Second Olynthiac (1-5)

On many occasions, men of Athens, one may, I think, recognize the manifest favor of heaven towards our city, and not least at the present crisis. That Philip has found men willing to fight him, situated on his frontiers and possessed of considerable power, above all so determined that they regard any accommodation with him as both delusive and fatal to their own country—this has all the appearance of a super-human, a divine beneficence.

So the time has come, men of Athens, to look to it that we do not prove more unfriendly to ourselves than circumstances have been, for we shall show ourselves the meanest of mankind, if we abandon not only the cities and the places which we once called our own, but the very allies that fortune has raised up for us and the chances she throws in our way.

Now I do not choose, Athenians, to enumerate the resources of Philip and by such arguments to call on you to rise to the occasion. Do you ask why? Because it seems to me that any dissertation on that topic is a tribute to his enterprise, but a record of our failure. For the higher he has raised himself above his proper level, the more he wins the admiration of the world; but the more you have failed to improve your opportunities, the greater is the discredit that you have incurred. All this then I will waive.

For an impartial investigation, men of Athens, would trace the source of Philip’s greatness not to himself, but to this very platform. Of transactions, then, for which Philip should be grateful to those whose policy has served his interests, and for which you might well demand satisfaction, I do not find this the proper time for speaking. There are, however other topics open to me; you will be the better for having heard them, and if you will consent to scrutinize them accurately, men of Athens, you will find in them grave charges against Philip. On these topics I shall endeavor to address you.

Now to call a man perjured and faithless, without drawing attention to his acts, might justly be termed mere abuse; but to describe his conduct in detail and convict him on the whole count fortunately requires only a short speech. Moreover, I have two reasons for thinking the story worth the telling: Philip shall appear as worthless as he really is, and those who stand aghast at his apparent invincibility shall see that he has exhausted all the arts of chicanery on which his greatness was founded at the first, and that his career has now reached its extreme limit.