On the Crown

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

There is no man living, whether Greek or barbarian, who does not know that the Thebans, or the Lacedaemonians, who held supremacy before them,[*](The Spartan hegemony lasted from 404 to 371, the Theban from 371 to 362.) or the king of Persia himself, would cheerfully and gratefully have given Athens liberty to keep what she had and to take what she chose, if only she would do their behest and surrender the primacy of Greece.

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

Such constancy you deem so exemplary, and so congenial to your character, that you still sing the praises of those of your forefathers by whom it was most signally displayed. And you are right. Who would not exult in the valor of those famous men who, rather than yield to a conqueror’s behests, left city and country and made the war-galleys their home; who chose Themistocles, the man who gave them that counsel, as their commander, and stoned Cyrsilus[*](stoned Cyrilus: at Salamis, 479 B.C., when Athens was held by the Persians; see Hdt. 9.5, where, however, the name is Lycides. Not 480 B.C., as Cicero, Off. 3.11.48, implies; though the rest of the sentence refers to the conditions of that year.) to death for advising obedient submission? Aye, and his wife also was stoned by your wives.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(The Ambassadors’ Dispatch is read)

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

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

(The Reply of the Thebans is read)

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

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

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

(The Decrees appointing a Public Thanksgivingare read)

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

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

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