion to observe, gentlemen, that some people are annoyed with me merely for attempting at too early an age to speak before the people. But, in the first place, I was compelled to speak in public to protect my own interests; and indeed, in the second, I do feel that my tendency has been unduly enterprising: for in reflecting on my ancestors, and how they have continually taken part in the administration, I had you also in my view—

Section 21

I must tell you the truth—as attaching no value to any but men of that stamp. So who, on seeing you so minded, would not be stimulated to work and speak for the benefit of the State? Moreover, how could you be annoyed with such people? For it is you, and none else, who are judges of their worth.

Contents — 6 sections

1. Sections 1–5
2. Sections 6–10
3. Sections 11–15
4. Sections 16–20
5. Sections 21–25
6. Sections 26–27

Sections 1–5

I can almost find it in me to be grateful to my accuser, gentlemen of the Council, for having involved me in these proceedings. For previously I had no excuse for rendering an account of my life; but now, owing to this man, I have got one. So I will try to show you in my speech that this man is lying, and that my own life until this day has been deserving of praise rather than envy; for it is merely from envy, in my opinion, that he has involved me in this ordeal.

But I ask you, if a man envies those whom other people pity, from what villainy do you think such a person would refrain? Is it possible that he hopes to get money by slandering me? And if he makes me out an enemy on whom he seeks to be avenged, he lies; for his villainy has always kept me from having any dealings with him either as a friend or as an enemy.

So now, gentlemen, it is clear that he envies me because, although I have to bear this sore misfortune, I am a better citizen than he is. For indeed I consider, gentlemen, that one ought to remedy the afflictions of the body with the activities of the spirit; for if I am to keep my thoughts and the general tenor of my life on the level of my misfortune, how shall I be distinguished from this man?

Well, in regard to those matters, let these few words of mine suffice: I will now speak as briefly as I can on the points with which I am here concerned. My accuser says that I have no right to receive my civil pension, because I am able-bodied and not classed as disabled, and because I am skilled in a trade which would enable me to live without this grant.

In proof of my bodily strength, he instances that I mount on horseback; of the affluence arising from my trade, that I am able to associate with people who have means to spend. Now, as to the affluence from my trade and the nature of my livelihood in general, I think you are all acquainted with these: I will, however, make some brief remarks of my own.

Sections 6–10

My father left me nothing, and I have only ceased supporting my mother on her decease two years ago; while as yet I have no children to take care of me. I possess a trade that can give me but slight assistance: I already find difficulty in carrying it on myself, and as yet I am unable to procure someone to relieve me of the work. I have no other income besides this dole, and if you deprive me of it I might be in danger of finding myself in the most grievous plight.

Do not, therefore, gentlemen, when you can save me justly, ruin me unjustly; what you granted me when I was younger and stronger, do not take from me when I am growing older and weaker; nor, with your previous reputation for showing the utmost compassion even towards those who are in no trouble, be moved now by this man to deal harshly with those who are objects of pity even to their enemies; nor, by having the heart to wrong me, cause everyone else in my situation to despond.

And indeed, how extraordinary the case would be, gentlemen! When my misfortune was but simple, I am found to have been receiving this pension; but now, when old age, diseases, and the ills that attend on them are added to my trouble, I am to be deprived of it!

The depth of my poverty, I believe, can be revealed more clearly by my accuser than by anyone else on earth. For if I were charged with the duty of producing tragic drama, and should challenge him to an exchange of property, he would prefer being the producer ten times over to making the exchange once. Surely it is monstrous that he should now accuse me of having such great affluence that I can consort on equal terms with the wealthiest people, while, in the event of such a thing as I have suggested, he should make that choice. Why, what could be more villainous?

As to my horsemanship, which he has dared to mention to you, feeling neither awe of fortune nor shame before you, there is not much to tell. For I, gentlemen, am of opinion that all who suffer from some affliction make it their single aim and constant study to manage the condition that has befallen them with the least amount of discomfort. I am such an one, and in the misfortune that has stricken me I have devised this facility for myself on the longer journeys that I find necessary.

Sections 11–15

But the strongest proof, gentlemen, of the fact that I mount horses because of my misfortune, and not from insolence, as this man alleges, is this: if I were a man of means, I should ride on a saddled mule, and would not mount other men’s horses. But in fact, as I am unable to acquire anything of the sort, I am compelled, now and again, to use other men’s horses.

Well, I ask you, gentlemen, is it not extraordinary that, if he saw me riding on a saddled mule, he would hold his peace,—for what could he say?—and then, because I mount borrowed horses, he should try to persuade you that I am able-bodied; and that my using two sticks, while others use one, should not be argued by him against me as a sign of being able-bodied, but my mounting horses should be advanced by him as a proof to you that I am able-bodied? For I use both aids for the same reason.

