DEMOSTHENES

One of the most disquieting facts that history teaches is the inability

of the most enlightened and patriotic men to "discern the signs of the

times". To us the collapse of the Greek city-states seems natural and

inevitable. Their constant bickerings and petty jealousies justly drew

down upon them the armed might of the ambitious and capable power which

destroyed them. Their fate may fill us with pity and our admiration

for those who fought in a losing cause may prejudice us against their

enslavers. But just as the Norman Conquest in the long run brought more

blessing than misery, so the downfall of the Greek commonwealths was the

first step to the conquering progress of the Greek type of civilisation

through the whole world. Our Harold, fighting manfully yet vainly

against an irresistible tendency, has his counterpart in the last

defender of the ancient liberties of Greece.

Demosthenes was born in 384 of a well-to-do business man who died eight

years later. The guardians whom he appointed appropriated the estate,

leaving Demosthenes and his sister in straitened circumstances. On

coming of age the young man brought a suit against his trustees in 363,

of whom Aphobus was the most fraudulent. Though he won the case, much

of his property was irretrievably lost. Nor were his first efforts at

public speaking prophetic of future greatness. His voice was thin, his

demeanour awkward, his speech indistinct; his style was laboured,

being an obvious blend of Thucydides with Isaeus, an old and practised

pleader. Yet he was ambitious and determined; he longed to copy the

career of Pericles, the noblest of Athenian statesmen. The stories of

his self-imposed exercises and their happy issue are well known; his

days he spent in declaiming on the sea-shore with pebbles in his mouth,

his nights in copying and recopying Thucydides; the speeches which have

come down to us show clearly the gradual evolution of the great style

well worthy of the greatest of all themes, national salvation.

It will be necessary to explain a convention of the Athenian law courts.

A litigant was obliged to plead his own case; if he was unable to

compose his own speech, he applied to some professional retailer of

orations who would write it for him. The art of these speech-writers

was of varying excellence. A first-class practitioner would not only

discover the real or the supposed facts of the dispute, he would divine

the real character of his client, and write the particular type

of speech which would seem most natural on such a person's lips.

Considerable knowledge of human nature was required in such an exciting

and delicate profession, although the author did not always succeed in

concealing his identity. Demosthenes had his share of this experience;

he wrote for various customers speeches on various subjects; one

concerns a dowry dispute, another a claim for compensation for damage

caused by a water-course, another deals with an adoption, another was

written for a wealthy banker. Assault and battery, ship-scuttling, undue

influence of attractive females on the weaker sex, maritime trickery

of all kinds, citizen rights, are all treated in the so-called private

speeches, of which some are of considerable value as illustrating legal

or mercantile or social etiquette.

Public suits were of the same nature; the speeches were composed by one

person and delivered by another. Such are the speech against _Androtion_

for illegal practices, against _Timocrates_ for embezzlement and the

important speech against _Aristocrates_, in which for the first time

Demosthenes seems to have become aware of the real designs of

Macedonia. The speech against the law of _Leptines_, delivered in 354 by

Demosthenes himself, is of value as displaying the gradual development

of his characteristic style; in it we have the voice and the words of

the same man, who is talking with a sense of responsibility about a

constitutional anomaly.

But for us the real Demosthenes is he who spoke on questions of State

policy. This subject alone can call out the best qualities in an orator

as distinct from a rhetorician; the tricks and bad arguments which are

so often employed to secure condemnation or acquittal in a law court are

inapplicable or undignified in a matter of vital national import. But

before the great enemy arose to threaten Greek liberty, it happened that

Fortune was kind enough to afford Demosthenes excellent practice in a

parliamentary discussion of two if not three questions of importance.

In 354 there was much talk of a possible war with Persia. Demosthenes

first addresses the sword-rattlers. "To the braggarts and jingoes I say

that it is not difficult--not even when we need sound advice--to win

a reputation for courage and to appear a clever speaker when danger is

very near. The really difficult duty is to show courage in danger and

in the council-chamber to give sounder advice than anybody else." His

belief was that war was not a certainty, but it would be better to

revise the whole naval system. A detailed scheme to assure the requisite

number of ships in fighting-trim follows, so sensible that it commands

immediate respect. The speaker estimates the wealth of Attica, maps

it out into divisions, each able to bear the expense of the warships

assigned to it. To a possible objection that it would be better to raise

the money by increased taxation he answers with the grim irony natural

to him (he seems to be utterly devoid of humour).

