[_Introduction_. Philip became King of Macedonia in 359 B.C. Being in
great difficulties both from external enemies and from internal
division, he made peace with the Athenians, who were supporting the
pretensions of Argaeus to the throne, in the hope of recovering (by
agreement with Argaeus) the colony of Amphipolis on the Strymon, which
they had lost in 424. Philip acknowledged the title of Athens to
Amphipolis, and sent home the Athenian prisoners, whom he had captured
among the supporters of Argaeus, without ransom. The Athenians,
however, neglected to garrison Amphipolis. In 358 (the year in which
Athens temporarily recovered her hold over Euboea, by compelling the
Thebans to evacuate the island), Philip carried on a successful
campaign against the Paeonian and Illyrian tribes, who were standing
enemies of Macedonia. For the next three years Athens was kept occupied
by the war with her allies, and Philip saw his opportunity. He besieged
Amphipolis: when the citizens sent Hierax and Stratocles to ask Athens
for help, he dispatched a letter promising the Athenians that he would
give them Amphipolis when he had taken it; and a secret understanding
was arrived at between Philip and the Athenian envoys sent to him, that
Athens should give him Pydna (once a Macedonian town, but now an ally
of Athens) in exchange. Athens, therefore, listened neither to
Amphipolis nor to Olynthus, which had also made overtures to her. The
Olynthians in consequence made a treaty with Philip, who gave them
Anthemus and promised to help them against their old rival Poteidaea, a
town in alliance with Athens. The Olynthians on their part agreed not
to make peace with Athens except in conjunction with him. But Philip,
when he had captured Amphipolis by a combination of siege and intrigue,
did not give it up to Athens, and instead of waiting to receive Pydna
from Athens, besieged and took it, aided once more by treachery from
within. In 356 he took Poteidaea (in conjunction with the Olynthians,
to whom he gave the town), the Athenians arriving too late to relieve
it; and then pursued his conquests along the Thracian coast. Further
inland he expelled the Thasians (allies of Athens) from Crenides and
founded Philippi on the site, in the centre of the gold-mines of Mount
Pangaeus, from which he henceforward derived a very large revenue;
while the forests of the district provided him with timber for
ship-building, of which he took full advantage: for in the next few
years his ships made descents upon the Athenian islands of Lemnos and
Imbros, plundered the Athenian corn-vessels off the coast of Euboea,
and even landed a force at Marathon. In the latter part of 356 and in
355 he was occupied with the conquest of the Paeonians and Illyrians,
with whom Athens had made an alliance in 356. At the end of 355 he laid
siege to Methone, the last Athenian port on the Thermaic gulf, and
captured it in 354. (Some place the siege and capture of Methone in
354-3, but an inscription, C.I.G. II. 70, makes it at least probable
that the siege had begun by the last month of 355.) In 353 Philip made
his way to the Thracian coast, and conquered Abdera and Maroneia. At
Maroneia we find him in company with Pammenes (his former host at
Thebes), who had been sent by the Thebans to assist Artabazus in his
revolt against the Persian king; and at the same place he received
Apollonides of Cardia, the envoy of the Thracian prince Cersobleptes.
On his way home his ships escaped from Chares, off Neapolis, by a ruse.
In the same year he interfered in the affairs of Thessaly, where the
Aleuadae of Larissa had invited his assistance against Lycophron and
Peitholaus of Pherae, who had invoked the aid of the Phocians. (In
opposing the Phocians, the antagonists of the Thebans in the Sacred
War, Philip was also helping the Thebans themselves, and gaining credit
as the opponent of the plunderers of the temple of Apollo at Delphi.)
