On the Chersonese

What, then, is the task of sound patriots? To know and realize all this, to shake off our outrageous and incurable slothfulness, to contribute funds, to call upon our allies, and to provide and arrange for the permanent upkeep of our existing army, so that just as Philip has a force ready to attack and enslave all the Greek states, so you may have one ready to protect and assist them all.

For if you trust to mere expeditions, you can never gain any of your essential objects. You must first levy a force and provide for its maintenance, and appoint paymasters and clerks, and arrange that there shall be the strictest watch kept over your expenditure, and afterwards you must demand from your paymasters an account of their moneys, and from the general an account of his campaign. If you do this, and if you are really in earnest about it, you will either compel Philip to keep the peace fairly and to abide within his own frontiers—and that would be the greatest blessing of all—or you will fight him on equal terms.

But if anyone thinks that all this means great expense and much toil and worry, he is quite correct, but if he reckons up what will hereafter be the result to Athens if she refuses to act, he will conclude that it is to our interest to perform our duty willingly.

For if you have the guarantee of some god, since no mere mortal could be a satisfactory surety for such an event that if you remain inactive and abandon everything, Philip will not in the end march against yourselves, by Zeus and all the other gods, it would be disgraceful and unworthy of you and of the resources of your city and the record of your ancestors to abandon all the other Greeks to enslavement for the sake of your own ease, and I for one would rather die than be guilty of proposing such a policy. All the same, if someone else proposes it and wins your assent, so be it: offer no resistance, sacrifice everything.

But if no one approves of this, and if on the contrary we all of us foresee that the more we allow him to extend his power, the stronger and more formidable we shall find him in war, what escape is open to us, or why do we delay? When, men of Athens, shall we consent to do our duty? Whenever it is necessary, you will say.

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

Therefore, although I would gladly touch on all the other topics and explain the way in which certain politicians are working your ruin, I will confine myself to pointing out that whenever any question arises that concerns Philip, instantly up jumps someone and tells you how good a thing it is to preserve peace, and what a bother it is to keep up a large army, and how certain persons want to plunder your wealth, and all that sort of thing; and by these speeches they put you off and afford leisure for Philip to do whatever he wishes.

But the result of this is for you indeed repose and idleness, for the present—blessings which I am afraid you will one day consider dearly purchased—but for the speakers the popularity and the payment. But in my view it is not to you that they should recommend peace, for you have taken the advice and there you sit: it is to the man who is even now on the war-path.

For if Philip can be won over, your share of the compact is ready to hand. Again, they should reflect that the irksome thing is not the expense of securing our safety, but the doom that will be ours if we shrink from that expense. As for the plunder of your wealth, they ought to prevent that by proposing some way of checking it and not by abandoning your interests.