Orationes 31

391. First, men of Athens, great thanks to the gods, who have brought it about that those who before were emboldened and unwilling to endure so much as the name of peace, though we often invited them, have come hither, in this posture, for the sake of peace, and have given back to the city the chance to deliberate from the beginning about Greek affairs in whatever way you shall be persuaded. And it is worth using the occasion, and guarding against the senselessness and contentiousness of these men, but abiding by your own characters and ways. There is an old saying that it is not easy for the prosperous to be prudent, but that most men become worse through good fortune. But I, men of Athens, for my part suppose that all who are fortunate beyond their desert or beyond their hopes naturally suffer something of this, being unable to use affairs greater than themselves; whereas for those to whom it has fallen to have set right most of Greek affairs, and besides to have furnished to all tokens of good counsel no less than these, there remains no plea that they should suffer the same as the many and the foolish. And our deliberation is not about the future only,
392. but also about the very things we have set right. For if we choose what we ought, and these things hold securely, for the future too we shall inhabit the city in safety and good repute; but if we contend beyond measure, it is plain enough that we shall have to risk even what we already possess. So that, by however much we rejoice in these things, by so much the more is it worth foreseeing how they shall be held securely. I am not unaware, then, that all men, so to speak, accept those who minister to their desires, and think them not only well-disposed but truly the only men; while toward those who attempt to bring them to sober counsel they are ill-disposed. Nevertheless, if it were equally in one's power to be master both of words and of deeds, so as not only to say the most pleasant things but to accomplish them, one might justly be vexed with those unwilling to act so, and think them perverse; but since to pray together for the greatest things is one thing, and to advise about present circumstances another, I ask this one thing — that you set it before your minds and listen, to see whether I do not miss the reckonings that I hold concerning these matters.

I, then, consider our city the most fortunate of the Greek cities — yes, by Zeus, if you wish, I will add, of all cities — yet not as superior to human nature. And what is human nature? The gods have not apportioned affairs equally to themselves and to men, but they, being immortal and lords of all, have their good fortunes immortal too, and there is no fear that someone, becoming stronger, should take them away; and so much have they in abundance that not only do they possess all good things themselves, but they apportion them to others. And they apportion not in the manner in which they themselves possess them, but to those to whom they gave the mightiest things among men, they gave to set right the more, not all. And the greatest proof of this is these men who now invite you to peace. For when it was open to them, if they had thought fit to be moderate, both to keep these things from the beginning themselves and to dispense them to others, exalted by what they had, they make it a windfall if now they shall be able to obtain these same things from you. Let us not, then, 393. ourselves suffer the very thing for which we blame these men, nor inherit their folly rather than use our own reckonings, which we held about these matters from the beginning. For you surely know that even then, to their many embassies and those commands, this was the one answer: to settle by arbitration, and not to stir up a common war among the Greeks. Then, when these men would not accept this, you of necessity entered upon the war; but now, when these things have come into your power, how is it reasonable not to use them — the very things you would from the beginning have done, if no one had hindered anything — but that the matter should be reversed on both sides, and that those who then fled from peace should now come inviting us to it, while we, who then clung to peace, should again be seen choosing war? And indeed they could say that they have reasonably changed; but for us, that we judged rightly then, the very things that have befallen these men bear witness. So that we surely could not justly change — or it would be utterly absurd, if the Lacedaemonians have come over to our vote, abandoning what seemed good to themselves, while we shall be seen judging contrary to ourselves.