Onomarchus, the Phocian leader, twice defeated Philip, but was
overthrown and slain in 352. Philip took Pherae and Pagasae (its port),
occupied Magnesia, and, by means of promises, obtained financial aid
from the Thessalians. The expedition sent by Athens to relieve Pagasae
arrived too late; but when Philip, after putting down the tyrants of
Pherae and arranging matters in Thessaly, advanced towards the Pass of
Thermopylae, an Athenian force, sent on the advice of Diophantus and
Eubulus, appeared in time to oblige him to retire to Macedonia. Late in
the autumn of 352 we find him once more in Thrace. It was probably now
that he assisted the peoples of Byzantium and Perinthus, together with
Amadocus, a rival of Cersobleptes, against the latter; with the result
that Cersobleptes was obliged to give up his son to Philip as a
hostage. Philip had also made alliance with Cardia, which, like
Byzantium, was on bad terms with Athens. He now laid siege to Heraeon
Teichos, a fortress on the Propontis, but illness obliged him to
suspend operations, and the rumour of his death prevented the Athenians
from sending against him the expedition which they had resolved upon.
(The retention of her influence in this region was essential for
Athens, if her corn-supply was to be secure.) In 351, on recovering
from his illness, he entered the territory of Olynthus, which, contrary
to the agreement with him, had made peace with Athens in the previous
year, apart from himself: but he did not at present pursue the invasion
further. In October 351 Athens sent Charidemus to the Hellespont with
ten ships, but no soldiers and little money. If these are the ships
alluded to in § 43 of the present Speech, the Speech must have been
delivered after that date. Otherwise any date after Philip's incursion
into the territory of Olynthus would suit the contents of the Speech,
and many writers place it earlier in the year. The question of the
relations of Athens with Philip had been brought forward; and
Demosthenes, who had risen first to speak, proposes the creation of a
large permanent fleet, and of a smaller force for immediate action,
laying great stress on the necessity of sending Athenian citizens both
to command and to form a substantial proportion of the troops, which,
had so far been mostly mercenaries. The scheme was worked out in
detail, both in its military and in its financial aspects, and
supported with an eloquence and an earnestness which are far in advance
of those displayed in the earlier speeches.
The statement of Dionysius of Halicarnassus, that the Speech as we have
it, is really a conflation of two speeches, of which the second
(beginning at § 30) was delivered in 347, is generally (and rightly)
discredited.]
{1} If some new subject were being brought before us, men of Athens, I
would have waited until most of your ordinary advisers had declared
their opinion; and if anything that they said were satisfactory to me,
I would have remained silent, and only if it were not so, would I have
attempted to express my own view. But since we find ourselves once more
considering a question upon which they have often spoken, I think I may
reasonably be pardoned for rising first of all. For if their advice to
you in the past had been what it ought to have been, you would have had
no occasion for the present debate.
{2} In the first place, then, men of Athens, we must not be downhearted
at our present situation, however wretched it may seem to be. For in
the worst feature of the past lies our best hope for the future-in the
fact, that is, that we are in our present plight because you are not
doing your duty in any respect; for if you were doing all that you
should do, and we were still in this evil case, we could not then even
hope for any improvement. {3} In the second place, you must bear in
mind (what some of you have heard from others, and those who know can
recollect for themselves), how powerful the Spartans were, not long
ago, and yet how noble and patriotic your own conduct was, when instead
of doing anything unworthy of your country you faced the war with
Sparta [n] in defence of the right. [n] Now why do I remind you of
these things? It is because, men of Athens, I wish you to see and to
realize, that so long as you are on your guard you have nothing to
fear; but that if you are indifferent, nothing can be as you would
wish: for this is exemplified for you both by the power of Sparta in
those days, to which you rose superior because you gave your minds to
your affairs; and by the insolence of Philip to-day, which troubles us
because we care nothing for the things which should concern us. {4} If,
however, any of you, men of Athens, when he considers the immense force
now at Philip's command, and the city's loss of all her strongholds,
thinks that Philip is a foe hard to conquer, I ask him (right though he
is in his belief) to reflect also that there was a time when we
possessed Pydna and Poteidaea and Methone; when all the surrounding
country was our own, and many of the tribes [n] which are now on his
side were free and independent, and more inclined to be friendly to us
than to him. {5} Now if in those days Philip had made up his mind that
it was a hard thing to fight against the Athenians, with all their
