these had to be silenced or satisfied. There was, possibly, the fault-finder, whose caviling had to be answered; the grumbling taxpayer, to whom the necessity of the measures had to be explained; the jealous aspirant, whose ambition had to be curbed; and last, but not least, the corrupt emissary, whose plans had to be foiled.

Amid scenes so active and movements so important, great names in every department of intellectual pre-eminence shone out with great splendor; in what the Greeks did well they have never been surpassed. It is only her orators, however, with which we are now concerned. Of these there was a long and brilliant array. Most of their names, however, are forgotten, save by the classical student, with the exception of the greatest, Demosthenes. His name has become the synonym of eloquence itself. For over two thousand years it has been foremost on men's lips when speaking of oratory. It is fair to presume that his fame has a solid foundation. He was born B. C. 385, and died in exile on the Island of Calauria, B. C. 323. His early education was efficient. He attended school at Athens under eminent teachers. His parents having died, he was left in the charge of guardians, whom he had to prosecute and bring to account for mismanagement of his estate. He did so with success, conducting the proceedings himself, though only twenty years of age. Against one of his guardians he recovered a judgment for ten thousand dollars.

He devoted himself to law and politics. Eloquence was then, as now, necessary to success in these pursuits. Many stories are told of the difficulties in voice and manner that he had to overcome. The former was lisping, like our Prentiss, and the latter was ungainly, possibly like Lincoln. Like all great speakers, he was not created one full-blown, but had to carve his way to success with patience, study, and practice. He soon became engaged in lawsuits of a public and private nature, and gradually won a distinguished name. He entered the Athenian Senate at the age of thirty, and took a prominent part in its deliberations.

During the period in which he flourished, the kingdom of Macedonia, to the north of Greece, was ruled by an ambitious, crafty, and able military king named Phillip. He was the father of Alexander the Great. Phillip began to cast longing eyes toward Greece, and on one pretext or another began intermeddling in its affairs. Demosthenes soon perceived what the final result must be, the destruction of Hellenic freedom. Others did not see it as he did. Some saw what was coming, but did not possess sufficient patriotism to try to avoid the impending doom; some seemed to hasten rather than retard it. His first great political speeches were delivered against the designs of this man, Phillip. They were three in number. They were delivered with so much force, abounded in such patriotic sentiments, were inspired with so much cour

age, and pointed with such unerring aim, that from that day to this a speech which abounds in strong invective is termed a Phillipic, in recognition of Demosthenes' power. The single example has given a name to a class. No higher tribute could be paid to his genius. His counsels finally prevailed, and he undertook an expedition to Thebes and succeeded in enlisting that city with his own to send an army against Phillip and Alexander. The forces met at Chæronea, 338 B. C. The Greeks were defeated, and Grecian freedom was at an end. Notwithstanding this defeat, Demosthenes still held the confidence of the Athenians. He was selected to deliver the funeral oration on those who had been slain.

Soon after this battle one of his admirers, named Ctesiphon, proposed in the Senate that a golden crown be presented to him in the temple of Dionysius, in consideration of his distinguished services to the state. His enemies, the leader of whom was another great orator, named Eschines, retaliated by having the mover of this proposition indicted. Demosthenes was retained for the defense. The contest, as can be imagined, could not but involve his whole policy in resisting the machinations of Phillip, ending in disaster, as contrasted with that of the opponents of that policy, which might have had a different result. The trial did not take place for six or eight years after filing the indictment. His speech delivered on that occasion is known as

the Oration on the Crown. It is considered by critics as a masterpiece of eloquence. It is valuable as a linguistic performance, and as teaching a lesson too frequently lost sight of, and that is, that failure does not necessarily mean disgrace. It was upon this theory that Eschines hoped to succeed, and it is fortunate for mankind that he met an adversary who not only could surpass him in the mere power of speech, but in the higher and nobler sphere of moral excellence. So completely did Demosthenes answer his accuser, hurling back his taunts with such withering sarcasm, showing up his sophistries with such matchless skill, exposing his insincerity with so much ingenuity, that Eschines, failing to secure a one-fifth vote in favor of his bill, was banished from Athens, to which he never returned.

This speech is greatly admired. It can be appreciated only in the original Greek, and hence it is popularly but little known. We must be content to take what authorities say of it. It should not be imagined that other equally great, perhaps greater, speeches have not been made. It is enough to know that the reputation of the speaker has never waned after more than twenty centuries have passed away. It is simply, as all great speeches should be, great, elevating, ennobling thoughts expressed in clear, pure, forcible, strong language. There is no effort at humor, no straining after effect, no heaping up of ornament. He possessed the judgment to see the weak points of his adversary, the

skill to plant his batteries in commanding positions, and the fulminating power to use his missiles with destructive effect. He not only answered his antagonist, he demolished him. He did not leave him a road by which to retreat. The contest will suggest the controversy between Daniel Webster and Robert Y. Hayne. They have many points of semblance. We need not attempt here to draw any comparison, as the student, from reading the debate, can best judge for himself. We leave him to do so. All that the Webster-Hayne debate was the Grecian contest was, and something more. Demosthenes reached the climax of eloquence when, in replying to the taunts of Eschines in regard to the final failure of the efforts of the former to successfully defend Grecian liberty, he said: "If you condemn Ctesiphon, and thereby decree that I did not administer your government in the best possible manner it will appear that all your calamities are due to yourselves and not to the cruel mandate of fortune. But it is not possible, it is not possible, O men of Athens, that you were wrong in following my counsels when you risked your lives and fortunes for the sake of freedom and safety. No! by the shades of our ancestors, who first met danger at Marathon. No! by those who fought in battle array at Plataca. No! by those who braved death at the naval victory of Salamis, and at Artemisium; by the many more brave men who lie entombed in monuments erected by their grateful country, all