I think that some god has marshalled all this. For if from the beginning we had chosen the war voluntarily, we should perhaps have displayed some token of courage, but no one could have seen our reasonableness — at least not in the very things we chose; whereas if, when we wished to keep peace, these men were persuaded, one might justly praise our taking forethought for Greece and our not being prone to acts of aggression, but not all would have recognized the marks of courage and power — at least not in the very choosing to keep peace. But now we have displayed both in the fairest way. For to those for whom we negotiated peace, whom we tried to prevent from making war, we furnished proof of mildness and forethought for the Greeks, that they should suffer no harm; and over those against whom, being compelled, we made war and prevailed, we have gained besides a reputation for courage and power at once; so that from both it belongs to the city to be admired together with goodwill. And then, I think, this third occasion has come again, requiring good counsel, which, if we handle it as we ought, 394. we shall seem to be superior to our adversaries on every side. Let us not, then, when it is open to us to prevail in all things — both in what we have conquered and in what we chose — turn these to uncertainty. For if we keep quiet, both the successes in our deeds are secured and prudence everywhere accrues; but if we give the war occasions — the war that is wont to bring revolutions — I fear lest, seeking to make our successes greater, we cast away the glory that rests on what we already have. And I think that it does not befit men who fare as we do to be lovers of danger, but much rather those who are disposed as these men are. For the former, even if they accomplish nothing else, may from what they already have be of good repute and of the better fortune; but for those for whom keeping quiet means shame and the firm establishment of disaster, while in hazarding another danger there is hope of being freed from their present ills if they contend better, it is not unreasonable to make the attempt, reckoning that in failing they fare much as before, but in prevailing they may be wholly freed from their evils. And indeed that the future is uncertain to all men, no one is ignorant. For where neither tyranny is strong nor wealth secure, but the changes are countless, both privately and publicly — and, by Zeus, not for cities only, but for whole nations — what could anyone foresee? And it is the part of the prudent, examining matters on both sides, so to dispose themselves toward what may befall. We, then, if we conquer the Lacedaemonians and subdue the Peloponnese, shall, it seems, increase our empire; but if — which may it not happen — we should fail, we shall risk what we have. Therefore, since the good is less than the painful, it is better to be reconciled. And indeed, when it is wholly in our power to conquer, to turn to peace carries, to balance the gain of aggrandizement, the glory of having chosen what is best for the common good and of making more account of saving Greece than of destroying our adversaries; whereas not to guard against the uncertainty of what is to come is beyond all excuse.

So the choosing of peace is, with regard to both, right; whereas to have trusted the war has more 395. harm than benefit, when the two are viewed side by side. And I wonder if, having subdued the Lacedaemonians, you will then set yourselves to spare them, but, when it is open to you to spare both yourselves and them at once now, you will not dare to do so. And what will you say, men of Athens? For when you sailed round the Peloponnese, and made landings on the country, and seized this Pylos, and carried on your other operations — if anyone asked you why you did these things, it was possible to say that you were compelled, and that, though we wished to keep quiet, it did not seem good to the Lacedaemonians, but they invited us to arms and war. But now what shall we say, if anyone should ask us — seeing us either sailing or going out by land or in general doing some one of the same things? That we are compelled? But those who then provoked these things now come holding out peace. Or that you will be the losers if you accept this? But no one now bids you give up Aegina, nor depart from Potidaea, nor receive the Megarians whether you wish or not; nor is there in what is being done anything of meddlesomeness, but the ballot is sovereign, the empire over the Greeks is secure, and all things are safe — the territories and harbours and cavalry and triremes, and the deliberating about them. And those who proclaimed those august proclamations and lured the Greeks with the name of freedom — these now agree to be content if they may inhabit their own land autonomously, and those who disputed the hegemony with you have become rather its confirmers. For before they took up arms, one might perhaps have expected that they would attack; but having attempted to oppose, and then having stood off, they will have nothing to say — neither that you hold the empire unjustly, nor that they can prevent it — so that in deed they will cast their vote that you reasonably hold it, and will hand over the Greeks to you far more than when, having got rid of Pausanias and chosen you, they themselves conceded it.

