Against Leptines

I have still a few things to say to you before I sit down. For you ought, in my opinion, men of Athens, to be anxious for the utmost possible efficiency of our laws, but especially of those on which depends the strength or weakness of our State. And which are they? They are those which assign rewards to those who do good and punishments to those who do evil. For in truth, if from fear of legal penalties all men shunned wrongdoing, and if from ambition for the rewards of good service all chose the path of duty, what prevents our city from being great and all our citizens honest, with not a rogue among them?

Now the law of Leptines, Athenians, does harm not only by abolishing the rewards of good service and so rendering fruitless the good intentions of those who are ambitious for honor, but also by leaving our city under the serious reproach of imbecility. For you are of course aware that for each grave offence a single penalty is provided by the law, which says explicitly that at any trial there shall be not more than one assessment of penalty, whichever the court imposes, whether a personal punishment or a fine, but not both.

But Leptines has used a different measure and says that if anyone claims a return from you, he shall be disfranchised, and his property shall be confiscated. There you have two penalties. The process shall be by laying information or by summary arrest; and if he be convicted, he shall be liable under the law which provides for the case of a man holding office while in debt to the treasury. Death is what he means, for such is the punishment in that case. Why, here are three penalties Is it not monstrously hard, Athenians, if it proves more serious in your courts to ask for a return for good service than to be convicted of some heinous crime?

Men of Athens, this law, so dishonorable, so unsound, so suggestive of envy and spite and—I spare you the rest. Those are the sort of things that the framer of the law seems to favor, but you must not imitate them nor display sentiments unworthy of yourselves. I ask you in Heaven’s name, what should we all most earnestly deprecate? What do all our laws most carefully guard against? What but those vengeful murders against which our specially appointed protector is the Council of the Areopagus?

Now Draco, in this group of laws, marked the terrible wickedness of homicide by banning the offender from the lustral water, the libations, the loving-cup, the sacrifices and the market-place; he enumerated everything that he thought likely to deter the offender; but he never robbed him of his claim to justice; he defined the circumstances that make homicide justifiable and proclaimed the accused in such case free from taint. If, then, your laws can justify homicide, is this fellow’s law to forbid any claim, even a just one, to recompense? Not so, men of Athens!

Do not let it appear that you have been more diligent to prevent any of your benefactors from winning a recompense than to suppress murder in your city. Rather, recalling the occasions on which you have repaid the services rendered you, and remembering the inscription of Demophantus, already referred to by Phormio, on which it stands written and confirmed by oath that whoso shall suffer in defence of the democracy shall receive the same reward as Harmodius and Aristogiton, vote for the repeal of this law; for if you do not, it is impossible for you to observe your oaths.

And besides all this, observe a further point. That law cannot be a sound one which deals with the past and the future in the same way. None, says this law, shall be immune save and except the descendants of Harmodius and Aristogiton. Good! Nor shall anyone in future be granted immunity. What! not even if other such benefactors arise, Leptines? If you found fault with the past, can it be that you also foresaw the future?