fortified outposts on his own frontiers, while he was destitute of
allies, he would have achieved none of his recent successes, nor
acquired this great power. But Philip saw quite clearly, men of Athens,
that all these strongholds were prizes of war, displayed for
competition. He saw that in the nature of things the property of the
absent belongs to those who are on the spot, and that of the negligent
to those who are ready for toil and danger. {6} It is, as you know, by
acting upon this belief, that he has brought all those places under his
power, and now holds them--some of them by right of capture in war,
others in virtue of alliances and friendly understandings; for every
one is willing to grant alliance and to give attention to those whom
they see to be prepared and ready to take action as is necessary. {7}
If then, men of Athens, you also will resolve to adopt this principle
to-day--the principle which you have never observed before--if each of
you can henceforward be relied upon to throw aside all this pretence of
incapacity, and to act where his duty bids him, and where his services
can be of use to his country; if he who has money will contribute, and
he who is of military age will join the campaign; if, in one plain
word, you will resolve henceforth to depend absolutely on yourselves,
each man no longer hoping that he will need to do nothing himself, and
that his neighbour will do everything for him; then, God willing, you
will recover your own; you will take back all that your indolence has
lost, and you will have your revenge upon Philip. {8} Do not imagine
that his fortune is built to last for ever, as if he were a God. He
also has those who hate him and fear him, men of Athens, and envy him
too, even among those who now seem to be his closest friends. All the
feelings that exist in any other body of men must be supposed to exist
in Philip's supporters. Now, however, all such feelings are cowed
before him: your slothful apathy has taken away their only rallying
point; and it is this apathy that I bid you put off to-day. {9} Mark
the situation, men of Athens: mark the pitch which the man's outrageous
insolence has reached, when he does not even give you a choice between
action and inaction, but threatens you, and utters (as we are told)
haughty language: for he is not the man to rest content in possession
of his conquests: he is always casting his net wider; and while we
procrastinate and sit idle, he is setting his toils around us on every
side. {10} When, then, men of Athens, when, I say, will you take the
action that is required? What are you waiting for? 'We are waiting,'
you say, 'till it is necessary.' But what must we think of all that is
happening at this present time? Surely the strongest necessity that a
free people can experience is the shame which they must feel at their
position! What? Do you want to go round asking one another, 'Is there
any news?' Could there be any stranger news than that a man of
Macedonia is defeating Athenians in war, and ordering the affairs of
the Hellenes? {11} 'Is Philip dead?' 'No, but he is sick.' And what
difference does it make to you? For if anything should happen to him,
you will soon raise up for yourselves a second Philip, if it is thus
that you attend to your interests. Indeed, Philip himself has not risen
to this excessive height through his own strength, so much as through
our neglect. I go even further. {12} If anything happened to Philip--if
the operation of Fortune, who always cares for us better than we care
for ourselves, were to effect this too for us--you know that if you
were at hand, you could descend upon the general confusion and order
everything as you wished; but in your present condition, even if
circumstances offered you Amphipolis, you could not take it; for your
forces and your minds alike are far away.
{13} Well, I say no more of the obligation which rests upon you all to
be willing and ready to do your duty; I will assume that you are
resolved and convinced. But the nature of the armament which, I
believe, will set you free from such troubles as these, the numbers of
the force, the source from which we must obtain funds, and the best and
quickest way, as it seems to me, of making all further
preparations--all this, men of Athens, I will at once endeavour to
explain when I have made one request of you. {14} Give your verdict on
my proposal when you have heard the whole of it; do not prejudge it
before I have done; and if at first the force which I propose appears
unprecedented, do not think that I am merely creating delays. It is not
those whose cry is 'At once', 'To-day', whose proposals will meet our
need; for what has already happened cannot be prevented by any
expedition now. {15} It is rather he who can show the nature, the
magnitude, and the financial possibility of a force which when provided
will be able to continue in existence either until we are persuaded to
break off the war, or until we have overcome the enemy; for thus only
can we escape further calamity for the future. These things I believe I
can show, though I would not stand in the way of any other speaker's
professions. It is no less a promise than this that I make; the event
will soon test its fulfilment, and you will be the judges of it.
