CHAPTER III
CONSTRUCTION
Spoken matter is a speech only when it possesses three divisions: an opening, a body, and a conclusion. Without possessing these three divisions it may be a talk, but it is not a speech. This can be best explained by the author quoting from one of his previous works:[1]
“Every speech, no matter what its length or what its subject, should possess three parts: an opening or statement, a body or argument, a conclusion or appeal. The opening should contain a statement of the facts to be presented, or the points upon which the argument is to be made; the body should be given over to a presentation of the facts, a narration of the story, a description of the scene, or an argument of the cause; and the conclusion should be devoted to summing up of the facts, an application of the story or the scene, or a deduction from the argument on the points.
“The opening may contain as many statements as the speaker desires, but he must make sure to argue upon and drive home in the body of the speech all that he mentions in the opening. Every statement in the opening must be like a plank in a platform, and all such planks, or statements, must be fastened together properly in the argument, otherwise there will be gaps in the platform, or statement, through which the speaker’s argument is liable to fall to failure.”
A rambling story is not a speech; a talk that has not a clear opening, a convincing argument, or a logical conclusion, is not a speech; a statement without a body is not a speech. All these things may be talks, but only a well-defined, clearly-mapped-out discourse can be dignified with the name of speech. In order that one may be a speech-maker and not a babbler, he must work in accordance with a well-defined plan. He should carefully gather the material that is to be used, arrange the parts of the speech in their proper places, and deliver the speech in the best possible manner. No matter how excellent the material may be, it will prove of little value to the speaker unless it is arranged consecutively; built, as it were, point on point, or fact on fact, and developed according to his prearranged plan. It should be so knitted together as to cohere and form a structure that, resting on a firm foundation, will be compact and complete. Desultory talking is not speech making. The speaker should possess a definite object, and keep to that object until it has been clearly presented and convincingly demonstrated. Order should reign everywhere—in the arrangement of the words, the presentation of the ideas, and the delivery of the matter. Lack of attention to these details is the cause of many failing as public speakers who, had they given proper attention to the perfection of the means to be employed, might have become clear thinkers and masterly presenters of well-ordered thoughts. Length has nothing whatever to do with the question as to whether spoken matter is a speech or not. One might speak for an hour and not deliver a speech; and, on the other hand, a perfectly constructed speech might be produced in a minute or less. Here is a matter that occupies less than two lines, or, to be exact, twenty-two words, and yet it possesses all the requirements of a speech:
The light of the body is the eye: if therefore thine eye be single, thy whole body shall be full of light.[2]
We have the proposition that “The light of the body is the eye”; the argument, “if therefore thine eye be single”; and the conclusion, “thy whole body shall be full of light.”
Specimen divisions of speeches of Demosthenes are here employed to emphasize these points, and students are advised to study closely the means adopted by this master of oratory and rhetoric in arranging his speeches. Two examples of each of the three divisions of a speech, and one example of a complete speech, are here presented in order that students may gain a practical and comprehensive idea regarding the construction of speeches.
Divisions of a Speech
opening
Against the Law of Leptines (355 b. c.). It was chiefly, men of the jury, because I deemed it good for Athens that the law should be repealed, but partly on account of the son of Chabrias, that I engaged to support these men to the utmost of my ability. It is plain enough, men of Athens, that Leptines, or whoever else defends the law, will have nothing to say for it on the merits, but will allege that certain unworthy persons obtaining immunity have evaded the public services, and will lay the greatest stress upon this point. I will pass by the injustice of such proceeding—for a complaint against some to take the honour from all—for it has in a manner been explained, and is doubtless acknowledged by you; but this I would gladly ask him: Granting most fully that not some but all were unworthy, why did he consider that you and they were to be dealt with alike? By enacting that none should be exempted, he took the exemption from those that enjoyed it; by adding that it should be unlawful to grant it thereafter, he deprived you of the power of granting. He can not surely say that, as he deprived the holders of their privilege because he deemed them unworthy of it, in the same manner he thought the people unworthy to have the power of giving their own to whom they pleased. But possibly he may reply that he framed the law so because the people are easily misled. Then what prevents your being deprived of everything, yea, of the government itself, according to such argument? For there is not a single department of your affairs in which this has not happened to you. Many decrees have you at various times been entrapped into passing. You have been persuaded ere now to choose the worse allies instead of the better. In short, amid the variety of your measures there must, I conceive, happen something of this kind occasionally. Shall we therefore make a law prohibiting the council and the people hereafter from passing bills and decrees? I scarcely think so. We ought not to be deprived of a right, in the exercise of which we have been deceived; rather should we be instructed how to avoid such error, and pass a law, not taking away our power, but giving the means of punishing those who deceive us.
