LIFE OF DEMOSTHENES.
I. The writer of the Ode to Alkibiades on the occasion of his winning the chariot-race at Olympia, whether he was Euripides, as is commonly supposed, or some other poet, my friend Sossius, tells us that the first thing necessary for a perfectly happy man is that he should be born a citizen of some famous city. But for my own part I believe that for the enjoyment of true happiness, which depends chiefly upon a man’s character and disposition, it makes no difference whether he be born in an obscure state or of an ill-favoured mother, or not. It would indeed be absurd if one were to suppose that the town of Iulis, which is only a small part of the little island of Keos or Ægina, which some Athenian bade his countrymen clear away because it was an eyesore to Peiræus, should be able to produce good actors and poets, and yet be unable to bring forth a just, virtuous, sensible and high-minded man. We may reasonably expect that those arts by which men gain glory or profit should be neglected and fall into decay in small and obscure towns; but virtue, like a hardy plant, can take root in any country where it meets with noble natures and industrious disposition. I myself therefore must lay the blame of my intellectual and moral shortcomings, not upon the insignificance of my native city, but upon myself.
II. However, when a man is engaged in compiling a history from materials which are not ready to his hand, but for the most part are to be found scattered through other foreign towns, it becomes really of the first importance that he should live in some famous, cultivated, and populous city, where he can have unlimited access to books of all kinds, and where he can also personally collect and inquire into the truth of those stories which, though not reduced to writing, are all the more likely to be true because they rest upon universal popular tradition. The work of a historian who is deprived of these advantages must necessarily be defective in many essential particulars. Now I, who belong to a small city, and who love to live in it lest it should become even smaller, when I was at Rome, and during my travels in Italy, found my time so taken up with political business and with the care of my pupils in philosophy, that I had no leisure to learn the Roman language, and have only applied myself to Latin literature at a very advanced period of life. In this reading of Latin books, singular as it may appear, I did not find that the words assisted me to discover the meaning, but rather that my knowledge of the history enabled me to find out the meaning of the words. I think that to speak the Latin language with elegance, to understand it readily, and to use its various idioms and phrases correctly, is for a literary man both useful and interesting; but the amount of study and practice which it requires is considerable and should only be undertaken by those who are younger than myself, and who have more leisure time to devote to the acquisition of such accomplishments.
III. In consequence of these considerations, in this my fifth book of Parallel Lives, which deals with the lives of Demosthenes and Cicero, I intend to describe their several characters, and to compare them with one another by means of their political acts, but I do not mean to examine minutely into their respective speeches, or to decide which of the two was the more pleasing or the more able orator. Were I to attempt such a task, I should be forgetting Ion’s proverb about a “fish out of water,” like the all-accomplished Cæcilius, who has boldly taken upon himself to write a comparison of Demosthenes with Cicero. Perhaps, however, we might begin to doubt the divine origin of the commandment “know thyself,” if we found men always ready to apply it. Indeed Heaven appears to have originally intended to form the characters of Demosthenes and Cicero on the same model, and in some instances to have implanted in them precisely the same qualities, such as great personal ambition, love of freedom, and want of courage in the wars, yet to have left much to chance. I think it would be difficult to find an instance of any two other orators who both rose from a humble station to great power and influence, who both opposed absolute monarchs, both lost favourite daughters, were both exiled and brought back with honour, who both when flying from their country a second time fell into the hands of their enemies, and with whose deaths the liberties of their countrymen were finally extinguished; so that it is hard to say whether their resemblance is due more to nature, which originally moulded their characters alike, or to fortune, which placed then in exactly similar circumstances. First, then, I will relate the life of the elder of the two.
IV. The father of Demosthenes was also named Demosthenes, and belonged, according to Theopompus, to the best class of Athenian citizens. He was commonly called “the sword cutler,” because he possessed a large workshop and many slaves skilled in cutlery. As for the accusation which the orator Æschines brings against his mother, that she was the daughter of one Gylon, who was banished for treason, by a foreign woman, we cannot tell whether it is true or only a calumnious imputation. Demosthenes was left an orphan at the age of seven years, and was the heir to considerable property, amounting in all to no less than fifteen talents. He was scandalously ill-used by his guardians, who appropriated much of his income, and neglected the rest so much that he was unable to pay his teachers. He grew up ignorant of much that a boy of good birth is expected to learn, partly for this reason, and partly on account of his weak health, which caused his mother to keep him away from school. He was a sickly child, and it is said that the opprobrious nickname of Batalus was bestowed upon him by his school-fellows because of his bodily weakness. Batalus, according to some writers, was an effeminate flute-player, whose habits were satirized in a comic drama written by Antiphanes. Others assert that Batalus was a poet who wrote in a drunken licentious style; and there seems also some foundation for the belief that this word was used for a certain part of the human body by the Athenians of that time. The other nickname of Demosthenes, Argas, either alludes to his savage and harsh temper, for some poets use the word to mean a snake; or else it refers to his speeches, as wearying those who heard them; for Argas was the name of a poet whose verses were bad and tiresome. And, as Plato says, so much for this.
