The war of the allies had exhausted Athens’ principal source of revenue, and, as frequently happens in the case of spendthrifts who are obliged to economise, the city preferred to do without necessities rather than deny itself the superfluous; the sovereign people refused absolutely to curtail its civil list. Pericles in instituting the public funds could not foresee that the day was to come when the Athenians would prefer amusement to the preservation of the nation’s safety. “Why be surprised at Philip’s success,” asks Demosthenes, “when all the sums formerly allotted to defray the cost of war are now squandered in useless festivity, a decree, furthermore, menacing with pain of death any one who undertakes to restore them to their former purpose?” He reverts frequently to this incurable propensity of Athenian dilettantism, citing the extreme punctuality with which public feast days were observed as against the tardiness of the administration in all that concerned marine matters, or war. “Tell me why your pompous feasts of Panathenæa or of Dionysia, which cost more than the armament of a fleet, are always celebrated on the day set, while your fleets, as at Methone, Pagasæ, and Potidæa, arrive too late? In the observance of your feasts all has been regulated by law; each of you knows in advance the choregus, the gymnasiarch of his tribe; he knows just what he is to receive and the exact moment when he is to receive it; nothing is uncertain, unexpected, neglected. In time of war, with all the preparations war demands, there is no order, no foresight, nothing but confusion on all sides. At the first alarm trierarchs are named, exchanges are made, subsidies are demanded. Then, to the ships are summoned first the metœci, then the freedmen, then the citizens, then—but pending all this work of preparation, that which our fleet should save has perished. All this, citizens, is doubtless very disagreeable to hear, but if in leaving out of a discourse all that offends we exclude the matter itself, what need to speak save for the mere pleasure of your ears?” And this was virtually true; the people listened to Demosthenes because he spoke well, then went to hear the orators of the opposite side, and in the enjoyment of this fine oratorical display were as royally amused as though they had visited the theatre or the Odeum.
PHILIP AND ATHENS
[351-349 B.C.]
Philip endeavoured by apparent inaction to make the Athenians forget the attack on Thermopylæ by which he justified Demosthenes’ fears. But his time was not wasted; he employed it in making partisans, even drawing around himself certain of the pillagers of the Delphic temple. He received their money in trust, thus attaching them firmly to his interests. He had established or was maintaining tyrants in the island of Eubœa, two of whom, feigning treachery to him, called the Athenians to their aid, only to betray them as soon as they had responded to this appeal; it was with difficulty that Phocion could save the Athenian army from destruction. To obtain possession of Amphipolis, Philip had caused the Olynthians to withdraw from the Athenian alliance by ceding to them Potidæa; they, however, regretted this step as soon as they saw their independence menaced. Philip accused them of having given refuge to Macedonian conspirators, and took successively several cities of the Olynthian federation, Apollonia, Stagira, Mecyberna, Torone. The Olynthians asked help of Athens, and Demosthenes, in support of their appeal, delivered three of his most celebrated discourses called the Olynthiacs. The first showed the Athenians the danger they were in, since if Philip were to become master of Olynthus he would not fail to fall upon Athens with all his forces. He then indicated the remedy: a better use of public moneys. Unable to attack the Theorica directly, he evaded the difficulty by demanding a reform in the laws governing its use.
“Be not surprised, Athenians, if I speak contrary to the opinion of the majority. Establish nomothetes, not to create new laws, but to abolish such as work you harm, and these I will designate clearly. They are the laws regulating the theatre and military service. One set sacrifices to the idlers of the town the funds set apart for war, the other assures impunity to cowards. We stood formerly without a rival, rulers at home, arbiters in foreign lands. Sparta was crushed, Thebes occupied abroad, confronting us was no power that could dispute our empire. What have we done? We have lost our provinces, and uselessly dissipated fifteen hundred talents. War restored to us our allies; in time of peace wise counsellors caused us to lose them, and our enemy has waxed great and powerful. Can any one deny that it is through us that Philip has risen? Undoubtedly you will reply, things on the outside are not favourable to us, but within, what marvels have been accomplished! Name them! Walls restored, roads repaired, fountains rebuilt, and a hundred other trifling matters. Look upon the authors of these splendid works; formerly poor, they are now rich, and in proportion to the rise in their fortunes has been the decline of the state’s. The power to pardon is in their hands, nothing is accomplished save through them; and you, Athenians, suffer everything to be taken from you, allies as well as money. Great in numbers, you are treated like menials, happy when your masters throw you your daily pittance, the price of admission to the theatre. The shame of such a condition! They give you your own, and you render thanks as though for a mercy shown you! I know well that it may cost me dear to place your disgrace so clearly before you; but dearer still will it cost those who have brought that disgrace about.”
[349-347 B.C.]
Only in a democracy could a ruler be found who would accept reproaches so severe. The Athenians knew that Demosthenes was right, but to give up the theatre—that was very hard; to reform the administration of the finances—that would take a long, long time! The most urgent need was attended to first: two armies were sent to succour the Olynthians, who were struggling bravely in their own defence. But these armies were formed of mercenaries, commanded by Chares, an indifferent general who was in the pay of every land. The presence of such troops had for effect to create disturbance among the besieged without rendering them the slightest aid. It was finally decided to send an army of citizens; but it was already too late; two traitors had delivered over the city to the enemy (347).
There was stupefaction in Athens and in all Greece when it was learned that Philip had destroyed Olynthus and sold its inhabitants. But pity was of short duration: “Each people,” says Demosthenes, “seemed to look upon as gained the time spent by Philip in destroying another.” Nevertheless the possession of Chalcidice made him master over the Ægean Sea and brought him nearer to the Thracian Chersonesus, ceded to the Athenians by the king, Cersobleptes. His fleet, already greater than that of Athens, threatened Imbros, Scyros, Lemnos, and Eubœa, made a descent on Attica, carried off the Paralian galley, and tore down the trophies at Marathon. The Athenians, tired of carrying on the struggle alone, tried to form against Philip a general alliance, but his liberality had created for him a numerous faction. Even at Athens little was spoken of but the good intentions of the king. Among those who upheld him were many who had been bought over, notably the orator Demades, possibly also Æschines; but some of the dupes were honest, among them the rhetorician Isocrates, who was dazzled by Philip’s success, and many resembling Phocion, who always looked on the dark side, preaching peace because he believed victory impossible, although he was the best general Athens possessed. “Have military greatness,” he advised the Athenians, “or make those who have it your friends.” When Demosthenes saw this man arise to reply to him, “There,” he said, “is the axe of my discourse.”
[352-346 B.C.]