On the Crown
Demosthenes
Demosthenes. Vol. II. De Corona, De Falsa Legatione, XVIII, XIX. Vince, C. A. and Vince, J. H., translators. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1926 (1939 reprint).
they would still be dwelling prosperously in their own countries, in freedom and independence, securely and without fear, grateful to you and to all the Athenians for the great and manifold blessings they owed to me. To prove that, as a precaution against envy, I am using words that do less than justice to my deeds, please take these papers, and read the list of expeditions sent in pursuance of my decrees.
(The List of Expeditions in Aid is read)
It was the duty, Aeschines, of an upright and honor able citizen to take these or similar measures. If they had been successful, we should have been, beyond controversy, the greatest of nations and a nation that deserved its greatness: and, though they have failed, there remains the result that our reputation stands high, and that no man can find fault with Athens or her policy, but lays the blame on the fortune that so ordered the issue.
Assuredly it was not the duty of such a citizen to abandon the cause of his country, to take the hire of her adversaries, to wait on the occasions, not of Athens, but of her enemies. It was not his duty to look with an evil eye upon a man who had made it his business to support or propose measures worthy of our traditions, and was resolved to stand by such measures; nor to treasure vindictively the memory of private annoyances. Nor was it his duty to hold his peace dishonestly and deceptively, as you so often do.
There is, indeed, a silence that is honest and beneficial to the city, such as is observed in all simplicity by the majority of you citizens. Not such, but far, far different, is the silence of Aeschines. Withdrawing himself from public life whenever he thinks fit—and that is very frequently—he lies in wait for the time when you will be weary of the incessant speaker, or when some unlucky reverse has befallen you, or any of those vexations that are so frequent in the life of mortal men; and then, seizing the occasion, he breaks silence and the orator reappears like a sudden squall, with his voice in fine training; he strings together the words and the phrases that he has accumulated, emphatically and without a pause; but, alas, they are all useless, they serve no good purpose, they are directed to the injury of this or that citizen, and to the discredit of the whole community.