First then, men of Athens, I say that fifty warships must {16} at once
be got in readiness: and next, that you must be in such a frame of mind
that, if any need arises, you will embark in person and sail. In
addition, you must prepare transports for half our cavalry, and a
sufficient number of boats. {17} These, I think, should be in readiness
to meet those sudden sallies of his from his own country against
Thermopylae, the Chersonese, Olynthus, and any other place which he may
select. For we must make him realize that there is a possibility of
your rousing yourselves out of your excessive indifference, just as
when once you went to Euboea,[n] and before that (as we are told) to
Haliartus,[n] and finally, only the other day, to Thermopylae. {18}
Such a possibility, even if you are unlikely to make it a reality, as I
think you ought to do, is not one which he can treat lightly; and you
may thus secure one of two objects. On the one hand, he may know that
you are on the alert--he will in fact know it well enough: there are
only too many persons, I assure you, in Athens itself, who report to
him all that happens here: and in that case his apprehensions will
ensure his inactivity. But if, on the other hand, he neglects the
warning, he may be taken off his guard; for there will be nothing to
hinder you from sailing to his country, if he gives you the
opportunity. {19} These are the measures upon which I say you should
all be resolved, and your preparations for them made. But before this,
men of Athens, you must make ready a force which will fight without
intermission, and do him damage. Do not speak to me of ten thousand or
twenty thousand mercenaries. I will have none of your paper-armies. [n]
Give me an army which will be the army of Athens, and will obey and
follow the general whom you elect, be there one general or more, be he
one particular individual, or be he who he may. {20} You must also
provide maintenance for this force. Now what is this force to be? how
large is it to be? how is it to be maintained? how will it consent to
act in this manner? I will answer these questions point by point. The
number of mercenaries--but you must not repeat the mistake which has so
often injured you, the mistake of, first, thinking any measures
inadequate, and so voting for the largest proposal, and then, when the
time for action comes, not even executing the smaller one; you must
rather carry out and make provision for the smaller measure, and add to
it, if it proves too small--{21} the total number of soldiers, I say,
must be two thousand, and of these five hundred must be Athenians,
beginning from whatever age you think good: they must serve for a
definite period--not a long one, but one to be fixed at your
discretion--and in relays. The rest must be mercenaries. With these
must be cavalry, two hundred in number, of whom at least fifty must be
Athenians, as with the infantry; and the conditions of service must be
the same. {22} You must also find transports for these. And what next?
Ten swift ships of war. For as he has a fleet, we need swift-sailing
warships too, to secure the safe passage of the army. And how is
maintenance to be provided for these? This also I will state and
demonstrate, as soon as I have given you my reasons for thinking that a
force of this size is sufficient, and for insisting that those who
serve in it shall be citizens.
