Chapter VII · (continued 2)

Now I am no professional perfume-seller, neither have I learned any other trade. I simply till the land which my father gave me. It was solely by this man’s craft that I was entrapped into the sale. Which is more probable on the face of things, Athenogenes, that I was coveting your business (a business of which I had no sort of experience), or that you and your mistress were plotting to get my money? I certainly think the design was on your side. . . .[4]

Further, at the time of the war against Philip he left the city shortly before the battle, and instead of marching out with us to Chaeronea he migrated to Troezen. By so doing he broke the law which enacts that if a man migrates from the city during time of war he shall be liable to impeachment and summary arrest whenever he returns. His action shows that he had made up his mind that the city would escape peril, while he laid ours under sentence of death; and he corroborated this by not marrying his daughters here in Athens, but giving them to husbands in Troezen. . . .[5]

So while he has broken the general covenant which every citizen makes with his state, he lays stress on the private covenant which he made with me, apparently expecting people to believe that a man who is indifferent to justice in his dealings with you would have been careful to observe it in his dealings with me! Why, so universal and impartial was he in his want of principle that, when he had gone to Troezen, and the people of Troezen had conferred their citizenship upon him, he put himself under the directions of Mnesias of Argos, and having been appointed archon by his means, expelled the citizens from their own city. They will prove this to you themselves, since they are living here in exile. You, gentlemen, gave them an asylum when they were expelled from their country, you gave them your citizenship, who shared with them every privilege that you possess. You remembered the service which they had rendered to you more than a hundred and fifty years ago, during the war with Persia, and you recognized the duty of helping in the hour of their misfortune those who had aided you in the hour of your peril. But this scoundrel, this deserter from Athens who had procured admission as a citizen of Troezen, when once his position was thus secured, cared nothing for either the State or the welfare of the citizens, but behaved with the utmost barbarity towards the city which had granted him its hospitality. . . .[6]

To prove the truth of these assertions the clerk shall read to you, first, the law which forbids resident aliens to migrate in time of war; secondly, the evidence of the Troezenians; and finally the ordinance which these same Troezenians passed in your honor, in return for which you gave them asylum here and conferred your citizenship upon them. Read.

[The law, the evidence, and the ordinance are read.]

Now take the deposition of his own relative. . . .

You know of what manner he conspired against me, and how he has been found a traitor against your state; how he despaired of your safety and abandoned the commonweal in the hour of danger; and how he has made homeless many of those to whom he migrated. Will you not then punish this scoundrel, now that you have him in your power? And for myself, gentlemen, I implore you not to refuse me your protection. Reflect that your decision in this case is a matter of life or death for me, while an adverse verdict will inflect no very serious loss upon him. . . . Remember, gentlemen, the oath that you have taken and the laws that have been read in your ears, and give sentence against him in accordance with the justice that you have been sworn to observe.

isaeus

Isaeus, the pupil of Isocrates and the teacher of Demosthenes, was born about 420 b. c., but it is disputed as to whether he was born a Chalcidian or an Athenian. He is famous for his mastery of argumentative oratory, and appears to have studied Lysias attentively, because of the similarity of their styles. Lysias, however, used closely the divisions of a speech, such as introduction, argument, and epilogue, whereas Isaeus avoided formal arrangement of his matter and depended on his argumentative skill for convincing his hearers. He died about the year 370 b. c. Eleven of his speeches, dealing mainly with the law of inheritance, have come down to us.

Menexenus and Others Against Dicaeogenes and Leochares. [Dicaeogenes, whose estate was in dispute, had four sisters, all of whom were married and had issue. When he died without children, his uncle, Proxenus, produced a will by which the deceased appeared to have left a third part of his estate to his cousin, Dicaeogenes. This cousin, not content with a share, insisted that he had a right to the whole, and, having set up another will in his own favor, took possession of the remaining two-thirds of the property. This belonged to the sisters of the deceased, who proved the second will to be a forgery; upon this Dicaeogenes undertook to restore the two-thirds without diminution, and one Leochares was his surety; but on their refusal to perform their promise, the nephews of the elder Dicaeogenes began a suit against them for the performance of their agreement.]

We had imagined, judges, that all agreements made in court concerning this dispute would have been specifically performed; for when Dicaeogenes disclaimed the remaining two-thirds of this estate, and was bound, together with his surety, to restore them without any controversy, on the faith of this assurance we gave a release of our demands; but now, since he refuses to perform his engagement, we bring our complaint, conformably to the oath which we have taken, against both him and his surety, Leochares.

[The Oath]

That we swore truly, both Cephisodotus, who stands near me, perfectly knows, and the evidence, which we shall adduce, will clearly demonstrate. Read the depositions.

[Evidence]

You have heard the testimony of these witnesses, and I am persuaded that even Leochares himself will not venture to assert that they are perjured; but he will have recourse perhaps to this defense, that Dicaeogenes has fully performed his agreement, and that his own office of surety is completely satisfied. If he allege this, he will speak untruly and will easily be confuted; for the clerk shall read to you a schedule of all the effects which Dicaeogenes, the son of Menexenus, left behind him, together with an inventory of those which the defendant unjustly took; and if he affirms that our uncle neither had them in his lifetime nor left them to us at his death, let him prove his assertion; or if he insists that the goods were indeed ours, but that we had them returned to us, let him call a single witness to that fact; as we have produced evidence on our part that Dicaeogenes promised to give us back the two-thirds of what the son of Menexenus possessed, and that Leochares undertook to see him perform his promise. This is the ground of our action, and this we have sworn to be true. Let the oath be read.

[The Oath]

Now, judges, if the defendants intended only to clear themselves of this charge, what has already been said would be sufficient to ensure my success; but, since they are prepared to enter once more into the merits of the question concerning the inheritance, I am desirous to inform you on our side of all the transactions in our family; that, being apprised of the truth, and not deluded by their artifices, you may give a sentence agreeable to reason and justice.

Menexenus our grandfather had one son named Dicaeogenes, and four daughters, of whom Polyaratus my father married one; another was taken by Democles of Phrearrhi; a third by Cephisophon of Paeania; and the fourth was espoused by Theopompus the father of Cephisodotus. Our uncle Dicaeogenes, having sailed to Cnidos in the Parhalian galley, was slain in a sea fight; and, as he left no children, Proxenus the defendant’s father brought a will to our parents, in which his son was adopted by the deceased and appointed heir to a third part of his fortune; this part our parents, unable at that time to contest the validity of the will permitted him to take; and each of the daughters of Menexenus, as we shall prove by the testimony of persons then present, had a decree for her share of the residue.

When they had thus divided the inheritance and had bound themselves by oath to acquiesce in the division, each person possessed his allotment for twelve years; in which time, though the courts were frequently open for the administration of justice, not one of these men thought of alleging any unfairness in the transaction; until, when the state was afflicted with troubles and seditions, this Dicaeogenes was persuaded by Melas the Egyptian, to whom he used to submit on other occasions, to demand from us all our uncle’s fortune and to assert that he was appointed heir to the whole.

When he began his litigation we thought he was deprived of his senses; never imagining that the same man, who at one time claimed to be heir to a third part, and at another time an hear to the whole, could gain any credit before this tribunal; but when we came into court, although we urged more arguments than our adversary and spoke with justice on our side, yet we lost our cause; not through any fault of the jury, but through the villainy of Melas and his associates, who, taking advantage of the public disorders, assumed a power of seizing possessions to which they had no right, by swearing falsely for each other. By such men, therefore, were the jury deceived; and we, overcome by this abominable iniquity, were stripped of our effects; for my father died not long after the trial and before he could prosecute, as he intended, the perjured witnesses of his antagonist.

On the very day when Dicaeogenes had thus infamously prevailed against us, he ejected the daughter of Cephisophon, the niece of him who left the estate, from the portion allotted to her; took from the wife of Democles what her brother had given her as co-heiress; and deprived both the mother of Cephisodotus and the unfortunate youth himself of their whole fortune. Of all these he was at the same time guardian and spoiler, next of kin, and cruelest enemy; nor did the relation which he bore them excite in the least degree his compassion; but the unhappy orphans, deserted and indigent, became destitute even of daily necessities.

Such was the guardianship of Dicaeogenes their nearest kinsman! who gave to their avowed foes what their father Theopompus had left them, illegally possesses himself of the property which they had from their maternal uncle and their grandfather; and (what was the most open act of cruelty) having purchased the house of their father and demolished it, he dug up the ground on which it stood, and made that handsome garden for his own house in the city.

Still further; although he receives an annual rent of eighty minas from the estate of our uncle, yet such are his insolence and profligacy that he sent my cousin, Cephisodotus, to Corinth as a service attendant on his brother Harmodius; and adds to his other injuries this cruel reproach, that he wears ragged clothes and coarse buskins; but is not this unjust, since it was his own violence which reduced the boy to poverty?