On the Navy Boards (354 b. c.). It appears to me, O Athenians, that the men who praise your ancestors adopt a flattering language, not a course beneficial to the people whom they eulogize. For attempting to speak on subjects which no man can fully reach by words they carry away the reputation of clever speakers themselves, but cause the glory of those ancients to fall below its estimation in the minds of the hearers. For my part, I consider the highest praise of our ancestors to be the length of time which has elapsed during which no other men have been able to excel the pattern of their deeds. I will myself endeavour to show in what way, according to my judgment, your preparations may most conveniently be made. For thus it is. Though all of us who intend to speak should prove ourselves capital orators, your affairs, I am certain, would prosper none the more; but if any person whomsoever came forward, and could show and convince you what kind and what amount of force will be serviceable to the state, and from what resources it should be provided, all our present apprehensions would be removed. This will I endeavour to do, as far as I am able, first briefly informing you what my opinion is concerning our relations with the king.
body
The first Philippic (351 b. c.). First, I say, you must not despond, Athenians, under your present circumstances, wretched as they are; for that which is worst in them as regards the past is best for the future. What do I mean? That your affairs are amiss, men of Athens, because you do nothing which is needful; if, notwithstanding you performed your duties, it were the same, there would be no hope of amendment.
Consider, next, what you know by report, and men of experience remember, how vast a power the Lacedaemonians had not long ago, yet how nobly and becomingly you consulted the dignity of Athens, and undertook the war against them for the rights of Greece. Why do I mention this? To show and convince you, Athenians, that nothing, if you take precaution, is to be feared; nothing, if you are negligent goes as you desire. Take for examples the strength of the Lacedaemonians then, which you overcame by attention to your duties, and the insolence of this man now, by which through neglect of our interest we are confounded. But if any among you, Athenians, deem Philip hard to be conquered, looking at the magnitude of his existing power, and the loss by us of all our strongholds, they reason rightly, but should reflect, that once we held Pydna and Potidaea and Methone and all the region round about as our own, and many of the nations now leagued with him were independent and free, and preferred our friendship to his. Had Philip then taken it into his head that it was difficult to contend with Athens, when she had so many fortresses to infest his country, and he was destitute of allies, nothing that he has accomplished would he have undertaken, and never would he have acquired so large a dominion. But he saw well, Athenians, that all these places are the open prizes of war, that the possessions of the absent naturally belong to the present, those of the remiss to them that will venture and toil. Acting on such principle, he has won everything and keeps it, either by way of conquest or by friendly attachment and alliance; for all men will side with and respect those whom they see prepared and willing to make proper exertion. If you, Athenians, will adopt this principle now, though you did not before, and every man, where he can and ought to give his service to the state, be ready to give it without excuse, the wealthy to contribute, the able-bodied to enlist; in a word, plainly, if you will become your own masters, and cease each expecting to do nothing himself while his neighbour does everything for him, you shall then with Heaven’s permission recover your own, and get back what has been frittered away, and chastise Philip. Do not imagine that his empire is everlastingly secured to him as a god. There are who hate and envy him, Athenians, even among those that seem most friendly; and all feelings that are in other men belong, we may assume, to his confederates. But now they are all cowed, having no refuge through your tardiness and indolence, which I say you must abandon forthwith. For you see, Athenians, the case, to what pitch of arrogance the man has advanced who leaves you not even the choice of action or inaction, but threatens and uses (they say) outrageous language; and, unable to rest in possession of his conquests, continually widens their circle and, while we dally and delay, throws his net all around us. What, then, Athenians, when will you act as becomes you? In what event? In that of necessity, I suppose. And how should we regard the events happening now? Methinks to freemen the strongest necessity is the disgrace of their condition. Or tell me, do you like walking about and asking one other, Is there any news? Why, could there be greater news than a man of Macedonia subduing Athenians, and directing the affairs of Greece? Is Philip dead? No, but he is sick. And what matters it to you? Should anything befall this man you will soon create another Philip if you attend to business thus. For even he has been exalted not so much by his own strength but by our negligence. And, again, should anything happen to him; should fortune, which still takes better care of us than we of ourselves, be good enough to accomplish this, observe that, being on the spot, you would step in while things were in confusion and manage them as you pleased; but as you are, though occasion offered Amphipolis, you would not be in a position to accept it, with neither forces nor counsels at hand.