"What you could raise at present is more ridiculous than if you

raised nothing at all. A hundred and twenty talents? What are they

to the twelve hundred camels which they say carry Persia's revenues?"

He refuses to believe that a Greek mercenary army would fight against

its country, while the Thebans, who notoriously sided with Persia

in 480, would give much for an opportunity of redeeming this old sin

against Greece.

"The rest of the Greeks, as long as they considered the Persian

their common enemy, had numerous blessings; but when they began to

regard him as their friend they experienced such woes as no man could

have invented for them even in his curses. Whom then Providence and

Destiny have shown useless as a friend and most advantageous as a foe,

shall we fear? Rather let us commit no injustice for our own sakes and

save the rest from commotion and strife."

Such is the outline of the speech on the _Navy-boards_. Two years

later he displayed qualities of no mean order. Sparta and Thebes were

quarrelling for the leadership. Arcadia had revolted from Sparta, the

centre of the disaffection being _Megalopolis_; ambassadors from the

latter city and from Sparta begged Athenian aid. In the heat of the

excitement men's judgments were not to be trusted. "The difficulty of

giving sound advice is well known," says the orator.

"If a man tries to take a middle course and you have not the

patience to hear, he will win the approval of neither party but

will be maligned by both. If such a fate awaits me, I would rather

appear to be talking nonsense than allow any party to deceive you

into what I know is not your wisest policy."

The question was, should Athens join Thebes or Sparta, both ancient

foes?

"I would like to ask those who say they hate either, whether they

hate the one for the sake of the other or for your sake. If for the

sake of the other party, then you can trust neither, for both are mad;

if for your sake, why do they try to strengthen one of these two

cities unduly? You can with perfect ease keep Thebes weak without

making Sparta strong, as I will prove. You will find that the main

cause of woe and ruin is unwillingness to act with simple honesty."

After a rapid calculation of possibilities he suggests the following

plan.

"War between Thebes and Sparta is certain. If Thebes is beaten to

the ground, as she deserves to be, Sparta will not be unduly powerful,

for these Arcadian neighbours will restore the balance; if Thebes

recovers and saves herself, she will still be weak if you ally

yourselves with Arcadia and protect her. It is expedient then in

every way neither to sacrifice Arcadia nor let that country imagine

that it survives through its own power or through any other power than

yours."

The calm voice of the cool-headed statesman is everywhere audible in

this admirable little speech.

The power of discounting personal resentment and thinking soberly is

apparent in the speech for the _Freedom of Rhodes_, delivered about this

time. Rhodes had offended Athens by revolting in the Social war of 357-5

with the help of the well-known Carian king Mausolus. For a time that

monarch had treated Rhodes well; later he overthrew the democracy and

placed the power in the hands of the oligarchs. When Queen Artemisia

succeeded to the throne of Caria the democrats begged Athens to aid

them in recovering their liberty. Deprecating passion of any kind,

Demosthenes points out the real question at issue. The record of the

oligarchs is a bad one; to overthrow the democracy they had won over

some of the leading citizens whom they banished when they had attained

their object. Their faithless conduct promised no hope of a firm

alliance with Athens. The Rhodian question was to be the acid test of

her political creed.

"Look at this fact, gentlemen. You have fought many a war against

both democracies and oligarchies, as you well know. But the real

object of these wars perhaps none of you considers. Against

democracies you fight for private grievances which cannot be settled

in public, or for territory or boundaries or for domination. Against

oligarchies you fight for none of these things, but for your

constitution and freedom. I would not hesitate to say that I consider

it more to your advantage should become democratic and fight you than

turn oligarchic and be your friends. I am certain that it would not

be difficult for you to make peace with freeconstitutions; with

oligarchies your friendship would not even be secure, for it is

impossible that they in their lust for power could cherish kindness

for a State whose policy is based on freedom of speech."

"Even if we were to say that Rhodes richly deserves her sufferings,

this is the wrong time to gloat. Prosperous cities ought always to

show that they desire every good for the unfortunate, for the future

is dark to us all."

His conclusion is this.

"Any person who abandons the post assigned to him by his commander

you disfranchise and exclude from public life. Even so all who desert

the political tradition bequeathed you by your ancestors and turn

oligarchs you ought to banish from your Council. As it is you trust

politicians who you know for certain side with your country's enemies."