On this point enough has been said, I now return to the narration from which I have thus digressed. Menexenus then, the son of Cephisophon, and cousin both to this young man and to me, having a claim to an equal portion of the inheritance, began a prosecution against those who had perjured themselves in the former cause, and convicted Lycon, whom he had first brought to justice, of having falsely sworn that our uncle appointed this Dicaeogenes heir to his whole estate; when, therefore, this pretended heir was disappointed in his hopes of deluding you, he persuaded Menexenus, who was acting both for our interest and his own, to make a compromise, which, though I blush to tell it, his baseness compels me to disclose.

What was their agreement?

That Menexenus should receive a competent share of the effects on condition of his betraying us, and releasing the other false witnesses, whom he had not yet convicted; then, injured by our enemies, and by our friends, we remained with silent indignation; but you shall hear the whole transaction from the mouths of witnesses.

[Evidence]

Nor did Menexenus lose the reward of his perfidy; for, when he had dismissed the persons accused, and given up our cause, we could not recover the promised bribe from his seducer whose deceit he so highly resented, that he came over again to our side.

We, therefore, justly thinking that Dicaeogenes had no right to any part of the inheritance, since his principal witness had been actually convicted of perjury, claimed the whole estate as next of kin to the deceased; nor will it be difficult to prove the justice of our claim; for, since two wills have been produced, one of an ancient date, and the other more recent; since by the first, which Proxenus brought with him, our uncle made the defendant heir to a third part of his fortune, which will Dicaeogenes himself prevailed upon the jury to set aside; and since the second, under which he claims the whole has been proved invalid by the conviction of the perjured witnesses, who swore to its validity; since, I say, both will have been shown to be forged, and no other testament existed, it was impossible for any man to claim the property as heir by appointment, but the sisters of the deceased, whose daughters we married, were entitled to it as heirs by birth.

These reasons induced us to sue for the whole as next of kin, and each of us claimed a share; but when we were on the point of taking the usual oaths on both sides, this Leochares put in a protestation that the inheritance was not controvertible; to this protestation we took exceptions, and having begun to prosecute Leochares for perjury, we discontinued the former case. After we had appeared in court, and urged the same arguments on which we have now insisted, and after Leochares had been very loquacious in making his defense, the judges were of opinion that he was perjured, and as soon as this appeared by the number of pellets, which were taken out of the urns, it is needless to inform you what entreaties he used both to the court and to us, or what an advantage we might then have taken; but attend to the argument which we have made, and upon our consenting that the Archon should mix the pellets together without counting them, Dicaeogenes undertook to surrender two-thirds of the inheritance, and to resign them without any dispute to the sisters of the deceased, and for the full performance of this undertaking, Leochares was his surety, together with Mnesiptolemus the Plotian; all which my witnesses will prove.

[Evidence]

Although we had been thus injured by Leochares, and had it in our power, after he was convicted of perjury, to mark him with infamy, yet we consented that judgment should not be given, and were willing to drop the prosecution upon condition of recovering our inheritance; but after all this mildness and forbearance we were deceived, judges, by these faithless men; for neither has Dicaeogenes restored to us the two-thirds of his estate, conformably to his agreement in court; nor will Leochares confess that he was bound for the performance of that agreement. Now if these promises had not been made before five hundred jurymen and a crowd of hearers, one cannot tell how far this denial might have availed him; but, to show how falsely they speak, I will call some witnesses who were present both when Dicaeogenes disclaimed two-thirds of the succession and undertook to restore them undisputed to the sisters of our uncle, and when Leochares engaged that he should punctually perform what he had undertaken; to confirm his evidence, judges, we entreat you, if any of you were then in court, to recollect what passed, and, if our allegations are true, to give us the benefit of your testimony, for, if Dicaeogenes speaks the truth, what advantage did we reap from gaining the cause, or what inconvenience did he sustain by losing it?

If, as he asserts, he only disclaimed the two-thirds without agreeing to restore them unencumbered, what has he lost by relinquishing his present claim to an estate the value of which he has received? For he was not in possession of the two third parts, even before we succeeded in our suit, but had either sold or mortgaged them; it was his duty, however, to return the money to the purchasers and to give us back our share of the land; since it was with a view to this that we, not relying singly upon his own engagement, instead upon his finding a surety. Yet, except two small houses without the walls of the city, and about sixty acres of land in the plain, we have received no part of our inheritance; nor did we care to eject the purchasers of the rest lest we should involve ourselves in litigation; for when, by the advice of Dicaeogenes, and on his promise not to oppose our title, we turned Micio out of a bath which he had purchased, he brought an action against us and recovered forty minas.

This loss, judges, we incurred through the perfidy of Dicaeogenes; for we, not imagining that he would recede from an agreement so solemnly made, assured the court that we would suffer any evil if Dicaeogenes should warrant the bath to Micio; not that we depended on his own word, but we could not conceive that he would betray the sureties who had undertaken for him; yet this very man, who disavowed all pretensions to these two-thirds, and even now admits his disavowal, had the baseness, when he was vouched by Micio, to acknowledge his warranty; while I, unhappy man, who had not received a particle of my share, was condemned to pay forty minas for having ousted a fair purchaser and left the court oppressed by the insults of this Dicaeogenes. To prove the transaction I shall call my witnesses.

[Evidence]

Thus have we been injured, judges, by this man; whilst Leochares, who was bound for him and has been the cause of all our misfortunes, is confident enough to deny what has been proved against him; because his undertaking was not entered in the register of the court; now, judges, as we were then in great haste, we had time to enter part only of what had been agreed on, and took care to provide faithful witnesses of all the rest; but these men have a convenient subterfuge: what is advantageous to them they allow to be valid although it be not written, but deny the validity of what may be prejudicial to their interests unless it be in writing; nor am I surprised that they refuse to perform their verbal promises since they will not act conformably to their written agreements.

That we speak truly, an undeniable proof shall be produced: Dicaeogenes gave my sister in marriage with a portion of forty minas to Protarchides of Potamos; but, instead of paying her fortune in money he gave her husband a house which belonged to him in Ceramicus; now she had the same right with my mother to a share of the estate; when Dicaeogenes, therefore, had resigned to the women two-thirds of the inheritance, Leochares told Protarchides in what manner he had become a surety, and promised in writing to give him his wife’s allotment if he would surrender to him the house which he had taken instead of the portion; Protarchides, whose evidence you shall now hear, consented; but Leochares took possession of his house and never gave him any part of the allotment.

[Evidence]

As to the repairs of the bath and the expenses of building, Dicaeogenes has already said, and will probably say again, that we have not reimbursed him, according to our engagement, for the sum which he expended on that account, for which reason he cannot satisfy his creditors nor give us the shares to which we are entitled. To answer this, I must inform you that, when we compelled him in open court to disclaim this part of the inheritance, we permitted him, by the advice of the jury, to retain the products of the estate, which he had enjoyed for so long, by way of compensation for his expense in repairs and for his public charges; and some time after, not by compulsion, but of our own free will, we gave him a house in the city, which we separated from our own estate and added to this third part.

This he had as an additional recompense for the materials which he had bought for his building; and he sold the house to Philonicus for fifty minas; nor did we make him this present as a reward of his probity, but as a proof that our own relatives, how dishonest soever, are not undervalued by us for the sake of lucre; and even before, when it was in our power to take ample revenge of him by depriving him of all his possession, we could not act with the rigor of justice, but were contented with obtaining a decree for part of our own property; whilst he, when he had procured an unjust advantage over us, plundered us with all possible violence, and now strives to ruin us, as if we were not his kinsmen, but his inveterate foes.

We will now produce a striking instance of our candor and of his knavery. When, in the month of December, judges, the prosecution against Leochares was carried on with firmness, both he and Dicaeogenes entreated me to postpone the trial and refer all matters in dispute to arbitration; to which proposal, as if we had sustained only a slight injury, we consented; and four arbitrators were chosen, two by us, and as many by them; we then swore, in their presence, that we would abide by their award; and they told us that they would settle our controversy, if possible, without being sworn; but that, if they found it impossible to agree, they would severally declare upon oath what they thought the merits of the case. After they had interrogated us for a long time, and inquired minutely into the whole transaction, Diotamus and Melanopus the two arbitrators, whom we had brought, expressed their readiness to make their award, either upon oath or otherwise, according to their opinion of the truth from the testimony of both parties; but the other two, whom Leochares had chosen, refused to join in any award at all; though one of them, Diopithes, was a kinsman of Leochares, and an enemy to me on account of some former disputes, and his companion, Demaratus, was a brother of that Mnesiptolemus whom I mentioned before as one of the sureties for Dicaeogenes; these two decided against giving any opinion, although they had obliged us to swear that we would submit to their decision.