However, as to the importance of a general zeal in the discharge of duty, believing you are convinced and satisfied, I say no more.
On the Liberty of the Rhodians (351 b. c.) One of the events for which I consider you should be thankful to the gods is that a people, who to gratify their own insolence went to war with you not long ago, now place their hopes of safety in you alone. Well may we be rejoiced at the present crisis, for if your measures thereupon be wisely taken the result will be that the calumnies of those who traduce our country you will practically and with credit and honour refute. The Chians, Byzantines, and Rhodians accused us of a design to oppress them, and therefore combined to make the last war against us. It will turn out that Mausolus, who contrived and instigated these proceedings, pretending to be a friend of the Rhodians, has deprived them of their liberty; the Chians and Byzantines, who called them allies, have not aided them in misfortune, while you, whom they dreaded, are the only people who have wrought their deliverance. And this being seen by all the world, you will cause the people in every state to regard your friendship as the token of their security; nor can there be a greater blessing for you than thus to obtain from all men a voluntary attachment and confidence.
I marvel to see the same persons advising you to oppose the king on behalf of the Egyptians, and afraid of him in the matter of the Rhodian people. All men know that the latter are Greeks, the former a portion of his subjects. And I think some of you remember that when you were debating about the king’s business I first came forward and advised—nay, I was the only one, or one of two, that gave such counsel—that your prudent course in my opinion was not to allege your quarrel with the king as the excuse for your arming, but to arm against your existing enemies, and defend yourselves against him also if he attempted to injure you. Nor did I offer this advice without obtaining your approval, for you agreed with me. Well, then, my reasoning of today is consistent with the argument on that occasion; for, would the king take me to his counsels, I should advise him as I advise you, in defense of his own possessions to make war upon any Greeks that opposed him, but not to think of claiming dominions to which he had no manner of title. If now it be your general determination, Athenians, to surrender to the king all places that he gets possession of, whether by surprise or by deluding certain of the inhabitants, you have determined, in my judgment, unwisely; but if in the cause of justice you esteem it your duty either to make war, if needful, or to suffer any extremity, in the first place, there will be the less necessity for such trials, in proportion as you are resolved to meet them; and, secondly, you will manifest a spirit that becomes you.
That I suggest nothing new in urging you to liberate the Rhodians, that you will do nothing new in following my counsel, will appear if I remind you of certain measures that succeeded. Once, O Athenians, you sent Timotheus out to assist Ariobarzanes, annexing to the decree “that he was not to infringe your treaty with the king.” Timotheus, seeing Ariobarzanes had openly revolted from the king, and that Samos was garrisoned by Cyprothemis, under the appointment of Tigranes, the king’s deputy, renounced the intention of assisting Ariobarzanes, but invested the island with his forces and delivered it. And to this day there has been no war against you on that account. Man will not fight for aggressive purposes so readily as for defensive. To resist spoliation they strive with all their might. Not so to gratify ambition; this they will attempt if there be none to hinder them; but if prevented, they regard not their opponents as having done them an injury.
My belief is that Artemisia would not even oppose this enterprise now if our state were embarked in the measure. Attend a moment and see whether my calculations be right or wrong. I consider, were my king succeeding in all his designs in Egypt, Artemisia would make a strenuous effort to get Rhodes into his power, not from affection to the king, but from a desire, while he tarried in her neighborhood, to confer an important obligation upon him, so that he might give her the most friendly reception; but since he fares as they report, having miscarried in his attempts, she judges that this island—and so the fact is—would be of no further use to the king at present, but only a fortress to overawe her kingdom and prevent disturbances. Therefore it seems to me she would rather you had the island, without her appearing to have surrendered it, than that he should obtain possession. I think, indeed, she will send no succours at all, but if she do they will be scanty and feeble. As to the king, what he will do I can not pretend to know; but this I will maintain, that it is expedient for Athens to have it immediately understood whether he means to claim the Rhodian city or not; for, if he should, you will have to deliberate not on the concerns of Rhodes only, but on those of Athens and all Greece.