V. We are told that he was first led to turn his attention, to oratory by the following incident. When Kallistratus was going to make a speech in court about the affair of Oropus[125] great interest was taken in the trial because of the ability of the orator, who at that time was at the height of his reputation, and also because of the important character of the law suit. Demosthenes, hearing his teachers and attendants making arrangement to be present at the trial, persuaded his own servant by great entreaties to take him to hear the speeches. The man, who was intimate with the doorkeepers of the court, managed to obtain a place for Demosthenes, in which the boy could sit unseen by the public and hear all that was said. Kallisthenes spoke very brilliantly and was much admired. He excited the envy of Demosthenes by the honours which he received, as he was escorted home by a long train of friends who congratulated him upon his success; but the boy was even more impressed by the power of his eloquence, which enabled him to deal with everything just as he pleased. In consequence of this Demosthenes neglected all other branches of learning, neglected all the sports of childhood, and laboriously practised and exercised himself in the art of oratory, meaning some day to become an orator himself. He studied rhetoric under Isaeus, although Isokrates was giving lessons at the same time, either, according to some writers, because, being an orphan, he was unable to raise the sum of ten minæ which Isokrates demanded as a fee, or because he thought that the vigorous invective of Isaeus was more what he required to learn. Hermippus informs us that he read in some anonymous work that Demosthenes was a scholar of Plato, and learned much of the art of speaking from him, while he mentions having heard from Ktesibius that Demosthenes had been lent the works of Isokrates and Alkidamas by one Kallias, a Syracusan, and some others, and that he used to read and practise himself in them in secret.
VI.. When he came of age he at once brought a series of actions against his guardians for malversation of his property, while they resorted to every species of legal subtlety and chicanery to avoid making restitution. By publicly pleading his cause, as Thucydides says, “he learned his trade by dangers,” and succeeded in recovering some of his paternal estate, though but a small part of that to which he was entitled. He gained, however, confidence and practice as a public speaker, and the fascinating excitement and sense of power which he experienced in these contests emboldened him to become a professional orator and to deal with political matters. We are told that Laomedon of Orchomenus, by the advice of his physicians, used to run long distances as a remedy for a disease of the spleen from which he suffered, until he not only overcame his disorder, but was able to enter for races at the games, and became one of the best long-distance runners of his time. Even so Demosthenes, who was forced by his private misfortunes to make his first appearance as a speaker, gained such skill and power by his success in the law-courts that he soon took the lead among the speakers in the public assembly. Yet when he first addressed the people he was violently coughed down, interrupted and ridiculed, because his speech was found dull and tiresome, being confused in style and strained and artificial in argument. It is said that his voice was weak, and his pronunciation indistinct, and that, as he was frequently obliged to pause for want of breath, it was difficult to follow the meaning of his sentences. At last he left the public assembly and wandered about Peiræus in despair. Here he was met by an old man named Eunomus of Thriasia,[126] who reproved him and told him that he did himself great wrong, because, having a manner of speech extremely like that of Perikles, he permitted himself to be disheartened by failure, and did not face the clamour of the rabble boldly, and did not train his body to be strong enough to support the strain of such contests, but allowed himself to fall into a weakly and effeminate condition.
VII. After a second failure, as he was going home overwhelmed with shame hiding his face in his cloak, Satyrus the actor is said to have followed him and joined him. Demosthenes told him with tears in his eyes that although he had taken more pains than any other speaker, and had devoted all his energes to the study of eloquence, yet he could not gain the ear of the people, but that ignorant drunken sailors were listened to when they mounted the tribune, while he was treated with scorn. On hearing this Satyrus answered, “Demosthenes, what you say is very true, but I will soon apply a remedy, if you will recite to me one of the long speeches from the plays of Sophokles or Euripides.” After Demosthenes had recited a speech, Satyrus recited the same speech in turn, and so altered it and gave it so much more grace, by throwing into it the expression which the verses required, that it appeared to Demosthenes to be quite different. Having thus learned how much a speech gains by a really artistic delivery, Demosthenes perceived that it was of but little use for him to study the matter of a speech, unless he also paid attention to the form in which it was to be presented to his audience. He now built for himself an underground study, which remained entire down to the present day, where he daily practised himself in gesture and declamation, and exercised his voice, and where he sometimes spent two or three months at a time with half of his head shaved, so that even if he wished he could not go out of doors.
VIII. He took, however, his themes and subjects for declamation from the various topics of the day, which he learned from those who came to visit him. As soon as they left him he used to return to his study, and repeated aloud in the form of a speech all the news which he had heard, and made comments upon it. He also used to work up any conversations which he heard, into sentences and periods for his orations, and would alter, correct and paraphrase both his own remarks and those of his friends. This gave rise to the opinion that he was not really a man of ability, but that his power and skill as an orator was obtained by laborious study. A great proof of this was thought to be that Demosthenes seldom spoke on the spur of the moment, but often when he was present in the assembly and was called upon by the people to speak, he would remain silent unless he had prepared and meditated over his speech. Many of the other orators ridiculed him for this, and Pytheas in derision said that his arguments smelt of the lamp. To this Demosthenes made the bitter retort, “My lamp, Pytheas, sees very different work from yours.” In conversation with others, however, he did not altogether deny the practice, but said that although he never spoke without having made notes, yet that he often spoke without having written down everything that he was going to say. He used to say that this careful preparation of his speeches showed that he was a true lover of the people, and felt a due reverence for them; while, on the contrary, to speak without caring how the people take one’s words proves a man to be of an overbearing oligarchical disposition, who would use force rather than persuasion. Many writers allege, as a proof that Demosthenes dared not speak on the spur of the moment, that when he attacked Demades he was always immediately answered by him, but that he never so answered Demades.