[Evidence]

It is abominable, then, that Leochares should request you to pronounce a sentence in his favor which his own relation, Diopithes, refused to pronounce; and how can you, judges, with propriety decree for this man, when even his friends have virtually decreed against him? For all these reasons I entreat you, unless you think my request inconsistent with justice, to decide this case against Leochares.

As for Dicaeogenes, he deserves neither your compassion as an indigent and unfortunate man, nor your indulgence as a benefactor in any degree to the state; I shall convince you, judges, that neither of these characters belongs to him; shall prove him to be both a wealthy and a profligate citizen, and shall produce instances of his base conduct towards his friends, his kinsmen, and the public. First, though he took from us an estate from which he annually received eighty minas, and although he enjoyed the profits of it for ten years, yet he is neither in possession of the money nor will declare in what manner he has employed it. It is also worthy of your consideration, that, when he presided over the games of his tribe at the feast of Bacchus he obtained only the fourth prize, and was the last of all in the theatrical exhibitions and the Pyrrhic dances: these were the only offices that he has served, and these, too, by compulsion; and see how liberally he behaved with so large an income! Let me add that in a time of the greatest public calamity, when so many citizens furnished vessels of war, he would not equip a single galley at his own expense, nor even joined with another; whilst others, whose entire fortune was not equal to his yearly rents, bore that expensive office with alacrity; he ought to have remembered that it was not his father who gave him his estate, but you, judges, who established it by your decree; so that, even if he had not been a citizen, gratitude should have prompted him to consult the welfare of the city.

Again, when contributions were continually brought by all who loved their country, to support the war and provide for the safety of the state, nothing came from Dicaeogenes; when Lechaeum indeed was taken, and when he was pressed by others to contribute, he promised publicly that he would give three minas, a sum less than that which Cleonymus the Cretan voluntarily offered; yet even this promise he never performed; but his name was hung up on the statues of the Eponymi with an inscription asserting, to his eternal dishonor, that he had not paid the contribution, which he promised in public, for his country’s service. Who can now wonder, judges, that he deceived me, a private individual, when he so notoriously deluded you all in your common assembly? Of this transaction you shall now hear the proof.

[Evidence]

Such and so splendid have been the services which Dicaeogenes, possessed of so large a fortune, has performed for the city! You perceive, too, in what manner he conducts himself towards his relatives, some of whom he has deprived, as far as he was able, of their property; others he has basely neglected, and forced, through the want of mere necessaries, to enter into the service of some foreign power. All Athens saw his mother sitting in the temple of Illithyia, and heard her accuse him of a crime which I blush to relate, but which he blushed not to commit. As to his friends, he has now incurred the violent hatred of Melas the Egyptian, who had been fond of him from his early youth, by refusing to pay him a sum of money which he had borrowed; his other companions he had either defrauded of sums which they lent him, or has failed to perform his promise of giving them part of his plunder if he succeeded in his cause.

Yet our ancestors, judges, who first acquired this estate, and left it to their descendants, conducted all the public games, contributed liberally toward the expense of the war, and continually had the command of galleys, which they equipped: of these noble acts the presents with which they were able, from what remained of their fortune after their necessary charges, to decorate the temples, are no less undeniable proofs, than they are lasting monuments of their virtue; for they dedicated to Bacchus the tripods which they won by their magnificence in their games; they gave new ornaments to the temple of the Pythian Apollo, and adorned the shrine of the goddess in the citadel, where they offered the first fruits of their estate, with a great number, if we consider that they were only private men, of statues both in brass and stone. They died fighting resolutely in defense of their country; for Dicaeogenes, the father of my grandfather, Menexenus, fell at the head of the Olysian legion in Spartolus; and his son, my uncle, lost his life at Cnidos, where he commanded the Parhalian galley.

His estate, O Dicaeogenes, thou hast unjustly seized and shamefully wasted, and, having converted it into money, hast the assurance to complain of poverty. How hast thou spent that money? Not for the use of the state or of your friends; since it is apparent that no part of it has been employed for those purposes; not in breeding fine horses, for thou never wast in possession of a horse worth more than three minas; not in chariots, for, with so many farms and so great a fortune, that never hadst a single carriage even drawn by mules; nor hast thou redeemed any citizen from captivity; nor hast thou conveyed to the citadel those statues which Menexenus had order to be made for the price of three talents, but was prevented by his death from consecrating in the temple; and, through thy avarice, they lie to this day in the shop of the statuary; thus hast thou presumed to claim an estate to which thou hast no color of right, and hast not restored to the gods the statues, which were truly their own. On what ground, Dicaeogenes, canst thou ask the jury to give a sentence in thy favor? Is it because thou hast frequently served the public offices; expended large sums of money to make the city more respectable, and greatly benefited the State by contributing bountifully towards supporting the war? Nothing of this sort can be alleged with truth. Is it because thou art a valiant soldier? But thou never once could be persuaded to serve in so violent and so formidable a war, in which even the Olynthians and the islanders lose their lives with eagerness, since they fight for this country; while thou, who art a citizen, wouldst never take arms for the city.

Perhaps the dignity of thy ancestors, who slew the tyrant, emboldens thee to triumph over us; as for them, indeed, I honor and applaud them, but cannot think that a spark of their virtue animates thy bosom; for thou hast preferred the plunder of our inheritance to the glory of being their descendant, and wouldst rather be called the son of Dicaeogenes than of Harmodius; not regarding the right of being entertained in the Prytaneum, nor setting any value on the precedence and immunities which the posterity of those heroes enjoy; yet it was not for noble birth that Harmonius and Aristogiton were so transcendently honored, but for their valor and probity; of which thou, Dicaeogenes, hast not the smallest share.

lycurgus

Lycurgus, a pupil both of Plato and Isocrates, was born at Athens about the year 396 b. c., and died in 323 b. c. During the great struggle with Philip of Macedon, he allied himself with Demosthenes and became one of the leaders of the national party. He was a man of refined and artistic tastes, a patriot, and an orator. Only the conclusion of his speech is here given.

Oration Against Leocrates. Gentlemen, you have heard the witnesses. It may well be that what I now declare will rouse your indignation and your scorn of this Leocrates. Not content to abscond alone with his wretched self and his money, he must needs drag with him the ancestral faith, today become your law because your ancestors kept it, the establishment of the fathers and the heritage of him their child, drag this to Megara, filch it from the land. He hallowed not that sacred name of old, would tear it from its home, make it forsake with him the temples and the country once its own, as if in the land of the stranger it could rise again, for him. Athena, with no Athens there! in Megara! their land and their laws to be here! Why did your fathers give to the land her name? Because her land was here. In the name of Athena did they put their trust; she abandons not her own. Leocrates, recreant to law and tradition and religion, took from us all, as far as in him lay, the help that is ours from on high. And not content with all these grievous wrongs, he took the capital he had withdrawn here and with it made shipments of grain from Cleopatra in Epirus into Leucas and from there into Corinth; this in violation of your law which lays so severe a penalty on any man of Athens who shall ship grain to any port but ours. Here then is your man; traitor in war; lawbreaker in business; false to the faith and the land and the law. Here he is in your jurisdiction: shall not his doom be death? shall he not serve warning to others? If not, then ye must be some listless men, whose wrath no crime can rouse.

And now in what strains did Homer voice this theme? To your fathers he was such a noble poet that they passed a law that at every pan-Athenian festival, as the five years came round, his epics alone should be delivered; thus bearing witness to the world of Greece that the greatest of works were the works for them. A salutary measure. Brevity is the nature of the law. It may not instruct; it must simply command. To the poets it must refer the life of man, to portray the human spirit in its loftiest achievement, and with the resistless argument of art our souls are swayed. It is Hector who speaks rousing the Trojans in their country’s name:

When ye have reached the ships, fight onward, ceaselessly striving: What though the stroke of fate shall call some man to his glory? Where is the sting of death when a hero falls for his country? Wife and child and home are safe in the hour that the Argives Take to the ships once more and sail for the land of their fathers.