These three speeches indicate plainly enough the kind of man who was

soon to make himself heard in a more important question. Instead of

a frothy and excitable harangue that might have been looked for in

a warm-blooded Southern orator we find a dignified and apparently

cool-headed type of speech based on sound sense, full of practical

proposals, fearless, manly and above all noble because it relies

on righteousness. An intelligence of no mean order has in each case

discarded personal feeling and has pointed out the one bed-rock fact

which ought to be the foundation of a sound policy. More than this; for

the first time an Attic orator has deliberately set to work to create a

new type of prose, based on a cadence and rhythm. This new language at

times runs away with its inventor; experience was to show him that in

this matter as in all others the consummate artist hides the art whereof

he is master.

By 352 Greece had become aware that her liberties were to be threatened

not from the East, but from Macedonia. Trained in the Greek practice

of arms and diplomacy, her king Philip within seven years had created

a powerful military system. His first object was to obtain control of a

seaboard. In carrying out this policy he had to reduce Amphipolis on

the Strymon in Thrace, Olynthus in Chalcidice, and Athenian power

centralised in Potidaea, a little south of Olynthus, and on the other

side of the Gulf of Therma in Pydna and Methone. Pydna he secured in 357

by trickery; Amphipolis had passed under his control through inexcusable

Athenian slackness earlier in the same year. Potidaea fell in 356 and

Methone, the last Athenian stronghold, in 353. Pagasae succumbed in 352;

with it Philip obtained absolute command of the sea-coast.

In the same year a Macedonian attempt to pass Thermopylae was met by

vigorous Athenian action; a strong force held the defile, preventing a

further advance southward. In the next year the Athenian pacifist party

was desirous of dropping further resistance. This policy caused the

delivery of the _First Philippic_. It is a stirring appeal to the

country to shake off its lethargy. Nothing but personal service would

enable her to recover the lost strongholds. "In my opinion," it says,

"the greatest compelling power that can move men is the disgrace of

their condition. Do you desire to stroll about asking one another for

news? What newer news do you want than that a Macedonian is warring down

Athens? Philip sick or Philip dead makes no difference to you. If

he died you would soon raise up for yourselves another Philip if you

continue your present policy."

With statesmanlike care Demosthenes makes concrete proposals for the

creation of a standing force of citizens ready to serve in the ranks;

at present their generals and captains are puppets for the pretty

march-past in the public square. He estimates the cost of upkeep and

shows that it is possible to maintain a force in perfect efficiency;

he lays particular stress on creating a base of operations in Macedonia

itself, otherwise fleets sailing north might be checked by trade winds.

"Too late" is the curse of Athenian action; a vacillating policy ruins

every expedition.

"Such a system was possible earlier, but now we are on the razor's

edge. In my opinion some god in utter shame at our history has

inspired Philip with his restlessness. If he had been content with

his conquests and annexations, some of you would be quite satisfied

with a position which would have branded our name with infamy and

cowardice; as it is, perhaps his unceasing aggressions and lust for

extension might spur you--unless you are utterly past redemption."

He grimly refutes all those well-informed persons who "happen to know"

Philip's object--we had scores of them in our own late war.

"Why, of course he is intoxicated at the magnitude of his successes

and builds castles in the air; but I am quite sure that he will

never choose a policy such that the most hopeless fools here are

likely to know what it is, for gossipers are hopeless fools."

It should be remembered that these are the words of a young man of

thirty-four, unconnected with any party, yet capable of forming a sane

policy. That they are great words will be obvious to anyone who replaces

the name of Philip by that of his country's enemy; the result is

startling indeed.

The last and most formidable problem Philip had yet to solve, the

destruction of Olynthus, the centre of a great confederation of

thirty-two towns. Military work against it was begun in 349 and led at

once to an appeal to Athens for assistance. The pacifists and traitors

were busy intriguing for Philip; Demosthenes delivered three speeches

for Olynthus. The _First Olynthiac_ sounds the right note.

"The present crisis all but cries aloud saying that you must tackle

the problem your own selves if you have any concern for salvation.

The great privilege of a military autocrat, that he is his own

Cabinet, Commander-in-Chief, and Chancellor of the Exchequer, that

he is everywhere personally in service with his army, gives him an

enormous advantage for the speedy and timely performance of military

duties, but it makes him incapable of obtaining from Olynthus the

truce he longs for. Olynthus now knows she is fighting not for glory

or territory but to avoid ejection and slavery. She has before her

eyes his treatment of Amphipolis and Pydna. In a word, despotism is

a thing no free country can trust, especially if it is its neighbour."

