Such was the memorable picture of Athens and her citizens, as exhibited by her fiercest enemy before the public assembly at Sparta. It was calculated to impress the assembly, not by appeal to recent or particular misdeeds, but by the general system of unprincipled and endless aggression which was imputed to Athens during the past, and by the certainty held out that the same system, unless put down by measures of decisive hostility, would be pushed still farther in future, to the utter ruin of Peloponnesus. And to this point did the Athenian envoy (staying in Sparta about some other negotiation and now present in the assembly) address himself in reply, after having asked and obtained permission from the magistrates. The empire of Athens was now of such standing that the younger men present had no personal knowledge of the circumstances under which it had grown up, and what was needed as information for them would be impressive as a reminder even to their seniors.
In her position, he asserted, no Grecian power either would or could have acted otherwise—no Grecian power, certainly not Sparta, would have acted with so much equity and moderation or given so little ground of complaint to her subjects. Worse they had suffered, while under Persia; worse they would suffer, if they came under Sparta, who held her own allies under the thraldom of an oligarchical party in each city; and if they hated Athens this was only because subjects always hated the present dominion, whatever that might be.
Having justified both the origin and the working of the Athenian empire, the envoy concluded by warning Sparta to consider calmly, without being hurried away by the passions and invectives of others, before she took a step from which there was no retreat, and which exposed the future to chances such as no man on either side could foresee. He called on her not to break the truce mutually sworn to, but to adjust all differences, as Athens was prepared to do, by the amicable arbitration which that truce provided. Should she begin war, the Athenians would follow her lead and resist her, calling to witness those gods under whose sanction the oaths were taken. At any time previous to the affair of Corcyra, the topics insisted upon by the Athenian would probably have been profoundly listened to at Sparta. But now the mind of the Spartans was made up. Having cleared the assembly of all “strangers,” and even all allies, they proceeded to discuss and determine the question among themselves. Most of their speakers held but one language—expatiating on the wrongs already done by Athens, and urging the necessity of instant war. There was however one voice, and that a commanding voice, raised against this conclusion: the ancient and respected king Archidamus opposed it.
The speech of Archidamus is that of a deliberate Spartan, who, setting aside both hatred to Athens and blind partiality to allies, looks at the question with a view to the interests and honour of Sparta only. He reminded them of the wealth, the population (greater than that of any other Grecian city), the naval force, the cavalry, the hoplites, the large foreign dominion of Athens—and then asked by what means they proposed to put her down. Ships, they had few; trained seamen, yet fewer; wealth, next to none. They could indeed invade and ravage Attica, by their superior numbers and land-force. But the Athenians had possessions abroad sufficient to enable them to dispense with the produce of Attica, while their great navy would retaliate the like ravages upon Peloponnesus. To suppose that one or two devastating expeditions into Attica would bring the war to an end, would be a deplorable error; such proceedings would merely enrage the Athenians, without impairing their real strength, and the war would thus be prolonged, perhaps for a whole generation. Before they determined upon war, it was absolutely necessary to provide more efficient means for carrying it on; and to multiply their allies not merely among the Greeks, but among foreigners also. While this was in process, envoys ought to be sent to Athens to remonstrate and obtain redress for the grievances of the allies. If the Athenians granted this—which they very probably would do, when they saw the preparations going forward, and when the ruin of the highly-cultivated soil of Attica was held over them in terrorem without being actually consummated—so much the better: if they refused, in the course of two or three years, war might be commenced with some hopes of success. Archidamus reminded his countrymen that their allies would hold them responsible for the good or bad issue of what was now determined; admonishing them, in the true spirit of a conservative Spartan, to cling to that cautious policy which had been ever the characteristic of the state, despising both taunts on their tardiness and panegyric on their valour.
The speech of Archidamus was not only in itself full of plain reason and good sense, but delivered altogether from the point of view of a Spartan; appealing greatly to Spartan conservative feeling and even prejudice. But in spite of all this, and in spite of the personal esteem entertained for the speaker, the tide of feeling in the opposite direction was at that moment irresistible. Sthenelaidas, one of the five ephors to whom it fell to put the question for voting, closed the debate. His few words mark at once the character of the man, the temper of the assembly, and the simplicity of speech, though without the wisdom of judgment, for which Archidamus had taken credit to his countrymen.
“I don’t understand,” he said, “these long speeches of the Athenians. They have praised themselves abundantly, but they have never rebutted what is laid to their charge—that they are guilty of wrong against our allies and against Peloponnesus. Now if in former days they were good men against the Persians, and are now evil-doers against us, they deserve double punishment as having become evil-doers instead of good. But we are the same now as we were then: we know better than to sit still while our allies are suffering wrong: we shall not adjourn our aid, while they cannot adjourn their sufferings. Others have in abundance wealth, ships, and horses—but we have good allies, whom we are not to abandon to the mercy of the Athenians: nor are we to trust our redress to arbitration and to words, when our wrongs are not confined to words. We must help them speedily and with all our strength. Nor let any one tell us that we can with honour deliberate when we are actually suffering wrong—it is rather for those who intend to do the wrong, to deliberate well beforehand. Resolve upon war then, Lacedæmonians, in a manner worthy of Sparta. Suffer not the Athenians to become greater than they are: let us not betray our allies to ruin, but march with the aid of the gods against the wrong-doers.”
With these few words, so well calculated to defeat the prudential admonitions of Archidamus, Sthenelaidas put the question for the decision of the assembly—which at Sparta was usually taken neither by show of hands, nor by deposit of balls in an urn, but by cries analogous to the ay or no of the English House of Commons—the presiding ephor declaring which of the cries predominated. On this occasion the cry for war was manifestly the stronger. Yet Sthenelaidas affected inability to determine which of the two was the louder, in order that he might have an excuse for bringing about a more impressive manifestation of sentiment and a stronger apparent majority—since a portion of the minority would probably be afraid to show their real opinions as individuals openly. He therefore directed a division—like the speaker of the English House of Commons when his decision in favour of ay or no is questioned by any member—“Such of you as think that the truce has been violated and that the Athenians are doing us wrong, go to that side; such as think the contrary, to the other side.” The assembly accordingly divided, and the majority was very great on the warlike side of the question.
The first step of the Lacedæmonians, after coming to this important decision, was to send to Delphi and inquire of the oracle whether it would be beneficial to them to undertake the war. The answer brought back (Thucydides seems hardly certain that it was really given) was—that if they did their best they would be victorious, and that the gods would help them, invoked or uninvoked. They at the same time convened a general congress of their allies to Sparta, for the purpose of submitting their recent resolution to the vote of all.
[432-431 B.C.]
If there were any speeches delivered at this congress in opposition to the war, they were not likely to be successful in a cause wherein even Archidamus had failed. After the Corinthian had concluded, the question was put to the deputies of every city, great and small indiscriminately: and the majority decided for war. This important resolution was adopted about the end of 432 B.C., or the beginning of January 431 B.C.: the previous decision of the Spartans separately, may have been taken about two months earlier, in the preceding October or November 432 B.C.