With strains like these, men of Athens, ringing in the ears of your sires, they could emulate the deeds of old; rising to such heights of valor that not for their own native State alone, but for all Hellas as a common fatherland, they stood ready to offer up their lives. There on Marathon they went into line in the face of the barbarians, bore down all Asia in arms, the stake their lives alone, winning security for Greece at large; not puffed up with the pride of renown, but glad their work was worthy of its fame; of Greece the champions, masters of the heathen worlds; letting their deeds proclaim aloud with glory. Such was the strenuous life they led in Athens in the great days of old that once when the Lacedaemonians, valiant of men, were at war with the Messinians, the god vouchsafed them a response that bade them take a leader from our people, and then they should conquer their enemies. If then divine judgment declared in favor of our leadership, even for the children of Hercules, lords for all time in Sparta, are we not justified in our faith that once Athenian valor was peerless? Who that is Greek does not know that they took one Tyrtaeus for their general? And with him they overthrew their enemies. And when the immediate peril was past, they (with an admirable wisdom) turned the episode to the advantage of their youth for all time. For when Tyrtaeus left them, his elegiacs were still theirs. While other poets have had no vogue among them, for him their enthusiasm has been so great that they passed a law that whenever a campaign was to open, all the man should be called to the tent of the king to hear the strains of Tyrtaeus. Nothing else, they thought, could make their men so ready to lay down their lives for their country. And now the day is come when we ourselves may need the sound of those elegiacs which could make their way to the souls of Spartans:

Blest is the brave: how glorious is his prize, When at his country’s call he dares and dies. And sad the sight when, envious of the dead, The man without a country begs his bread. His poor old parents feebly toil along, And little children who have done no wrong. Spurned by the glance he meets at every turn, He learns how hot the beggar’s brand can burn. His name is shame: the human form divine Shows in its fall the soul’s dishonored shrine. Deeds in the dust of ages swiftly root, And children’s children reap the bitter fruit. Strike for our country, comrades: on, ye brave! Where is the man that dreads a patriot grave? And ye, my younger brethren, side by side, Shoulder to shoulder stand, whate’er betide. The surging thrill ye feel before your foe Swept o’er your father’s heart-strings long ago. To those whose days are longer in the land Lend in the pride of youth the helping hand. For shame to see an old man fall in front When young men leave him there to bear the brunt: Low in the dust the hoary hair is trailed; And last is quenched a soul that never quailed, Youth in its bloom should pluck the glowing bough Whose leaves in glory wreathe a hero’s brow. Welcome to man, and fair in woman’s eye, The manly form that living dares to die. Fate hangs apoise, with gloom and triumph fraught: Up, hearts! and in the balance count we our lives as naught.

Noble sentiments, gentlemen, that sway the soul of him that hath ears to hear. The Spartans could hear them, and receive such an impulse into manhood that they engaged with us in a struggle for the hegemony. It was nature’s rivalry; for the noblest achievements have been wrought on either side. Our ancestors had overthrown the barbarian who had set the first hostile foot upon Attic soil; in them was made manifest a manhood that no money could corrupt, a valor no host countervail. In Thermopylae the Lacedaemonians made their stand; and though the fate they met was not like ours, yet there the ideals of human devotion became reality.

And thus on the borne of life we can see the memorials of the valor of our race graven with the chisel of truth unto all Greek blood:

For Theirs:

Go stranger, tell the Spartans where we lie, True to the land that taught her sons to die.

For Yours:

On Marathon when Athens fought alone, Down to the dust the golden East was thrown.

These great memories, Athenians, are the glory of the men who bequeathed them and of Athens the undying renown. Not in this wise was Leocrates wrought. The fair fame of the city, flower of the ages, deliberately hath he defiled. If then he meet death at your hands, all Greece will feel the abhorrence in which you hold such acts. If not, then are the fathers of their ancient fame bereft by the same fell stroke that wounds your brothers in citizenship. They who revere not the men of old will follow the footsteps of this man, quick to descry the path that shall lead them to favor with our enemies, quick to perceive that shamelessness, treachery, cowardice, need only a verdict from you to prove their native worth.

One word more and I am done. To your sovereign chastisement I commit the man who stands for Athenian annihilation. On your own honor and in the presence of the gods you are to give Leocrates his due. On the head of the criminal lies the crime; but in a miscarriage of justice the jurors delinquent become participant of guilt. Gentlemen, ye cast the secret ballot now; but be not deceived: not one man among you can deposit a vote that the eye of heaven does not see. In my opinion, gentlemen, your verdict today reaches all the greatest and most fearful crimes at once: we behold them in the person of Leocrates; treason, for he abandoned the city to subjugation by the enemy; apostasy, for he played a coward’s part in freedom’s cause; sacrilege for the groves might be felled, the temples razed, as far as he was concerned; abomination, for the memorials of our fathers might be swept away and the hallowed observance abolished; desertion, for the nidering did not report for duty in the line. Where then is the man who will vote to clear him? Who is he that will show his sympathy with crime that shows malice aforethought? Is there a man so bereft of sense that he will set Leocrates free and so place his own security at the mercy of men who would abandon him? that out of pity for Leocrates he will take no pity on himself, when his choice may mean death at the hands of the foe? that by extending clemency to a traitor he will lay himself open to the retribution of heaven?

In support of our country, religion and laws I have pleaded this case, in righteousness and in fairness, indulging in no irrelevant abuse of the man and making no charges extraneous to the case. You must all be convinced that a vote for the acquittal of Leocrates is a vote for the conviction of the country; for in the life of nations subjugation is the death. Here stand the two urns; one for your undoing, one for your redemption: vote there for the disruption of the country, vote here for her security and prosperity. Think, men of Athens: the land and the trees are pleading, the harbors, the walls are entreating, the temples and shrines are in prayer. Save them. Make of Leocrates an example. One final declaration of my confidence: this pity that fills your hearts for the tears you look upon can never avail to pervert your loyalty to the law of the land, your devotion to the people of Athens.

aeschines

Aeschines, best known as an opponent of Demosthenes, was, in fact, a gallant solider, a man of much ability, and a really great orator. He was born in Attica, 389 b. c., five years before the birth of his famous rival, and died 314 b. c. His eloquence was of a high order, but his renown was tarnished by his defeat of Demosthenes in the contest on the proposition of Ctesiphon that Demosthenes should be awarded a golden crown for his patriotic services to the state. The speech delivered by Aeschines on that occasion was in many respects able, but he committed the grievous error of abusing his adversary and thus exposing his animosity.

Against Crowning Demosthenes. You see, Athenians, what preparations are on foot, what forces are arrayed, what appeals to the Assembly are being made by certain persons to prevent the proper and ordinary course of justice from having its effect in the city. For myself I came before you, first, with a firm belief in the immortal gods, next, with an abiding confidence in the laws and in you, convinced that intrigues will not more avail with you than these laws and the cause of justice.

I could indeed have fain desired that both in the Council of Five Hundred and in the Assembly the presiding officers had compelled conformity to established rules of debate, and that the laws had been enforced concerning the orderly deportment of public speakers which were laid down by Solon. It should thus have been permitted to the oldest citizens, as the laws prescribe, to ascend the platform decorously, and without tumult or annoyance, according to their experience, express their opinions upon what they regarded most advantageous to the city. Afterwards, each citizen in order of seniority should have in turn presented his independent views upon every question.

In this way it seems to me would the affairs of the city have been best conducted, and prosecutions have been reduced within the smallest compass. Since, however, the old recognized rules of procedure have been swept away, and certain men recklessly introduce illegal propositions, and certain others put them to the vote—men who have managed to secure the presidency, not by just and proper means, but taking possession of it by contrivance—it is brought to pass that if any other senator shall succeed in reaching the first place in due course of law and shall then attempt to obtain the result of your votes properly, such an one is denounced and impeached by the men who regard our government as no longer a common inheritance but as their own peculiar property. And when in this way, by reducing private citizens to servitude and by securing absolute power themselves, they have overthrown established legal judgments and have passed decrees according to the dictates of their passions, there shall be heard no longer that most beautiful and proper invitation of the herald, “Who desires to express his opinion, of citizens of fifty years of age and upwards, and afterwards, of all other in rotation?”

Thus neither the laws, nor the senators, nor the presidents, nor the presiding tribe itself a tenth part of the city, can control the indecent conduct of these orators.

Such being the case, and such the position in which the city is placed—and you must be convinced that this is so,—one part at least of the constitution, if I know anything of the matter, still survives—the right of prosecution for proposing unconstitutional measures. Should you destroy this right, or surrender it to those who will destroy it, I prophesy that you will have unconsciously given away to a few men almost our entire form of government. For you must surely know, Athenians, that but three forms of government exist, monarchy, oligarchy, and democracy: the two former are administered according to the feeling and opinions of those who are at the head of affairs, but republics repose upon the authority of law. Let no one of you, therefore, forget, but on the contrary let him lay it carefully to heart, that when he enters this tribunal for the trial of such an issue, on that day he is called upon to cast his vote upon his own right of free speech. Therefore was it that our old lawgivers placed in the forefront of the juror’s oath these words, “I will render a verdict according to law,” knowing well that when the laws were jealously observed by the city free institutions were safe.

Wherefore is it that, bearing these things in mind, you should hold in abhorrence all who commit unconstitutional acts, and that you should look upon no infraction of the constitution as small or unimportant, but treat all as of the gravest nature. Nor should you suffer any man to deprive you of this most vital right—neither the persuasions of the generals who for a long time past have been at work with certain of our orators to overthrow the constitution, nor the solicitations of strangers when those whose administration has been illegal have brought up hither to screen them from justice—but as each one of you would blush to quit the ranks in which he was stationed on the day of battle, so you should now blush at the thought of abandoning the post in which you are placed by the laws which are today the guardians of our institutions.

