Euphraeus! Finely are the Eretrian commons rewarded, for having driven
away your embassadors and yielded to Clitarchus! Yes; they are slaves,
exposed to the lash and the torture. Finally he spared the Olynthians,
who appointed Lasthenes to command their horse, and expelled
Apollonides! It is folly and cowardice to cherish such hopes, and, while
you take evil counsel and shirk every duty, and even listen to those who
plead for your enemies, to think you inhabit a city of such magnitude,
that you can not suffer any serious misfortune. Yea, and it is
disgraceful to exclaim on any occurrence, when it is too late, "Who
would have expected it? However--this or that should have been done, the
other left undone." Many things could the Olynthians mention now, which,
if foreseen at the time would have prevented their destruction. Many
could the Orites mention, many the Phocians, and each of the ruined
states. But what would it avail them? As long as the vessel is safe,
whether it be great or small, the mariner, the pilot, every man in turn
should exert himself, and prevent its being overturned either by
accident or design: but when the sea hath rolled over it, their efforts
are vain. And we, likewise, O Athenians, while we are safe, with a
magnificent city, plentiful resources, lofty reputation--what [Footnote:
Smead remarks here on the adroitness of the orator, who, instead of
applying the simile of the ship to the administration of the state,
which he felt that his quick-minded hearers had already done, suddenly
interrupts himself with a question, which would naturally occur to the
audience.] must we do? Many of you, [Footnote: _You_, [Greek: _oi
kathaemenoi_]. See my observations in the preface. I can not forbear
noticing the manner in which Francis translates the following [Greek:
_nae Di ero_]. "Let Jupiter be witness, with what integrity I shall
declare my opinion." The original means nothing of the kind. It is rare
that [Greek: _nae Dia_] can be translated literally with effect.
Jacobs here has _wohlan_.] I dare say, have been longing to ask.
Well then, I will tell you; I will move a resolution: pass it, if you
please.

First, let us prepare for our own defense; provide ourselves, I mean,
with ships, money, and troops--for surely, though all other people
consented to be slaves, we at least ought to struggle for freedom. When
we have completed our own preparations and made them apparent to the
Greeks, then let us invite the rest, and send our embassadors every
where with the intelligence, to Peloponnesus, to Rhodes, to Chios, to
the king, I say; (for it concerns his interests, not to let Philip make
universal conquest;) that, if you prevail, you may have partners of your
dangers and expenses, in case of necessity, or at all events that you
may delay the operations. For, since the war is against an individual,
[Footnote: Because a state is a permanent power; a single man is liable
to a variety of accidents, and his power terminates with his life.] not
against the collected power of a state, even this may be useful; as were
the embassies last year to Peloponnesus, and the remonstrances with
which I and Polyeuctus, that excellent man, and Hegesippus, and
Clitomachus, and Lycurgus, and the other envoys went round, and arrested
Philip's progress, so that he neither attacked Ambracia nor started for
Peloponnesus. I say not, however, that you should invite the rest
without adopting measures to protect yourselves: it would be folly,
while you sacrifice your own interest, to profess a regard for that of
strangers, or to alarm others about the future, while for the present
you are unconcerned. I advise not this: I bid you send supplies to the
troops in Chersonesus, and do what else they require; prepare yourselves
and make every effort first, then summon, gather, instruct the rest of
the Greeks. That is the duty of a state possessing a dignity such as
yours. If you imagine that Chalcidians or Megarians will save Greece,
while you run away from the contest, you imagine wrong. Well for any of
those people, if they are safe themselves. This work belongs to you:
this privilege your ancestors bequeathed to you, the prize of many
perilous exertions. But if every one will sit seeking his pleasure, and
studying to be idle himself, never will he find others to do his work,