So utterly has he surpassed the whole human race in impudence that he tries with his single voice to persuade you all that I am not classed as disabled. Yet if he should persuade any of you on this point, gentlemen, what hinders me from drawing a lot for election as one of the nine archons, and you from depriving me of my obol as having sound health, and voting it unanimously to this man as being a cripple? For surely, after you have deprived a man of the grant as being able-bodied, the law officers are not going to debar this same person, as being disabled, from drawing a lot!

Nay, indeed, you are not of the same opinion as he is, nor is he either, and rightly so. For he has come here to dispute over my misfortune as if over an heiress, and he tries to persuade you that I am not the sort of man that you all see me to be; but you —as is incumbent on men of good sense —have rather to believe your own eyes than this person’s words.

He says that I am insolent, savage, and utterly abandoned in my behavior, as though he needed the use of terrifying terms to speak the truth, and could not do it in quite gentle language. But I expect you, gentlemen, to distinguish clearly between those people who are at liberty to be insolent and those who are debarred from it.

Sections 16–20

For insolence is not likely to be shown by poor men laboring in the utmost indigence, but by those who possess far more than the necessaries of life; nor by men disabled in body, but by those who have most reason to rely on their own strength; nor by those already advanced in years, but by those who are still young and have a youthful turn of mind.

For the wealthy purchase with their money escape from the risks that they run, whereas the poor are compelled to moderation by the pressure of their want. The young are held to merit indulgence from their elders; but if their elders are guilty of offence, both ages unite in reproaching them.

The strong are at liberty to insult whomsoever they will with impunity, but the weak are unable either to beat off their aggressors when insulted, or to get the better of their victims if they choose to insult. Hence it seems to me that my accuser was not serious in speaking of my insolence, but was only jesting; his purpose was, not to persuade you that such is my nature, but to set me in a comic light, as a fine stroke of fancy.

He further asserts that my shop is the meeting place of a number of rogues who have spent their own money and hatch plots against those who wish to preserve theirs. But you must all take note that these statements of his are no more accusations against me than against anyone else who has a trade, nor against those who visit my shop any more than those who frequent other men of business.

For each of you is in the habit of paying a call at either a perfumer’s or a barber’s or a shoemaker’s shop, or wherever he may chance to go, —in most cases, it is to the tradesmen who have set up nearest the marketplace, and in fewest, to those who are farthest from it. So if any of you should brand with roguery the men who visit my shop, clearly you must do the same to those who pass their time in the shops of others; and if to them, to all the Athenians: for you are all in the habit of paying a call and passing your time at some shop or other.

Sections 21–25

But really I see no need for me to be so very particular in rebutting each one of the statements that he has made, and to weary you any longer. For if I have argued the principal points, what need is there to dwell seriously on trifles in the same way as he does? But I beg you all, gentlemen of the Council, to hold the same views concerning me as you have held till now.

Do not be led by this man to deprive me of the sole benefit in my country of which fortune has granted me a share, nor let this one person prevail on you to withdraw now what you all agreed to grant me in the past. For, gentlemen, since Heaven had deprived us of the chiefest things, the city voted us this pension, regarding the chances of evil and of good as the same for all alike.

Surely I should be the most miserable of creatures if, after being deprived by my misfortune of the fairest and greatest things, the accuser should cause me the loss of that which the city bestowed in her thoughtful care for men in my situation. No, no, gentlemen; you must not vote that way. And why should I find you thus inclined?

Because anyone has ever been brought to trial at my instance and lost his fortune? There is nobody who can prove it. Well, is it that I am a busybody, a hot head, a seeker of quarrels?

That is not the sort of use I happen to make of such means of subsistence as I have. That I am grossly insolent and savage? Even he would not allege this himself, except he should wish to add one more to the series of his lies. Or that I was in power at the time of the Thirty, and oppressed a great number of the citizens? But I went into exile with your people to Chalcis, and when I was free to live secure as a citizen with those persons I chose to depart and share your perils.

Sections 26–27

I therefore ask you, gentlemen of the Council, not to treat me, a man who has committed no offence, in the same way as those who are guilty of numerous wrongs, but to give the same vote as the other Councils did on my case, remembering that I am neither rendering an account of State moneys placed in my charge, nor undergoing now an inquiry into my past proceedings in any office, but that the subject of this speech of mine is merely an obol.

In this way you will all give the decision that is just, while I, in return for that, will feel duly grateful to you; and this man will learn in the future not to scheme against those who are weaker than himself, but only to overreach his equals.