He warns his hearers that once Olynthus falls, there is nothing to

hinder Philip from marching straight on Athens.

A definite policy is then suggested.

"Carping criticism is easy; any person can indulge in it; but only

a statesman can show what is to be done to meet a pressing difficulty.

I know well enough that if anything goes wrong you lose your tempers

not with the guilty persons, but with the last speaker. Yet for all

that, no thought of private safety will make me conceal what I believe

to be our soundest course of action."

By a perfectly scandalous abuse, the surplus funds of the State Treasury

had been doled out to the poor to enable them to witness plays in

the theatre, on the understanding that the doles should cease if war

expenses had to be met. In time the lower orders came to consider the

dole as their right, backed by the demagogues refused to surrender it.

This theatre-fund Demosthenes did not yet venture to attack, for it

was dangerous to do so. He had no alternative but to propose additional

taxes on the rich. He concludes with an admirable peroration.

"You must all take a comprehensive view of these questions and

bear a hand in staving off the war into Macedonia. The rich must

spend a little of their possessions to enjoy the residue without

fear; the men of military age must gain their experience of war

in Philip's country and make themselves formidable defenders of

their own soil; the speakers must facilitate an enquiry into their

own conduct, that the citizen body may criticise their policy

according to the political situation at the moment. May the result

be good on every ground."

The _Second Olynthiac_ strikes a higher note, that of indignant protest

against the perfidy of Macedonian diplomacy.

"When a State is built on unanimity, when allies in a war find

their interests identical, men gladly labour together, bearing

their troubles and sticking to their task. But when a power like

Philip's is strong through greed and villainy, on the first pretext

or the slightest set-back the whole system is upset and dismembered.

Injustice and perjury and lies cannot win a solid power; they

survive for a brief and fleeting period and show many a blossom of

promise perhaps, but time finds them out; their leaves soon wither

away. Houses or ships need foundations of great strength; policies

require truth and righteousness as their origin and first principles.

Such are not to be found in Philip's career."

A history of Macedonian progress shows the weak places in the system.

"Success throws a veil over these at present, for prosperity shrouds

many a scandal. If he makes one false step, all his vices will come

into the clearest relief; this will soon become obvious under

Heaven's guidance, if you will only show some energy. As long as a

man is in health, he is unaware of his weaknesses, but when sickness

overtakes him, his whole constitution is upset. Cities and despots

are the same; while they are invading their neighbours their secret

evils are invisible, but when they are in the grip of an internal war

these weaknesses all become quite evident."

An exhortation to personal service is succeeded by a protest against a

parochial view of politics which causes petty jealousies and paralyses

joint action. The whole State should take its turn at doing some war

duty.

In the _Third Olynthiac_ Demosthenes takes the bull by the horns.

The insane theatre-doles were sapping the revenues badly needed for

financing the fight for existence. Olynthus at last was aware of her

danger; she could be aided not by passing decrees, but by annulling

some.

"I will tell you quite plainly I mean the laws about the

theatre-fund. When you have done that and when you make it safe

for your speakers to give you the best advice, then you may expect

somebody to propose what you all know is to your interest. The men

to repeal these laws are those who proposed them. It is unfair that

they who passed them should be popular for damaging the State while

a statesman who proposes a measure which would benefit us all should

be rewarded with public hatred. Before you have set this matter right

you cannot expect to find among you a superman who will violate these

laws with impunity or a fool who will run his head into a manifest

noose."

With the same superb courage he tackles the demagogues who are the cause

of all the mischief.

"Ever since the present type of orator has appeared who asks

anxiously, 'What do you want? What can I propose? What can I give

you?' the city's prestige has melted in compliment; the net result

is that these men have made their fortunes while the city is

disgraced."

A bitter contrast shows how the earlier popular leaders made Athens

wealthy, dominant and respected; the modern sort had lost territory,

spent a mint of money on nothing, alienated good allies and raised up

a trained enemy. But there is one thing to their credit, they had

whitewashed the city walls, had repaired roads and fountains. And the

trade of public speaking is profitable. Some of the demagogues' houses

are more splendid than the public buildings; as individuals they have

prospered in exact proportion as the State is reduced to impotence. In

fact, they have secured control of the constitution; their system of

bribery and spoon-feeding has tamed the democracy and made it obedient

to the hand. "I should not be surprised," he continues,

"if my words bring me into greater trouble than the men who have

started these abuses. Freedom of speech on every subject before you

is not possible--I am surprised that you have not already howled me

down."