Even if the Rhodians who are now in the government had held it by themselves I would not have advised you to espouse their cause; nor though they promised to do everything for you. But I see that in the beginning, in order to put down the democracy, they gained over a certain number of citizens, and afterward banished those very men when they had accomplished their purpose. I think, therefore, that people who have been false to two parties would be no steadier allies to you. And never would I have proffered this counsel had I thought it would benefit the Rhodian people only; for I am not their state friend, nor is any of them connected with me by ties of private hospitality. And even if both these causes had existed I would not have spoken unless I had considered it for your advantage. Indeed, as far as the Rhodians are concerned, if the advocate for their deliverance may be allowed to say so, I am rejoiced at what has happened—that, after grudging to you the recovery of your rights, they have lost their own liberty; and, when they might have had an alliance on equal terms with Greeks and their betters, they are under subjection to barbarians and slaves, whom they have admitted into their fortresses. I would almost say that, if you determine to assist them, these events have turned out for their good. For, during prosperity, I doubt whether they would have learned discretion, being Rhodians; but since they are taught by experience that folly is mightily injurious to men, they may possibly perhaps become wiser for the future; and this I think would be no small advantage to them. I say, therefore, you should endeavour to rescue these people, and not harbour resentment, considering that you too have often been deceived by miscreants, but for no such deceit would you allow that you merited punishment yourselves.
Observe also, men of Athens, that you have waged many wars both against democracies and against oligarchies—this, indeed, you know without my telling—but for what cause you have been at war with either perhaps not one of you considers. What are the causes? Against democratical states your wars have been either for private grievances, when you could not make public satisfaction, or for territory, or boundaries, or a point of honour, or the leadership; against oligarchies for none of these matters, but for your constitution and freedom. Therefore I would not hesitate to say I think it better that all the Greeks should be your enemies with a popular government than your friends under oligarchal. For with freemen I consider you would have no difficulty in making peace when you chose, but with people under an oligarchy even friendship I hold to be insecure. It is impossible that the few can be attached to the many, the seekers of power to the lovers of constitutional equality.
conclusion
Against the Law of Leptines (355 b. c.). One might pursue the argument and show that in no single respect is the law proper or expedient for you; but, that you may comprehend the whole question at once, and that I may have done speaking, do what I now advise. Make your comparison; consider what will happen to you if you condemn the law, and what if you do not; then keep in mind what you think will be the consequence in either event, that you may choose the better course. If now you condemn the law, as we advise, the deserving will have their rights from you; and if there be any undeserving party, as I grant there may be, such a one, besides being deprived of his honour, will suffer what penalty you think proper according to the amended statute, while the commonwealth will appear faithful, just, true to all men. Should you decide in its favour, which I trust you will not, the good will be wronged on account of the bad, the undeserving will be the cause of misfortune to others, and suffer no punishment themselves, while the commonwealth (contrary to what I said just now) will be universally esteemed faithless, envious, base. It is not meet, O Athenians, that for so foul a reproach you should reject fair and honourable advantages. Remember, each of you individually will share in the reputation of your common judgment. It is plain to the bystanders and to all men that in the court Leptines is contending with us, but in the mind of each of you jurymen generosity is arrayed against envy, justice against iniquity, all that is virtuous against all that is base. If you follow the wiser counsels, and give judgment in my favour, you will yourselves have the credit of a proper decision, and will have voted what is best for the commonwealth; and should occasion ever arise, you will not lack men willing at their own risk to defend you.
You must give your earnest attention to these things, and be careful that you are not forced into error. Many a time, O Athenians, instead of it being proved to you that measures were just, they have been extorted from you by the clamour and violence and impudence of the speakers. Let not this happen now; it would not be well. What you have determined to be just, keep in mind and remember until you vote, that you may give your votes conscientiously against evil counsellors. I marvel when you punish with death those who debase the coin, if you will give ear to persons who render the whole commonwealth false and treacherous. You will not surely! O Jupiter and the gods!
I have nothing more to add, as you seem fully to understand what has been said.
On the Navy Boards (354 b. c.). Not to trouble you, men of Athens, with over-many words, I will give you a summary of my advice and retire. I bid you prepare yourselves against existing enemies, and I declare that with this same force you should resist the king and all other people, if they attempt to injure you; but never inflict an injustice either in word or deed. Let us look that our actions, and not our speeches on the platform, be worthy of our ancestors. If you pursue this course you will do service not only to yourselves but also to them who give the opposite counsel, since you will not be angry with them afterward for your errors committed now.
A Complete Speech
The First Olynthiac (349 b. c.). I believe, men of Athens, you would give much to know what is the true policy to be adopted in the present matter of inquiry. This being the case, you should be willing to hear with attention those who offer you their counsel. Besides, that you will have the benefit of all preconsidered advice, I esteem it part of your good fortune that many fit suggestions will occur to some speakers at the moment, so that from them all you may easily choose what is profitable.