You must further bear in mind that your fellow citizens have now entrusted to your keeping the city itself in thus confiding the constitution to your charge; not only those of them who are here present intent upon the course of this trial, but those also who are necessarily absent upon their private business. If, therefore, holding in due regard these your fellow citizens, and remembering the oaths you have sworn and the laws you are living under, you should convict Ctesiphon for having introduced an unconstitutional bill false in terms and injurious to the city, overturn, Athenians, such unconstitutional enactments, confirm our free institutions, and punish the men who have been advising against the law and against the interests both of the State and of yourselves. If in this frame of mind you listen to the words which are about to be spoken, I well know that your verdict will be in accordance with justice and right, and that it will redound to the credit of yourselves and of the whole community.

I have thus far spoken about the general nature of this prosecution, and, I hope, with sufficient fairness. I now desire to speak briefly about the laws which have been passed in regard to persons who are accountable to the state, against which the decree of Ctesiphon offends.

In former times it happened that men who had exercised the highest employment and had been entrusted with the management of the public revenues, although guilty therein of the grossest corruption, would, by conniving with certain orators both in the Senate and the General Assembly, anticipate all examination into their accounts by means of votes of condemnation and proclamations of thanks in their behalf. Not only were citizens who attempted to bring them to justice for the state of their accounts in this way much perplexed, but the jurors themselves who were to try the cause were reduced to a grave dilemma. And many of these officials, although clearly proved to have embezzled public moneys in the most flagrant way, were yet permitted to leave the judgment-seat unpunished. And not unreasonably. For the jurors were ashamed, it seems to me, that it should appear the same man in the same city, and perchance in the very same year, who had been proclaimed in the Assemblies as worthy of being honored with a golden crown by the people for his virtue and uprightness, should a short time afterwards be brought to trial, and go forth from our courts of justice convicted of fraud in his accounts. So that the jurors were compelled, as it were, to give their verdict not so much upon the crime which was proven, as in regard to the honor of the city itself. And hence it was that one of our lawgivers provided for this very emergency by propounding a law—and a most admirable one it was—by which the coronation of all persons liable to account was distinctly forbidden. Notwithstanding the passage of this law, evasions of it more efficacious than the law itself have been invented, in ignorance of which, unless they be explained to you, you would be entirely deceived. This decree for the crowning of officials while they were still liable to account were introduced contrary to law by men not ill disposed by nature—if any one can be well-disposed who thus acts illegally—and by way of a slave to propriety they added to the propositions the words, “after they shall have rendered a correct account of their administration.” The city, however, was injured in the same way by this evasion, since the accounting was equally forestalled by the panegyrics and votes of crowns; and the propounder of the decree, by thus qualifying it, admitted to his discredit that at the time of its proposal he was conscious of an intended infraction of the law. But this fellow Ctesiphon, men of Athens, at one bound clears both law and qualification; for by his decree he asks that Demosthenes, while actually in office, before he has furnished any explanations or delivered in any accounts, shall be crowned by the people! . . .

You have just heard, Athenians, that the law directs the proclamation of one who is crowned by the people to be made in the Pnyx at an Assembly of the people, and nowhere else. Ctesiphon, however, not only transgresses the law by directing it to be done in the theatre, thus changing the place from that where the Athenians hold their Assembly, but he commands it to take place, not before the people alone, but in presence of the assembled Greeks, that they may see along with us what manner of man it is whom we then honor. . . .

Since, then, it is directed that those honored with a crown by the Senate shall be proclaimed in the Senate Chamber, and those crowned by the people in the Assembly, and it is interdicted to those crowned by the tribes or demes to be so proclaimed in the theatre, that no one by mean solicitations for crowns and proclamations should thereby obtain a spurious honor, and it is moreover forbidden by the law that proclamation shall be made by any one unless by the Senate, the people, the tribes, and the demes; if all these be excepted, what remains but the case of crowns conferred by foreign states? That this is manifestly so, I shall convince you by the laws themselves. . . .

Besides it is enjoined by law that the crown of gold which shall be proclaimed in the theatre in behalf of any one shall be taken from him and consecrated to Athens. Who would dare, however, from this, to accuse the people of Athens of a sordid economy? Never was there a city, never an individual, so destitute of generosity, as in the same moment to proclaim, take away, and consecrate a crown of their own bestowal! This consecration is doubtless directed to be made because the crown has been conferred by strangers, that no man may estimate a foreign honor as of greater value than his country, and may not be tempted in consequence to fail in his devotion to her. The crown conferred by the people and proclaimed in the Assembly is never consecrated, but on the contrary is permitted to be enjoyed, not only by its recipient, but by his descendants, that by preserving this memorial in their family they may never become ill-disposed to their country. And this is the reason why the lawmaker has prohibited the proclamation in the theatre of a crown conferred by strangers unless authorized by a decree of the people; the foreign city which may desire so to honor one of your citizens shall first through an embassy demand it of the people; and thus he who is crowned shall owe higher debt of gratitude to you who have permitted the proclamation than to those who have presented him with the crown itself. . . .

I may here foretell the part that he will play when he sees that you are in earnest in your endeavor to hold him to his true course. Ctesiphon will introduce that arch-impostor, that plunderer of the public, who has cut the constitution into shreds; the man who can weep more easily than others laugh, and from whom perjury flows in ready words!

He can, I doubt not, change his tone, and pass from tears to gross abuse, insult the citizens who are listening outside, and cry out that the partisans of oligarchical power, detested by the hand of truth, are pressing round the prosecutor to support him, while the friends of the constitution are rallying round the accused. And when he dares to speak so, answer thus his seditious menaces: “What, Demosthenes, had the heroes who brought back our fugitive citizens from Phyle been like you, our democratic form of government had ceased to exist! Those illustrious men saved the state exhausted by great civil disorders in pronouncing that wise and admirable sentence ‘oblivion of all offenses.’ But you, more careful of your rounded periods than of the city’s safety, are willing to reopen all her wounds.”

When this perjurer shall seek for credit by taking refuge in his oaths, remind him that to the foresworn man who asks belief in them from those he has deceived so often, of two things one is needful, neither of which exists for Demosthenes; he must either get new gods, or an audience not the same. And to his tears and wordy lamentations, when he shall ask, “Whither shall I fly, Athenians should you cast me out, I have not where to rest,” reply “Where shall the people seek refuge, Demosthenes; what allies, what resources, what reserve have you prepared for us? We all see what you have provided for yourself. When you have left the city, you shall not stop, as you would seem, to dwell in Piraeus, but, quickly thence departing, you shall visit other lands with all the appointments for your journey provided through your corruption from Persian gold or public plunder.”

But why at all these tears, these cries, this voice of lamentation? Is it not Ctesiphon who is accused, and even for him may not the penalty be moderated by you? Thou pleadest not, Demosthenes, either for thy life, thy fortune, or thy honor! Why is he then so disquieted? About crowns of gold and proclamations in the theatre against the laws: the man who, were the people so insensate or so forgetful of the present as to wish to crown him in this time of public distress, should himself step forth and say, “Men of Athens, while I accept the crown, I disapprove the proclamation of the honor at a time like this: it should not be in regard to things for which the state is now mourning and while it is in the depth of grief.” Would not a man whose life was really upright so speak out; only a knave who assumes the garb of virtue would talk as you do?

Let none of you, by Hercules, be apprehensive lest this high-souled citizen, this distinguished warrior, from loss of this reward should on his return home take his life. The man who rates so low your consideration as to make a thousand incisions on that impure and mortgaged head which Ctesiphon proposes against all law to honor with a crown, makes money of his wounds by bringing actions for the effects of his own premeditated blows. Yes, that crown of his so often battered, that perhaps even now it bears upon it the marks of Meidias’ anger, that crown which brings its owner in an income, serves both for revenue and head! . . .