{23} The size of the force, men of Athens, is determined by the fact
that we cannot at present provide an army capable of meeting Philip in
the open field; we must make plundering forays, and our warfare must at
first be of a predatory nature. Consequently the force must not be
over-big--we could then neither pay nor feed it--any more than it must
be wholly insignificant. {24} The presence of citizens in the force
that sails I require for the following reasons. I am told that Athens
once maintained a mercenary force in Corinth,[n] under the command of
Polystratus, Iphicrates, Chabrias and others, and that you yourselves
joined in the campaign with them; and I remember hearing that these
mercenaries, when they took the field with you, and you with them, were
victorious over the Spartans. But even since your mercenary forces have
gone to war alone, it is your friends and allies that they conquer,
while your enemies have grown more powerful than they should be. After
a casual glance at the war to which Athens has sent them, they sail off
to Artabazus,[n] or anywhere rather than to the war; and the general
follows them naturally enough, for his power over them is gone when he
can give them no pay. You ask what I bid you do. {25} I bid you take
away their excuses both from the general and the soldiers, by supplying
pay and placing citizen-soldiers at their side as spectators of these
mysteries of generalship;[n] for our present methods are a mere
mockery. Imagine the question to be put to you, men of Athens, whether
you are at peace or no. 'At peace?' you would say; 'Of course not! We
are at war with Philip.' {26} Now have you not all along been electing
from among your own countrymen ten captains and generals,[n] and
cavalry-officers, and two masters-of-the-horse? and what are they
doing? Except the one single individual whom you happen to send to the
seat of war, they are all marshalling your processions for you with the
commissioners of festivals. You are no better than men modelling
puppets of clay. Your captains and your cavalry-officers are elected to
be displayed in the streets, not to be sent to the war. {27} Surely,
men of Athens, your captains should be elected from among yourselves,
and your master-of-the-horse from among yourselves; your officers
should be your own countrymen, if the force is to be really the army of
Athens. As it is, the master-of-the-horse who is one of yourselves has
to sail to Lemnos; while the master-of-the-horse with the army that is
fighting to defend the possessions of Athens is Menelaus.[n] I do not
wish to disparage that gentleman; but whoever holds that office ought
to have been elected by you.
{28} Perhaps, however, while agreeing with all that I have said, you
are mainly anxious to hear my financial proposals, which will tell you
the amount and the sources of the funds required. I proceed, therefore,
with these at once. First for the sum. The cost of the bare rations for
the crews, with such a force, will be 90 talents and a little over--40
talents for ten swift ships, and 20 minae a month for each ship; and
for the soldiers as much again, each soldier to receive rations to the
value of 10 drachmae a month; and for the cavalry (two hundred in
number, each to receive 30 drachmae a month) twelve talents. {29} It
may be said that the supply of bare rations to the members of the force
is an insufficient initial provision; but this is a mistake. I am quite
certain that, given so much, the army will provide everything else for
itself from the proceeds of war, without injury to a single Hellene or
ally of ours, and that the full pay will be made up by these means. I
am ready to sail as a volunteer and to suffer the worst, if my words
are untrue. The next question then is of ways and means, in so far as
the funds are to come from yourselves. I will explain this at once.
[_A schedule of ways and means is read_.]
{30} This, men of Athens, is what we have been able to devise; and when
you put our proposals to the vote, you will pass them, if you approve
of them; that so your war with Philip may be a war, not of resolutions
and dispatches, but of actions.
{31} I believe that the value of your deliberations about the war and
the armament as a whole would be greatly enhanced, if you were to bear
in mind the situation of the country against which you are fighting,
remembering that most of Philip's plans are successfully carried out
because he takes advantage of winds and seasons; for he waits for the
Etesian winds[n] or the winter-season, and only attacks when it would
be impossible for us to effect a passage to the scene of action. {32}
Bearing this in mind, we must not carry on the war by means of isolated
expeditions; we shall always be too late. We must have a permanent
force and armament. As our winter-stations for the army we have Lemnos,
Thasos, Sciathos, and the islands in that region, which have harbours
and corn, and are well supplied with all that an army needs. And as to
the time of year, whenever it is easy to approach the shore and the
winds are not dangerous, our force can without difficulty lie close to
the Macedonian coast itself, and block the mouths of the ports.
