On the Crown

Yet if all that assiduous practice, Aeschines, had been conducted in a spirit of honesty and of solicitude for your country’s well-being, it should have yielded a rich and noble harvest for the benefit of us all—alliances of states, new revenues, development of commerce, useful legislation, measures of opposition to our avowed enemies.

In days of old all those services afforded the recognized test of statesmanship: and the time through which you have passed supplied to an upright politician many opportunities of showing his worth; but among such men you won no position—you were neither first, second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth, nor anywhere in the race—at least when the power of your country was to be enlarged.

What alliance does Athens owe to your exertions? What auxiliary expedition, what gain of amity or reputation? What embassy or service, by which the credit of the city has been raised? What project in domestic, Hellenic, or foreign policy, of which you took charge, has ever been successful? What war-galleys, or munitions, or docks, or fortifications, or cavalry, do we owe to you? Of what use in the wide world are you? What public-spirited assistance have you ever given to rich or to poor? None whatever.

But come, sir, without any of these things a man may show patriotism and zeal. Where? When? Why, you incorrigible knave, even at the time when every man who ever spoke from the tribune gave freely to the national defence, when at last even Aristonicus gave the money he had collected to redeem his citizenship, you never came forward and put your name down for a farthing. And yet you were certainly not without means, for you had inherited more than five talents from the estate of your father-in-law Philo, and you had a present of two talents, subscribed by the chairmen of the Navy Boards, as a reward for spoiling the Navy Reform Bill.