And can it be that he whom you have thought worthy by your decree, of the honor of this crown, is so unknown to the public which has been so largely benefited by him that you must procure assistance to speak in his behalf? Ask of the jurors whether they know Chabrias, Iphicrates and Timotheus, and learn from them why they have honored and erected statues to them? Will they not proclaim with one voice that they rendered honor to Chabrias for his naval victory near Naxos; to Iphicrates for having cut off a Spartan corps; to Timotheus for his expedition to Corcyra; to other heroes for their many glorious achievements? Ask them now why Demosthenes is to be rewarded. Is it for his venality, for his cowardice, for his base desertion of his post in the day of battle? In honoring such an one will you not dishonor yourselves and the gallant men who have laid down their lives for you in the field? whose plaintive remonstrances against the crowing of this man you may almost seem to hear. Strange, passing strange, does it seem, Athenians, that you banish from the limits of the state the stocks and stones the senseless implements which have unwittingly caused death by casualty; that the hand which has inflicted the wound of self-destruction is buried apart from the rest of the body; and that yet you can render honor to this Demosthenes, by whose counsels this last fatal expedition in which your troops were slaughtered and destroyed was planned! The victims of this massacre are thus insulted, in their graves, and the survivors outraged and discouraged when they behold the only reward of patriotic valor to be an unremembered death and a disregarded memory! And last and most important of all consequences, what answer shall you make to your children when they ask you after what examples they shall frame their lives? Is it not, men of Athens—you know it well—is it not the palaestra, the seminary, or the study of the liberal arts alone, which form and educate our youth. Of vastly greater value are the lessons taught by these honors publicly conferred. If a man proclaimed and crowned in the theatre for virtue, courage, and patriotism when his irregular and vicious life belies the honor, the young who witness this are perverted and corrupted! In a profligate and a pander, such as Ctesiphon, sentenced and punished, an instructive lesson is given to the rising generation. Has a citizen voted in opposition to justice and propriety, and does he, on his return to his house, attempt to instruct his son; disobedience surely follows, and the lesson is justly looked upon as importunate and out of place. Pronounce your verdict then, not as simple jurors, but as guardians of the State, whose decision can be justified in the eyes of their absent fellow citizens who shall demand a strict account of it. Know ye not, Athenians, that the people is judged by the ministers whom it honors; will it not be disgraceful, then, that you shall be thought to resemble the baseness of Demosthenes, and not the virtues of your ancestors?

How, then, is this reproach to be avoided? It must be to distrusting the men who usurp the character of upright and patriotic citizens, which their entire conduct gainsays. Good will and zeal for the public interest can be readily assumed in name: oftentimes those who have the smallest pretensions to them by their conduct seize upon and take refuge behind these honorable titles. When you find, then, an orator desirous of being crowned by strangers and of being proclaimed in presence of the Greeks, let him, as the law requires in other cases, prove the claim which he asserts by the evidence of a life free from reproach, and a wise and blameless course. If he be unable to do this, do not confirm to him the honors which he claims, and try at least to preserve the remnant of that public authority which is fast escaping from you. Even now, strange as it should seem, are not the Senate and the people passed over and neglected, and despatches and deputations received by private citizens, not from obscure individuals, but from the most important personages of Europe and Asia? Far from denying that for which under our laws the punishment is death, it is made the subject of open public boast; the correspondence is exhibited and read; and you are invited by some to look upon them as the guardians of the constitution, while others demand to be rewarded as the saviors of the country. The people, meanwhile, as if struck with the decrepitude of age and broken down by their misfortunes, preserve the republic only in name and abandon to others the reality of authority. You thus retire from the Assembly, not as from a public deliberation, but as from an entertainment given at common cost where each guest carries away with him a share of the remnants of the feast. That I speak forth the words of truth and soberness, hearken to which I am about to say.

It distresses me to recur so often to our public calamities, but when a private citizen undertook to sail only to Samos to get out of the way, he was condemned to death on the same day by the Council of Areopagus as a traitor to his country. Another private citizen, unable to bear the fear which oppressed him, and sailing in consequence to Rhodes, was recently denounced for this and escaped punishment by an equal division of the votes. Had a single one been cast on the other side, he would have been either banished or put to death. Compare these instances with the present one. An orator, the cause of all our misfortunes, who abandons his post in time of war and flies from the city, proclaims himself worthy of crowns and proclamations. Will you not drive such a man from your midst as the common scourge of Greece; or will you not rather seize upon and punish him as a piratical braggart who steers his course through our government by dint of phrases?

Consider, moreover, the occasion on which you are called upon to record your verdict. In a few days the Pythian Games will be celebrated, and the assembled Greeks will all be reunited in your city. She has already suffered much disparagement from the policy of Demosthenes: should you now crown him by your votes you will seem to share the same opinion as the men who wish to break the common peace. By adopting the contrary course you will free the state from any such suspicion.

Let your deliberations, then, be in accord with the interests of the city: it is for her, and not a foreign community, you are now to decide. Do not throw away your honors, but confer them with discernment upon high-minded citizens and deserving men. Search with both eyes and ears as to who they are among you who are today standing forth in Demosthenes’ behalf. Are they the companions of his youth who shared with him the manly toils of the chase or the robust exercises of the palaestra? No, by the Olympian Jove, he has passed not his life in hunting the wild boar or in the preparation of his body for fatigue and hardship, but in the exercise of chicane at the cost of the substance of men of wealth!

Examine well his vainglorious boasting when he shall dare to say that by his embassy he withdrew the Byzantines from the cause of Philip; that by his eloquence he detached from him the Acarnanians, and so transported the Thebans as to confirm them upon your side. He believes indeed that you have reached such a point of credulity that you are ready to be persuaded by him of anything he may choose to utter, as if you had here in your midst the goddess Persuasion herself, and not an artful demagogue.

And when, at the close of his harangue, Demosthenes shall invite the partakers of his corruption to press round and defend him, let there be present in your imagination upon the platform from which I am now speaking the venerable forms of the ancient benefactors of the state, arrayed in all their virtue, to oppose these men’s insolence. I see among them the wise Solon, that upright lawgiver who founded our popular government upon the soundest principles of legislation, gently advising you with his native moderation not to place your oaths and the law under the control of this man’s discourse. And Aristides, by whose equity the imposts upon the Greeks were regulated, whose daughters, left in poverty through his incorruptible integrity, were endowed by the state, Aristides is seen complaining of this outrage upon justice, and demanding whether the descendants of the men who fought worthy of death and actually banished from their city and country Arthmius the Zelian, then living in their midst and enjoying the sacred rights of hospitality for merely bringing Persian gold into Greece, are now going to cover themselves with disgrace by honoring with a crown of gold the man who has not simply brought higher the stranger’s money, but is enjoying here the price of his treason. And Themistocles and the men who fell at Marathon and Plataea, think you that they are insensible to what is taking place? Do not their voices cry out from the very tombs in mournful protests against this perverse rendering of honor to one who has dared to proclaim his union with the barbarians against the Greeks?

As for me, O Earth and Sun, O Virtue, and thou, Intelligence, by whose light we are enabled to discern and to separate good from evil, as for me, I have directed my efforts against this wrong. I have lifted up my voice against this injustice! If I have spoken well and loftily against this crime, I have spoken as I should have wished; but if my utterances have been feeble and ill-directed, still they have been according to the measure of my strength. It is for you, men of Athens and jurors, to weigh carefully both what has been spoken and what has been left unsaid, and to render such a decision as shall not only be upright but for the advantage of the State.

demosthenes

Demosthenes, considered the greatest of the Greek orators, and consequently the greatest orator in the history of the world, as oratory flourished nowhere as it did in Greece between 500 and 300 b. c., was born about 383 b. c., and died by poison administered to himself, after being captured by Macedonian troops, 322 b. c.

“He [Demosthenes] seems to have lacked by nature all the physical qualifications of a great orator, and to have acquired them solely by indefatigable self-discipline and training. At about the age of thirty he made his first appearance as a politician; he continued to practice as a logographer (speech-writer) until he was about forty, by which time he had made a fortune sufficient to enable him to devote himself exclusively to political life until he died, at the age of sixty-one.”

Demosthenes studied under Isaeus and profited by the work previously done by the great rhetoricians and orators, Lysias, Isocrates, Antiphon, and others. Demosthenes’ political morality was of the highest, and this was one of the main sources of his great strength.

Speech of Demosthenes in Defense of Ctesiphon, Commonly known as the “Oration on the Crown.” I begin, men of Athens, by praying to every god and goddess that the same good-will, which I have ever cherished toward the commonwealth and all of you, may be requited to me on the present trial. I pray likewise—and this specially concerns yourselves, your religion, and your honor—that the gods may put it in your minds not to take counsel of my opponent touching the manner in which I am to be heard—that would, indeed, be cruel!—but of the laws and of your oath; wherein (besides the other obligations) it is prescribed that you shall hear both sides alike. This means, not only that you must pass no precondemnation, not only that you must extend your good-will equally to both, but also that you must allow the parties to adopt such order and course of defense as they severally choose and prefer.

Many advantages hath Aeschines over me on this trial; and two especially, men of Athens. First, my risk in the contest is not the same. It is assuredly not the same for me to forfeit your regard, as for my adversary not to succeed in his indictment. To me—but I will say nothing untoward at the outset of my address. The prosecution, however, is play to him. My second disadvantage is, that natural disposition of mankind to take pleasure in hearing invective and accusation, and to be annoyed by those who praise themselves. To Aeschines is assigned the part which gives pleasure; that which is (I may fairly say) offensive to all, is left for me. And if, to escape from this, I make no mention of what I have done, I shall appear to be without defense against his charges, without proof of my claims to honor; whereas, if I proceed to give an account of my conduct and measures, I shall be forced to speak frequently of myself. I will endeavor then to do so with all becoming modesty; what I am driven to by the necessity of the case will be fairly chargeable to my opponent, who has instituted such a prosecution.