The doles he compares to the snacks prescribed by doctors; they cannot

help keep a patient properly alive and will not allow him to die.

Personal service and an end of gratuities is insisted upon.

"Without adding or taking away, only slightly altering our present

chaos, I have suggested a uniform scheme whereby each man can do

the duties fitted to his years and his opportunities. I have nowhere

proposed that you should divide the earnings of the workers among

the unemployable, nor that you should slack and amuse yourselves and

be reduced to beggary while somebody else is fighting for you--for

that is what is happening now."

What a speech is here! Doles, interruptions of men who tell the truth,

organised democratic corruption, waste of public money on whitewash are

familiar to the unhappy British tax-payer. Where is our Demosthenes who

dare appeal to the electorate to sweep the system and its prospering

advocates back into the darkness?

Having captured Olynthus in 348 and razed it to the ground, Philip

attacked Euboea. A further advance was checked by a disgraceful peace

engineered by Philocrates and Aeschines in 346. The embassy which

obtained it was dodged by Philip until he had made the maximum of

conquest; he had excluded the Phocians from its scope, a people of

primary importance because they controlled Thermopylae, but a week after

signing the peace he had destroyed Phocian unity and usurped their place

on the great Council which met at Delphi. This evident attack on the

liberty of southern Greece raised a fever of excitement at Athens. The

war-party clamoured for instant action; strangely enough Demosthenes

advised his city to observe the peace. In contrast with his fiery

audience he speaks with perfect coolness and calm. He reviews

the immediate past, explains the shameful part played by an actor

Neoptolemus who persuaded Athens to make the peace, then realised all

his property and went to live in Macedon; he describes the good advice

he gave them which they did not follow, and bases his claim to speak not

on any cleverness but on his incorruptibility.

"Our true interest reveals itself to me in its real outlines as I

judge the existing situation. But whenever a man throws a bribe

into the opposite scale it drags the reason after it; the corrupt

person will never afterwards have any true or sane judgment about

anything."

In the present case the real point at issue is clear enough. It is a

question of fighting not Philip but the whole body of states who were

represented at the Delphic Council, for they would fly to arms at once

if Athens renounced _the Peace_; against such a combination she could

not survive, just as the Phocians could not cope with the combined

attack of Macedonia, Thessaly and Thebes, natural enemies united for a

brief moment to achieve a common end. After all, a seat on the

Delphic Council was a small matter; only fools would go to war for an

unsubstantial shadow.

Firmly planted in Greece itself, Philip started intriguing in

Peloponnesus, supporting Argos, Megalopolis and Messene against Sparta.

An embassy to these three cities headed by Demosthenes warned them of

the treacherous friendship. Returning to Athens in 344 he delivered

his _Second Philippi_, which contains an account of the speeches of the

recent tour. Philip acted while Athens talked.

"The result is inevitable and perhaps reasonable; each of you

excels in that wherein you are most diligent--he in deeds, you

in words."

Hence comes the intrigue against Sparta. He can dupe stupid people like

the Thebans, or the Peloponnesians; warning therefore is necessary. To

the latter he said:--

"You now stare at Philip offering and promising things; if you

have any sense, pray you may never see him practising his tricks

and evasions. Cities have invented all kinds of protections and

safeguards such as stockades, walls, trenches--all of which are

made by hand and expensive. But men of sense have inherited from

Nature one defence, good and salutary--especially democrats against

despots--namely, mistrust. If you hold fast to this, you will never

come to serious harm. You hanker after liberty, I suppose. Cannot

you see that Philip's very title is the exact negation of it? Every

king or despot is a foe to freedom and an adversary of law. Beware

lest while seeking to be quit of a war you find a master."

He then mentions the silly promises of advantages to come which induced

Athens to make the infamous Peace, and quotes the famous remark whereby

the traitor gang raised a laugh while in the act of selling their

country. "Demosthenes is naturally a sour and peevish fellow, for he

drinks water." Drawing their attention to this origin of all their

trouble, he asks them to remember their names--at the same time

remarking that even if a man deserved to die, punishment should be

suspended if it meant loss and ruin to the State.