And yet, if the Lacedaemonians had held this judgement toward you from the beginning, what of all things would have 396. led you into this war? Was it that you would have made light of the treaties? And who of you are better at serving the divine? Or could anyone say that nothing satisfied you? But these things the Corinthians spoke in slander, and no one in the world is conscious of them in you. Then, of the things which, had they been yours from the beginning, you would never have taken up the war — if now it is possible to have these, will you not cease, but, while saying you went to war unwillingly, will you willingly not turn to peace? For what reason? Because, by Zeus, we have prospered beyond our prayers? Why, that very thing is also best. For nothing of what we had has been lost, and the glory of having conquered has accrued, and the assurance that no one will again confidently dare to wrong us. So that, if then we were content with what we had, how is it not now fitting to be content both with those things and with what has accrued besides? But ask these men who strain beyond measure and bid us prosecute the war to the utmost: who will be your guarantor of so great a matter? For we shall not always be fighting about Sphacteria, nor will it be open to the generals to sail against things made ready, nor to lead the enemy by proclamation, but there are some things that will appear to need a struggle. And if they themselves shall say that they guarantee these things, they will be speaking the talk of madmen, not of the sane. Moreover, if the danger were to be these men's only, and not all of ours, this would be something; but since we who are persuaded shall be the first to pay the penalty, what is the gain in receiving harm later and being punished along with these men, when it is open both to us and to them to be safe together? But indeed, if not even these men would say it, yet someone could give a guarantee — how is it well for you to trust the very things which to promise these men think among the disgraceful? And the things which to say in mere word is levity, surely it is gross stupidity to set down in deed as wholly to come about. For one must choose to risk, even if the future be uncertain, then, when keeping quiet is plainly worse. As when the barbarians came against us, we had to risk. Why? Because it was slavery, if we did not 397. do this. And again, when these men commanded things that, accepted, would not have stood well. But when in keeping quiet there is glory together with safety, while in making war the danger is not only about what we have but about that very glory, why should we contend so madly, as though angry no less at ourselves than at them? For consider this too: that peace, as free from danger, all reasonable men reasonably embrace, while wars for the sake of good repute the reasonable, at least, are thought to undertake. So that about these things there might perhaps be dispute, and each might deliberate according to his own character, some choosing safety, others the better course; but now it is not possible to separate them, but, as if some god were showing you that you must accept peace, and that with it you may at once dwell in safety and pursue distinction, while to those who choose war it belongs to be no less inglorious than imperilled. And why? Because we shall seem to make the reconciliation not from fear concerning ourselves, but from humanity — and this is no small matter toward the account of virtue; whereas, clinging to the war, we shall bear the reputation of the three worst things: insatiability, cruelty, ill-counsel. For both to grasp at more than one ought, and to rejoice at the misfortunes of the Greeks, and not to know how to deliberate about affairs, are in it. And yet there could be no reproaches more contrary to the nature of the city than these. And if a stumble too should be added, what could one say?

Do not, then, await that day on which you will seem to desire peace under compulsion, but be willing, while you are masters both of warring and of keeping quiet, to grant this favour to the Greeks — if not to these men — using examples not only of the present but of earlier times. For after conquering the barbarians and seeking to advance as far as possible, having sailed to Egypt, we lost two hundred and fifty triremes in two expeditions. And indeed, that it is far easier to conquer the barbarians than the Lacedaemonians, who does not know? Which things one ought to reckon, and 398. now to suffer nothing like it, but to consider it most absurd of all things, if, having once held Nisaea and Pegae and Achaea, we voluntarily withdrew from these, considering peace worth more than the gains of war, but now, when it is open to us, without giving up any of what we have, to gain besides the reputation of prudence and of power at once, we shall be unwilling. But we once thought we ought to abandon the city and give up both temples and tombs, and to risk together with our lives and our goods, for the common salvation of the Greeks; and when it is open, in the very ceasing from danger, to save our affairs for ourselves, we shall not dare. But we think that those athletes deliberate well who stop while conquering and not under compulsion, yet we ourselves shall not act so, nor know that toward the barbarians it is perhaps fitting to advance even to the last extremity, but the contests of the Greeks against one another we should consider like the crown-games, and think victory a sufficient end, and seek nothing beyond. And if, again, one must consider that saying true also — that the war of the Greeks against one another resembles civil strife — then surely it is best to see how one may dissolve it as quickly as possible, and not to seek to extend to no end what one ought not even to have begun. And indeed, if some of the Greeks were before ill-disposed toward you from unjust suspicions, now at least all will judge you their saviours, if you free them from troubles and evils. For they will not assign their gratitude to those who begged under compulsion, but to those who, being able to deliberate both these things and those, preferred the common advantage. And I think that, if there is any trust to be put in the Lacedaemonians, all will have been resolved well for us; but if again they should attempt revolution, there is no better hold upon them. For if, when they need to be saved, they cringe, but, taking courage, attack, there is no way they will not serve as our generals. For all will at once think them base and hate them, while for us, with good words, whatever 399. they are able to do they will be eager to render in service. And I wonder if anyone fears that they will break the treaties, yet chooses to make war on purpose, and does not reckon that he is doing the opposite of what he wishes. For that they may come to act safely, one ought not to have prevented its coming about in the first place. And I think that, if anyone considers the Lacedaemonians knavish and very crafty, they will, taught by their very misfortunes, be the more pliant; for, seeing that not even their former conduct turned out well, they will be brought to their senses, if not willingly, yet unwillingly. And I, for my part, would rather, even if they stir up trouble a second time, make war then than now. For then I think the help from the gods would again be present for the city, whereas now there is nothing so great as that for the sake of which it would be fitting to contend beyond what is profitable. I, then, have said what I thought best. And I pray for one of two things: either that it seem good to you also, or that the issue may turn out with the counsel that has seemed good to you.