I think, men of the jury, you will all agree that I, as well as Ctesiphon, am a party to this proceeding, and that it is a matter of no less concern to me. It is painful and grievous to be deprived of anything, especially by the act of one’s enemy; but your good-will and affection are the heaviest loss, precisely as they are the greatest prize to gain.

Such being the matters at stake in this cause, I conjure and implore you all alike, to hear my defense to the charge in that fair manner which the laws prescribe—laws, to which their author, Solon, a man friendly to you and to popular rights, thought that validity should be given, not only by the recording of them, but by the oath of you, the jurors; not that he distrusted you, as it appears to me, but, seeing that the charges and calumnies, wherein the prosecutor is powerful by being the first speaker, cannot be got over by the defendant, unless each of you jurors, observing his religious obligation, shall work with like favor receive the arguments of the last speaker, and lend an equal and impartial ear to both, before he determines upon the whole case.

As I am, it appears, on this day to render an account both of my private life and my public measures, I would fain, as in the outset, call upon the gods to my aid; and in your presence I implore them, first, that the good-will which I have ever cherished toward the commonwealth and all of you may be fully requited to me on the present trial; next, that they may direct you to such a decision upon this indictment as will conduce to your common honor, and to the good conscience of each individual.

Had Aeschines confined his charge to the subject of the prosecution, I, too, would have proceeded at once to my justification of the decree. But since he has wasted now fewer words in the discussion of other matters, in most of them calumniating me, I deem it both necessary and just, men of Athens, to begin by shortly adverting to these points, that none of you may be induced by extraneous arguments to shut your ears against my defense of the indictment.

To all his scandalous abuse of my private life, observe my plain and honest answer. If you know me to be such as he alleged—for I have lived nowhere else but among you—let not my voice be heard, however transcendent my statesmanship! Rise up this instant and condemn me! But if, in your opinion and judgment, I am far better and of better descent than my adversary; if (to speak without offense) I am not inferior, I or mine, to any respectable citizens; that give no credit to him for his other statements—it is plain they were all equally fictions—but to me let the same good-will, which you have uniformly exhibited upon many former trials, be manifested now. With all your malice, Aeschines, it was very simple to suppose that I should turn from the discussion of measures and policy to notice your scandal. I will do no such thing; I am not so crazed. Your lies and calumnies about my political life I will examine forthwith; for that loose ribaldry I shall have a word hereafter, if the jury desire to hear it.

The crimes whereof I am accused are many and grievous; for some of them the laws enact heavy—most severe penalties. The scheme of this present proceeding includes a combination of spiteful insolence, insult, railing, aspersion, and everything of the kind; while for the said charges and accusations, if they were true, the state has not the means of inflicting an adequate punishment, or anything like it. For it is not the right to debar another of access to the people and privilege of speech; moreover, to do so by way of malice and insult—by Heaven! is neither honest, nor constitutional, nor just. If the crimes which he saw me committing against the State were as heinous as he so tragically gave out, he ought to have enforced the penalties of the law against them at the time; if he saw me guilty of an impeachable offense, by impeaching and so bringing me to trial before you; if moving illegal decrees, by indicting me for them. For surely if he can prosecute Ctesiphon on my account, he would not have forborne to indict me myself, had he thought he could convict me. In short, whatever else he saw me doing to your prejudice, whether mentioned or not mentioned in his catalogue of slander, there are laws for such things, and punishments, and trials, and judgments, with sharp and severe penalties; all of which he might have enforced against me: and had he done so—had he thus pursued the proper method with me, his charges would have been consistent with his conduct. But now he has declined the straightforward and just course, avoided all proofs of guilt at the time, and after this long interval gets up, to play his part withal, a heap of accusation, ribaldry, and scandal. Then he arraigns me, but prosecutes the defendant. His hatred of me he makes the prominent part of the whole contest; yet, without having ever met me upon that ground, he openly seeks to deprive a third party of his privileges. Now, men of Athens, besides all the other arguments that may be urged in Ctesiphon’s behalf, this, methinks, may very fairly be alleged—that we should all try our own quarrel by ourselves; not leave our private dispute, and look what third party we can damage. That surely were the height of injustice.

It may appear, from what has been said, that all his charges are alike unjust and unfounded in truth; yet I wish to examine them separately, and especially his calumnies about the peace and the embassy, where he attributed to me the acts of himself and Philocrates. It is necessary also, and perhaps proper, men of Athens, to remind you how affairs stood at those times, that you may consider every single measure in reference to the occasion.

When the Phocian war had broken out—not through me, for I had not then commenced public life—you were in this position: you wished the Phocians to be saved, though you saw they were not acting right; and would have been glad for the Thebans to suffer anything, with whom for a just reason you were angry; for they had not borne with moderation their good fortune at Leuctra. The whole of Peloponnesus was divided: they that hated the Lacedaemonians were not powerful enough to destroy them; and they that ruled before by Spartan influence were not masters of the states: among them, as among the rest of the Greeks, there was a sort of unsettled strife and confusion. Philip, seeing this—it was not difficult to see—lavished bribes upon the traitors in every state, embroiled and stirred them all up against each other; and so, by the errors and follies of the rest, he was strengthening himself, and growing up to the ruin of all. But when every one saw that the then overbearing, but now unfortunate, Thebans, harassed by so long a war, must of necessity have recourse to you, Philip, to prevent this, and obstruct the union of the states, offered to you peace, to them succor. What helped him then almost to surprise you in a voluntary snare? The cowardice, shall I call it? or ignorance—or both—of the other Greeks, who while you were waging a long and incessant war—and that, too, for their common benefit, as the event has shown—assisted you neither with money nor men, nor anything else whatsoever. You, being justly and naturally offended with them, lent a willing ear to Philip.

The peace then granted was through such means brought about, not through me, as Aeschines calumniously charged. The criminal and corrupt practice of these men during the treaty will be found, on fair examination, to be the cause of our present condition. The whole matter am I for truth’s sake discussing and going through; for, let there appear to be ever so much criminality in these transactions, it is surely nothing to me. The first who spoke and mentioned the subject of peace was Aristodemus the actor; the seconder and mover, fellow-hireling for that purpose with the prosecutor, was Philocrates the Agnusian—your associate, Aeschines, not mine, though you should burst with lying. Their supporters—from whatever motives—I pass that by for the present—were Eubulus and Cephisophon. I had nothing to do with it.

Notwithstanding these facts, which I have stated exactly according to the truth, he ventured to assert—to such a pitch of impudence had he come—that I, besides being author of the peace, had prevented the country making it in a general council with the Greeks. Why, you—I know not what name you deserve!—when you saw me robbing the state of an advantage and connection so important as you described just now, did you ever express indignation? did you come forward to punish and proclaim what you now charge me with? If, indeed, I had been bribed by Philip to prevent the conjunction of the Greeks, it was your business not to be silent, but to cry out, to protest, and inform the people. But you never did so—your voice was never heard to such a purpose, and no wonder; for at that time no embassy had been sent to any of the Greeks—they had all been tested long before; and not a word of truth upon the subject has Aeschines spoken.

Besides, it is the country that he most traduces by his falsehoods. For, if you were at the same time calling on the Greeks to take arms and sending your own ambassadors to treat with Philip for peace, you were performing the part of an Eurybatus, not the act of a commonwealth, or of honest men. But it is false, it is false. For what purpose could ye have sent for them at that period? For peace? They all had it. For war? You were yourselves deliberating about peace. It appears, therefore, I was not the adviser or the author of the original peace; and none of his other calumnies against me are shown to be true.

Observe again, after the state had concluded the peace, what line of conduct each of us adopted. Hence you will understand who it was that coöperated in everything with Philip, who that acted in your behalf, and sought the advantage of the commonwealth.

I moved in the council, that our ambassadors should sail instantly for whatever place they heard Philip was in, and receive his oath: they would not, however, notwithstanding my resolution. What was the effect of this, men of Athens? I will explain. It was Philip’s interest that the interval before the oaths should be as long as possible; yours, that it should be as short. Why? Because you discontinued all your warlike preparations, not only from the day of swearing peace, but from the day you conceived hopes of it; a thing which Philip was from the beginning studious to contrive, believing—rightly enough—that whatever of your possessions he might take before the oath of ratification he should hold securely; as none would break the peace on such account. I, men of Athens, foreseeing and weighing these consequences, moved the decree, to sail for whatever place Philip was in, and receive his oath without delay; so that your allies, the Thracians, might be in possession of the places which Aeschines ridiculed just now (Serrium, Myrtium, and Ergisce), at the time of swearing the oaths; and that Philip might not become master of Thrace by securing the post of vantage, nor provide himself with plenty of money and troops to facilitate his further designs. Yet this decree he neither mentions nor reads; but reproaches me, because, as Councillor, I thought it proper to introduce the ambassadors. Why, what should I have done? Moved not to introduce men who were come for the purpose of conferring with you? or ordered the Manager not to assign them places at the theatre? They might have had places for their two obols, if the resolution had not been moved. Was it my duty to guard the petty interests of the state, and have sold our main interests like these men? Surely not. Take and read me this decree, which the prosecutor, knowing it well, passed over. Read!