{33} How and when he will employ the force is a matter to be
determined, when the time comes, by the commander whom you put in
control of it. What must be provided from Athens is described in the
scheme which I have drafted. If, men of Athens, you first supply the
sum I have mentioned, and then, after making ready the rest of the
armament--soldiers, ships, cavalry--bind the whole force in its
entirety,[n] by law, to remain at the seat of war; if you become your
own paymasters, your own commissioners of supply, but require your
general to account for the actual operations; {34} then there will be
an end of these perpetual discussions of one and the same theme, which
end in nothing but discussion: and in addition to this, men of Athens,
you will, in the first place, deprive him of his chief source of
supply. For what is this? Why, he carries on the war at the cost of
your own allies, harrying and plundering those who sail the seas! And
what will you gain besides this? You will place yourselves out of reach
of disaster. It will not be as it was in the past, when he descended
upon Lemnos and Imbros, and went off, with your fellow-citizens as his
prisoners of war, or when he seized the vessels off Geraestus,[n] and
levied an enormous sum from them; or when (last of all) he landed at
Marathon, seized the sacred trireme,[n] and carried it off from the
country; while all the time you can neither prevent these aggressions,
nor yet send an expedition which will arrive when you intend it to
arrive. {35} But for what reason do you think, men of Athens, do the
festival of the Panathenaea and the festival of the Dionysia[n] always
take place at the proper time, whether those to whom the charge of
either festival is allotted are specially qualified persons or
not--festivals upon which you spend larger sums of money than upon any
armament whatsoever, and which involve an amount of trouble[n] and
preparation, which are unique, so far as I know, in the whole world--;
and yet your armaments are always behind the time--at Methone, at
Pagasae, at Potidaea? {36} It is because for the festivals all is
arranged by law. Each of you knows long beforehand who is to supply the
chorus,[n] and who is to be steward of the games,[n] for his tribe: he
knows what he is to receive, and when, and from whom, and what he is to
do with it. No detail is here neglected, nothing is left indefinite.
But in all that concerns war and our preparation for it, there is no
organization, no revision, no definiteness. Consequently it is not
until the news comes that we appoint our trierarchs and institute
exchanges of property for them, and inquire into ways and means. When
that is done, we first resolve that the resident aliens and the
independent freedmen[n] shall go on board; then we change our minds and
say that citizens shall embark; then that we will send substitutes; and
while all these delays are occurring, the object of the expedition is
already lost. {37} For we spend on preparation the time when we should
be acting, and the opportunities which events afford will not wait for
our slothful evasions; while as for the forces on which we think we can
rely in the meantime, when the critical moment comes, they are tried
and found wanting. And Philip's insolence has reached such a pitch,
that he has sent such a letter as the following to the Euboeans.
[_The letter is read_.]
{38} The greater part of the statements that have been read are true,
men of Athens; and they ought not to be true! but I admit that they may
possibly be unpleasant to hear; and if the course of future events
would pass over all that a speaker passes over in his speech, to avoid
giving pain, we should be right in speaking with a view to your
pleasure. But if attractive words, spoken out of season, bring their
punishment in actual reality, then it is disgraceful to blind our eyes
to the truth, to put off everything that is unpleasant, {39} to refuse
to understand even so much as this, that those who conduct war rightly
must not follow in the wake of events, but must be beforehand with
them: for just as a general may be expected to lead his army, so those
who debate must lead the course of affairs, in order that what they
resolve upon may be done, and that they may not be forced to follow at
the heels of events. {40} You, men of Athens, have the greatest power
in the world-warships, infantry, cavalry, revenue. But none of these
elements of power have you used as you ought, down to this very day.