The present juncture, Athenians, all but proclaims aloud that you must yourselves take these affairs in hand if you care for their success. I know not how we seem disposed in the matter. My own opinion is, vote succour immediately, and make the speediest preparations for sending it off from Athens, that you may not incur the same mishap as before; send also ambassadors to announce this, and watch the proceedings. For the danger is that this man, being unscrupulous and clever at turning events to account, making concessions when it suits him, threatening at other times (his threats may well be believed), slandering us and urging our absence against us, may convert and wrest to his use some of our main resources. Though, strange to say, Athenians, the very cause of Philip’s strength is a circumstance favorable to you. His having it in his sole power to publish or conceal his designs, his being at the same time general, sovereign, paymaster, and everywhere accompanying his army, is a great advantage for quick and timely operations in war; but for a peace with the Olynthians, which he would gladly make, it has a contrary effect. For it is plain to the Olynthians that now they are fighting not for glory or for a slice of territory, but to save their country from destruction and servitude. They know how he treated those Amphipolitans who surrendered to him their city, and those Pydneans who gave him admittance. And generally, I believe, a despotic power is mistrusted by free states, especially if their dominions are adjoining. All this being known to you, Athenians, all else of importance considered, I say you must take heart and spirit, and apply yourselves more than ever to the war, contributing promptly, serving personally, leaving nothing undone. No plea or pretence is left you for declining your duty. What you were all so clamorous about, that the Olynthians should be pressed into a war with Philip, has of itself come to pass, and in a way most advantageous to you. For, had they undertaken the war at your instance, they might have been slippery allies, with minds but half resolved, perhaps; but since they hate him on a quarrel of their own, their enmity is like to endure on account of their fears and their wrongs. You must not then, Athenians, forego this lucky opportunity, nor commit the error which you have often done heretofore. For example, when we returned from succouring the Euboeans, and Hierax and Stratocles of Amphipolis came to this platform, urging us to sail and receive possession of their city, if we had shown the same zeal for ourselves as for the safety of Euboea you would have held Amphipolis then and been rid of all the troubles that ensued. Again, when news came that Pydna, Potidaea, Methone, Pagasae, and the other places (not to waste time in enumerating them) were besieged, had we to any one of these in the first instance carried prompt and reasonable succour, we should have found Philip far more tractable and humble now. But, by always neglecting the present and imagining the future would shift for itself, we, O men of Athens, have exalted Philip, and made him greater than any King of Macedon ever was. Here, then, is come a crisis, that of Olynthus, self-offered to the state, inferior to none of the former. And methinks, men of Athens, any man fairly estimating what the gods have done for us, notwithstanding many untoward circumstances, might with reason be grateful to them. Our numerous losses in way may justly be charged to our own negligence; but that they happened not long ago, and that an alliance to counterbalance them is open to our acceptance, I must regard as manifestations of divine favour. It is much the same as in money matters. If a man keep what he gets he is thankful to fortune; if he lose it by imprudence, he loses withal his memory of the obligations. So in political affairs, they who misuse their opportunities forget even the good which the gods send them, for every prior event is judged commonly by the last result. Wherefore, Athenians, we must be exceedingly careful of our future measures, that by amendment therein we may efface the shame of the past. Should we abandon these men too, and Philip reduce Olynthus, let any one tell me what is to prevent him marching where he pleases? Does any of you, Athenians, compute or consider the means by which Philip, originally weak, has become great? Having first taken Amphipolis, then Pydna, Potidaea next, Methone afterward, he invaded Thessaly. Having ordered matters at Pherae, Pagasae, Magnesia, everywhere exactly as he pleased, he departed for Thrace, where, after displacing some kings and establishing others, he fell sick; again recovering, he lapsed not into indolence, but instantly attacked the Olynthians. I omit his expeditions to Illyria and Paeonia, that against Arymbas, and some others.
Why, it may be said, do you mention all this now? That you, Athenians, may feel and understand both the folly of continually abandoning one thing after another, and the activity which forms part of Philip’s habit and existence, which makes it impossible for him to rest content with his achievements. If it be his principle ever to do more than he has done, and yours to apply yourselves vigorously to nothing, see what the end promises to be. Heavens! which of you is so simple as not to know that the war yonder will soon be here if we are careless? And should this happen, I fear, O Athenians, that as men who thoughtlessly borrow on large interest, after a brief accommodation, lose their estate, so will it be with us; found to have paid dear for our idleness and self-indulgence, we shall be reduced to many hard and unpleasant shifts, and struggle for the salvation of our country.