The Decree

“In the Archonship of Mnesiphilus, on the thirteenth of Hecatombaeon, in the presidency of the Pandionian tribe, Demosthenes, son of Demosthenes of Paeania, moved: Whereas, Philip hath sent ambassadors for peace, and hath agreed upon articles of treaty, it is resolved by the Council and people of Athens, in order that the peace voted in the first assembly may be ratified, to choose forthwith from the whole body of Athenians five ambassadors; and that the persons elected do repair, without any delay, wheresoever they shall ascertain that Philip is, and as speedily as may be exchange oaths with him, according to the articles agreed on between him and the Athenian people, comprehending the allies of either party. For ambassadors were chosen, Eubulus of Anaphlystus, Aeschines of Cothocidae, Cephisophon of Rhamnus, Democrates of Phyla, Cleon of Cothocidae.”

Notwithstanding that I had passed this decree for the advantage of Athens, not that of Philip, our worthy ambassadors so little regarded it as to sit down in Macedonia three whole months, until Philip returned from Thrace after entirely subjugating the country; although they might in ten days, or rather in three or four, have reached the Hellespont and saved the fortresses, by receiving his oath before he reduced them: for he would never have touched them on our presence, or we should not have sworn him; and thus he would have lost the peace, and not have obtained both the peace and the fortresses.

Such was the first trick of Philip, the first corrupt act of these accursed miscreants, in the embassy: for which I avow that I was and am and ever will be at war and variance with them. But mark another and still greater piece of villainy immediately after. When Philip had sworn to the peace, having secured Thrace through these men disobeying my decree, he again bribes them not to leave Macedonia until he had got all ready for his expedition against the Phocians. His fear was, if they reported to you his design and preparation for marching, you might sally forth, sail round with your galleys to Thermopylae as before, and block up the strait; his desire, that, the moment you received the intelligence from them, he should have passed Thermopylae, and you be unable to do anything. And in such terror and anxiety was Philip, lest, notwithstanding he had gained these advantages, if you voted succor before the destruction of the Phocians, his enterprise should fail, he hires this despicable fellow, no longer in common with the other ambassadors, but by himself individually, to make that statement and report to you, by which everything was lost.

I conjure and beseech you, men of Athens, throughout the trial to remember this: that, if Aeschines in his charge had not travelled out of the indictment, neither would I have spoken a word irrelevant; but since he has resorted to every species both of accusation and calumny, it is necessary for me to reply briefly to each of his charges.

What, then, were the statements made by Aeschines, through which everything was lost? That you should not be alarmed by Philip’s having passed Thermopylae—that all would be as you desired, if you kept quiet; and in two or three days you would hear he as their friend to whom he had come as an enemy, and their enemy to whom he had come as a friend—it was not words that cemented attachments (such was his solemn phrase), but identity of interest; and it was the interest of all alike, Philip, the Phocians, and you, to be relieved from the harshness and insolence of the Thebans. His assertions were heard by some with pleasure, on account of the hatred which then subsisted against the Thebans. But what happened directly, almost immediately, afterwards? The wretched Phocians were destroyed, their cities demolished; you that kept quiet, and trusted to Aeschines, were shortly bringing in your effects out of the country, while Aeschines received gold; and yet more—while you got nothing but your enmity with the Thebans and Thessalians, Philip won their gratitude for what he had done. To prove what I say, read me the decree of Callisthenes, and the letter of Philip, from both of which these particulars will be clear to you.

These and like measures, Aeschines, are what become an honorable citizen (by their success—O earth and heaven! we should have been the greatest of people incontestably, and deserved to be so: even under their failure the result is glory, and no one blames Athens or her policy; all condemn fortune that so ordered things); but never will he desert the interests of the commonwealth, nor hire himself to her adversaries, and study the enemy’s advantage, instead of his country’s; nor on a man who has courage to advise and propose measures worthy of the state, and resolution to persevere in them, will he cast an evil eye, and, if any one privately offends him, remember and treasure it up; no, nor keep himself in a criminal and treacherous retirement, as you so often do. There is indeed a retirement just and beneficial to the state, such as you, the bulk of my countrymen, innocently enjoy; that, however, is not the retirement of Aeschines; far from it. Withdrawing himself from public life when he pleases (and that is often), he watches for the moment when you are tired of a constant speaker, or when some reverse of fortune has befallen you, or anything untoward has happened (and many are the casualties of human life); at such a crisis he springs up an orator, rising from his retreat like a wind; in full voice, with words and phrases collected, he rolls them out audibly and breathlessly, to no advantage or good purpose whatsoever, but to the detriment of some or other of his fellow-citizens and to the general disgrace.

Yet from this labor and diligence, Aeschines, if it proceeded from an honest heart, solicitous for your country’s welfare, the fruits should have been rich and noble and profitable to all—alliances of states, supplies of money, conveniences of commerce, enactment of useful laws, opposition to our declared enemies. All such things were looked for in former times; and many opportunities did the past afford for a good man and true to show himself; during which time you are nowhere to be found, neither first, second, third, fourth, fifth, nor sixth—nor in any rank at all—certainly in no service by which your country was exalted. For what alliance has come to the state by your procurement? What succors, what acquisition of good will or credit? What embassy or agency is there of yours, by which the reputation of the country has been increased? What concern, domestic, Hellenic, or foreign, of which you have had the management, has improved under it? What galleys? what ammunition? what arsenals? what repair of walls? what cavalry? What in the world are you good for? What assistance in money have you ever given, either to the rich or the poor, out of public spirit or liberality? None. But, good sir, if there is nothing of this, there is at all events zeal and loyalty. Where? when? You infamous fellow! Even at a time when all who ever spoke upon the platform gave something for the public safety, and last Aristonicus gave the sum which he had amassed to retrieve his franchise, you neither came forward nor contributed a mite—not from inability—no! for you have inherited above five talents from Philo, your wife’s father, and you had a subscription of two talents from the chairmen of the Boards for what you did to cut up the navy law. But, that I may not go from one thing to another and lose sight of the question, I pass this by. That it was not poverty prevented your contributing, already appears: it was, in fact, your anxiety to do nothing against those to whom your political life is subservient. On what occasion, then, do you show your spirit? When do you shine out? When aught is to be spoken against your countrymen!—then it is you are splendid in voice, perfect in memory, an admirable actor, a tragic Theocrines.

You mention the good men of olden times; and you are right to do so. Yet it is hardly fair, O Athenians, that he should get the advantage of that respect which you have for the dead, to compare and contrast me with them—me who am living among you; for what mortal is ignorant that toward the living there exists always more or less of ill will, whereas the dead are no longer hated even by an enemy? Such being human nature, am I to be tried and judged by the standard of my predecessors? Heaven forbid! It is not just or equitable, Aeschines. Let me be compared with you, or any persons you like of your party who are still alive. And consider this—whether it is more honorable and better for the state, that because of the services of a former age, prodigious though they are beyond all power of expression, these of the present generation should be unrequited and spurned, or that all who give proof of their good intentions should have their share of honor and regard from the people? Yet indeed—if I must say so much—my politics and principles, if considered fairly, will be found to resemble those of the illustrious ancients, and to have had the same objects in view, while yours resemble those of their calumniators: for it is certain there were persons in those times who ran down the living, and praised people dead and gone, with a malignant purpose like yourself.

Two things, men of Athens, are characteristic of a well-disposed citizen: so may I speak of myself and give the least offense: In authority, his constant aim should be the dignity and pre-eminence of the commonwealth; in all times and circumstances his spirit should be loyal. This depends upon nature; power and might upon other things. Such a spirit, you will find, I have ever sincerely cherished. Only see, when my person was demanded—when they brought Amphictyonic suits against me—when they menaced—when they promised—when they set these miscreants like wild beasts upon me—never in any way have I abandoned my affection for you. From the very beginning I chose an honest and straightforward course in politics, to support the honor, the power, the glory of my fatherland, these to exalt, in these to have my being. I do not walk about the market place gay and cheerful because the stranger has prospered, holding out my right hand and congratulating those who I think will report it yonder, and on any news of our own success shudder and groan and stoop to the earth, like these impious men, who rail at Athens, as if in so doing they did not rail at themselves; who look abroad, and if the foreigner thrives by the distress of Greece, are thankful for it, and say we should keep him so thriving all the time.