"Look at this fact, gentlemen. You have fought many a war against
both democracies and oligarchies, as you well know. But the real
object of these wars perhaps none of you considers. Against
democracies you fight for private grievances which cannot be settled
in public, or for territory or boundaries or for domination. Against
oligarchies you fight for none of these things, but for your
constitution and freedom. I would not hesitate to say that I consider
it more to your advantage should become democratic and fight you than
turn oligarchic and be your friends. I am certain that it would not
be difficult for you to make peace with freeconstitutions; with
oligarchies your friendship would not even be secure, for it is
impossible that they in their lust for power could cherish kindness
for a State whose policy is based on freedom of speech."
"Even if we were to say that Rhodes richly deserves her sufferings,
this is the wrong time to gloat. Prosperous cities ought always to
show that they desire every good for the unfortunate, for the future
is dark to us all."
His conclusion is this.
"Any person who abandons the post assigned to him by his commander
you disfranchise and exclude from public life. Even so all who desert
the political tradition bequeathed you by your ancestors and turn
oligarchs you ought to banish from your Council. As it is you trust
politicians who you know for certain side with your country's enemies."
These three speeches indicate plainly enough the kind of man who was soon to make himself heard in a more important question. Instead of a frothy and excitable harangue that might have been looked for in a warm-blooded Southern orator we find a dignified and apparently cool-headed type of speech based on sound sense, full of practical proposals, fearless, manly and above all noble because it relies on righteousness. An intelligence of no mean order has in each case discarded personal feeling and has pointed out the one bed-rock fact which ought to be the foundation of a sound policy. More than this; for the first time an Attic orator has deliberately set to work to create a new type of prose, based on a cadence and rhythm. This new language at times runs away with its inventor; experience was to show him that in this matter as in all others the consummate artist hides the art whereof he is master.
By 352 Greece had become aware that her liberties were to be threatened not from the East, but from Macedonia. Trained in the Greek practice of arms and diplomacy, her king Philip within seven years had created a powerful military system. His first object was to obtain control of a seaboard. In carrying out this policy he had to reduce Amphipolis on the Strymon in Thrace, Olynthus in Chalcidice, and Athenian power centralised in Potidaea, a little south of Olynthus, and on the other side of the Gulf of Therma in Pydna and Methone. Pydna he secured in 357 by trickery; Amphipolis had passed under his control through inexcusable Athenian slackness earlier in the same year. Potidaea fell in 356 and Methone, the last Athenian stronghold, in 353. Pagasae succumbed in 352; with it Philip obtained absolute command of the sea-coast.
In the same year a Macedonian attempt to pass Thermopylae was met by vigorous Athenian action; a strong force held the defile, preventing a further advance southward. In the next year the Athenian pacifist party was desirous of dropping further resistance. This policy caused the delivery of the First Philippic. It is a stirring appeal to the country to shake off its lethargy. Nothing but personal service would enable her to recover the lost strongholds. "In my opinion," it says, "the greatest compelling power that can move men is the disgrace of their condition. Do you desire to stroll about asking one another for news? What newer news do you want than that a Macedonian is warring down Athens? Philip sick or Philip dead makes no difference to you. If he died you would soon raise up for yourselves another Philip if you continue your present policy."
With statesmanlike care Demosthenes makes concrete proposals for the creation of a standing force of citizens ready to serve in the ranks; at present their generals and captains are puppets for the pretty march-past in the public square. He estimates the cost of upkeep and shows that it is possible to maintain a force in perfect efficiency; he lays particular stress on creating a base of operations in Macedonia itself, otherwise fleets sailing north might be checked by trade winds. "Too late" is the curse of Athenian action; a vacillating policy ruins every expedition.
"Such a system was possible earlier, but now we are on the razor's
edge. In my opinion some god in utter shame at our history has
inspired Philip with his restlessness. If he had been content with
his conquests and annexations, some of you would be quite satisfied
with a position which would have branded our name with infamy and
cowardice; as it is, perhaps his unceasing aggressions and lust for
extension might spur you—unless you are utterly past redemption."
He grimly refutes all those well-informed persons who "happen to know" Philip's object—we had scores of them in our own late war.
"Why, of course he is intoxicated at the magnitude of his successes
and builds castles in the air; but I am quite sure that he will
never choose a policy such that the most hopeless fools here are
likely to know what it is, for gossipers are hopeless fools."