To censure, I may be told, is easy for any man; to show what measures the case requires is the part of a counsellor. I am not ignorant, Athenians, that frequently when any disappointment happens you are angry, not with the parties in fault, but with the last speakers on the subject; yet never, with a view to self-protection, would I suppress what I deem for your interest. I say, then, you must give a twofold assistance here: first, save the Olynthians their towns, and send our troops for that purpose; secondly, annoy the enemy’s country with ships and other troops; omit either of these courses, and I doubt the expedition will be fruitful. For, should he, suffering your incursion, reduce Olynthus, he will easily march to the defense of his kingdom; or, should you only throw succour into Olynthus, and he, seeing things out of danger at home, keep up a close and vigilant blockade, he must in time prevail over the besieged. Your assistance, therefore, must be effective and twofold.
Such are the operations I advise. As to a supply of money: you have money, Athenians; you have a larger military fund than any people, and you receive it just as you please. If you will assign this to your troops you need no further supply; otherwise you need a further, or rather you have none at all. How then? some man may exclaim; do you move that this be a military fund? Verily, not I. My opinion, indeed, is that there should be soldiers raised, and a military fund, and one and the same regulation for receiving and performing what is due; only you just without trouble take your allowance for the festivals. It remains, then, I imagine, that all just contribute; if much be wanted, much; if little, little. Money must be had; without it nothing proper can be done. Other persons propose other ways and means. Choose which you think expedient, and put hands to work while it is yet time.
It may be well to consider and calculate how Philip’s affairs now stand. They are not, as they appear, or as an inattentive observer might pronounce, in very good trim, or in the most favourable position. He would never have begun this war had he imagined he must fight. He expected to carry everything on the first advance, and has been mistaken. This disappointment is one thing that troubles and dispirits him; another is the state of Thessaly. That people were always, you know, treacherous to all men, and just as they ever have been they are to Philip. They have resolved to demand the restitution of Pagasae, and have prevented his fortifying Magnesia; and I was told they would no longer allow him to take the revenue of their harbours and markets, which they say should be applied to the public business of Thessaly, not received by Philip. Now, if he be deprived of this fund, his means will be much straitened for paying his mercenaries. And surely we must suppose that Paeonians and Illyrians, and all such people, would rather be free and independent than under subjection, for they are unused to obedience, and the man is a tyrant. So report says, and I can well believe it, for undeserved success leads weak-minded men into folly; and thus it appears often that to maintain prosperity is harder than to acquire it. Therefore must you, Athenians, looking on his difficulty as your opportunity, assist cheerfully in the war, sending embassies where required, taking arms yourselves, exciting all other people, for if Philip got such an opportunity against us, and there was a war on our frontier, how eagerly think you he would attack you! Then are you not ashamed that the very damage which you suffer, if he had the power, you dare not seize the moment to inflict on him?
And let not this escape you, Athenians, that you have now the choice whether you shall fight there, or he in your country. If Olynthus hold out, you will fight there and distress his dominions, enjoying your own home in peace. If Philip take that city, who shall then prevent his marching here? Thebans? I wish it be not too harsh to say they will be ready to join in the invasion. Phocians? who can not defend their own country without your assistance. Or some other ally? But, good sir, he will not desire! Strange, indeed, if, what he is thought foolhardy for prating now, this he would not accomplish if he might. As to the vast difference between a war here or there, I fancy there needs no argument. If you were obliged to be out yourselves for thirty days only, and take the necessaries for camp-service from the land (I mean without an enemy therein), your agricultural population would sustain, I believe, greater damage than what the whole expense of the late war amounted to. But if a war should come, what damage must be expected? There is the insult, too, and the disgrace of the thing, worse than any damage to right-thinking men.
On all these accounts, then, we must unite to lend our succour, and drive off the war yonder; the rich, that, spending a little from the abundance which they happily possess, they may enjoy the residue in security; the young, that, gaining military experience in Philip’s territory, they may become redoubtable champions to preserve their own; the orators, that they may pass a good account of their statesmanship, for on the result of measures will depend your judgment of their conduct. May it for every cause by prosperous!
FOOTNOTES:
[1]“Speech-Making,” page 1. By Edwin Gordon Lawrence (The A. S. Barnes Company).
[2]St. Matthew, vi:22.