The next three years saw various Macedonian aggressions, especially in

Thrace. That country on its eastern extremity formed the northern coast

of the Dardanelles, named the Chersonese, important as safeguarding

the corn supplies which passed through the Straits. It had been in

the possession of Miltiades, was lost in the Peloponnesian war and was

partly recovered by Timotheus in 863. Diopeithes had been sent there

with a body of colonists in 346. Establishing himself in possession, he

took toll of passing traders to safeguard them against pirates and

had collided with the Macedonian troops as they slowly advanced to the

Narrows. Philip sent a protest to Athens; in a lively debate _on the

Chersonese_ early in 341 Demosthenes delivered a great speech.

First of all he shows that Diopeithes is really the one guarantee that

Philip will not attack Attica itself. In Thrace is a force which can do

great damage to Macedonian territory.

"But if it is once disbanded, what shall we do if Philip attacks the

Chersonese? Arraign Diopeithes, of course--but that will not improve

matters. Well then, send reinforcements from here--if the winds allow

us. Well, Philip will not attack--but there is nobody to guarantee

that."

He suggests that Diopeithes should not be cast off but supported. Such

a plan will cost money, but it will be well spent for the sake of future

benefits.

"If some god were to guarantee that if Athens observes strict

neutrality, abandoning all her possessions, Philip would not attack

her, it would be a scandal, unworthy of you and your city's power

and past history to sacrifice the rest of Greece. I would rather die

than suggest such action."

He then turns to the pacifists, pointing out that it is useless to

expect a peace if the enemy is bent on a war of extermination. None

but fools would wait till a foe admits he is actually fighting if his

actions are clearly hostile. The traitors who sell the city should be

beaten to death, for no State can overcome the foe outside till it has

chastised the enemy within. The record of Macedonian duplicity follows;

the hectoring insolence of Philip is easily explained; Athens is the

only place in the world in which freedom of speech exists; so prevalent

is it that even slaves and aliens possess it. Accordingly Philip has

to stop the mouths of other cities by giving them territory for a brief

period, but Athens he can rob of her colonies and be sure of getting

praise from the anti-national bribe-takers. He concludes with a striking

and elevated passage describing the genuine statesman.

"Any man who to secure your real interests opposes your wishes and

never speaks to get applause but deliberately chooses politics as

his profession (a business in which chance exercises greater

influence than human reason), being perfectly ready to answer for

the caprices is a really brave and useful citizen. I have never had

recourse to the popular arts of winning favour; I have never used

low abuse or stooped to humour you or made rich men's money public;

I continue to tell you what is bound to make me unpopular among you

and yet advance your strength if only you will listen-so unenviable

is the counsellor's lot."

A deep and splendid courage in hopelessness is here manifest.

A little later in the same year was delivered the last and greatest of

all the patriotic speeches, the _Third Philippic_. Early in the speech

the whole object of the Macedonian threat is made apparent--the jugular

veins of Athens, her trade-routes.

"Any man who plots and intrigues to secure the means of my capture is

at war with me, even if he has not fired a shot. In the last event,

what are the danger-spots of Athens? The Hellespont, Megara and Euboea,

the Peloponnese. Am I to say then that a man who has fired this train

against Athens is at peace with her?"

Then the plot against all Greek liberty is explained.

"We all recognise the common danger, but we never send embassies to

one another. We are in such a sorry plight, so great a gulf has been

fixed between cities by intrigue that we are incapable of doing what

is our duty and our interest; we cannot combine; we can make no

confederation of mutual friendship and assistance; we stare at the

man as he grows greater; each of us is determined to take advantage

of the time during which another is being ruined, never considering

or planning the salvation of Greece. Every one knows that Philip is

like a recurring plague or a fit of some malevolent disease which

attacks even those who seem to be out of his reach. Remember this;

all the indignities put on Greece by Sparta or ourselves were at least

the work of genuine sons of the land; they may be likened to the wild

oats of some heir to a great estate--if they were the excesses of some

slave or changeling we all would have considered them monstrous and

scandalous. But that is not our attitude to Philip and his diplomacy,

though he is not a Greek or a relation; rather he is not born even of

decent barbarian parents--he is a cursed wretch from Macedonia which

till recently could not supply even a respectable servant."

The bitterness of this is intense in a man who generally refrains from

anything undignified in a public speech.

Authors of Greece · 第 35 / 38 题