The method of your warfare with Philip is just that of barbarians in a
boxing-match. Hit one of them, and he hugs the place; hit him on the
other side, and there go his hands; but as for guarding, or looking his
opponent in the face, he neither can nor will do it. {41} It is the
same with you. If you hear that Philip is in the Chersonese, you
resolve to make an expedition there; if he is at Thermopylae, you send
one there; and wherever else he may be, you run up and down in his
steps. It is he that leads your forces. You have never of yourselves
come to any salutary decision in regard to the war. No single event do
you ever discern before it occurs--before you have heard that something
has happened or is happening. Perhaps there was room for this
backwardness until now; but now we are at the very crisis, and such an
attitude is possible no longer. {42} Surely, men of Athens, it is one
of the gods--one who blushes for Athens, as he sees the course which
events are taking--that has inspired Philip with this restless
activity. If he were content to remain at peace, in possession of all
that he has won by conquest or by forestalling us--if he had no further
plans--even then, the record against us as a people, a record of shame
and cowardice and all that is most dishonourable, would, I think, seem
complete enough to some of you. But now he is always making some new
attempt, always grasping after something more; and unless your spirit
has utterly departed, his conduct will perhaps bring you out into the
field. {43} It amazes me, men of Athens, that not one of you remembers
with any indignation, that this war had its origin in our intention to
punish Philip; and that now, at the end of it, the question is, how we
are to escape disaster at his hands. But that he will not stay his
progress until some one arrests it is plain enough. Are we then to wait
for that? Do you think that all is right, when you dispatch nothing but
empty ships and somebody's hopes? Shall we not embark? {44} Shall we
not now, if never before, go forth ourselves, and provide at least some
small proportion of Athenian soldiers? Shall we not sail to the enemy's
country? But I heard the question, 'At what point on his coast are we
to anchor?' The war itself, men of Athens, if you take it in hand, will
discover his weak points: but if we sit at home listening to the mutual
abuse and recriminations of our orators, you can never realize any of
the results that you ought to realize. {45} I believe that whenever any
portion of Athens is sent with the forces, even if the whole city does
not go, the favour of Heaven and of Fortune fights on our side. But
whenever you dispatch anywhere a general with an empty resolution and
some platform-hopes to support him, then you achieve nothing that you
ought to achieve, your enemies laugh at you, and your allies are in
deadly fear of all such armaments. {46} It is impossible, utterly
impossible, that any one man should be able to effect all that you wish
for you. He can give undertakings and promises;[n] he can accuse this
man and that; and the result is that your fortunes are ruined. For when
the general is at the head of wretched, unpaid mercenaries, and when
there are those in Athens who lie to you light-heartedly about all that
he does, and, on the strength of the tales that you hear, you pass
decrees at random, what _must_ you expect?
{47} How then can this state of things be terminated? Only, men of
Athens, when you expressly make the same men soldiers, witnesses of
their general's actions, and judges at his examination[n] when they
return home; for then the issue of your fortunes will not be a tale
which you hear, but a thing which you will be on the spot to see. So
shameful is the pass which matters have now reached, that each of your
generals is tried for his life before you two or three times, but does
not dare to fight in mortal combat with the enemy even once. They
prefer the death of kidnappers and brigands to that of a general. {48}
For it is a felon's death, to die by sentence of the court: the death
of a general is to fall in battle with the enemy. Some of us go about
saying that Philip is negotiating with Sparta[n] for the overthrow of
the Thebans and the breaking up of the free states; others, that he has
sent ambassadors to the king;[n] others, that he is fortifying cities
in Illyria. {49} We all go about inventing each his own tale. I quite
believe, men of Athens, that he is intoxicated with the greatness of
his successes, and entertains many such visions in his mind; for he
sees that there are none to hinder him, and he is elated at his
achievements. But I do not believe that he has chosen to act in such a
way that the most foolish persons in Athens can know what he intends to
do; for no persons are so foolish as newsmongers. {50} But if we
dismiss all such tales, and attend only to the certainty--that the man
is our enemy, that he is robbing us of our own, that he has insulted us
for a long time, that all that we ever expected any one to do for us
has proved to be against us, that the future is in our own hands, that
if we will not fight him now in his own country we shall perhaps be
obliged to do so in ours--if, I say, we are assured of this, then we
shall have made up our minds aright, and shall be quit of idle words.
For you have not to speculate what the future may be: you have only to
be assured that the future must be evil, unless you give heed and are
ready to do your duty.
{51} Well, I have never yet chosen to gratify you by saying anything
which I have not felt certain would be for your good; and to-day I have
spoken freely and without concealment, just what I believe. I could
wish to be as sure of the good that a speaker will gain by giving you
the best advice as of that which you will gain by listening to him. I
should then have been far happier than I am. As it is, I do not know
what will happen to me, for what I have said: but I have chosen to
speak in the sure conviction that if you carry out my proposals, it
will be for your good; and may the victory rest with that policy which
will be for the good of all!