The Essential Isocrates 9781477325537

Citation preview

t he e ssen t ial is o c rat e s

Ashley and Peter Larkin Series in Greek and Roman Culture

t h e e s s e n t ial i s o c rat e s

jon d. mikalson

university of texas press Austin

Copyright © 2022 by the University of Texas Press All rights reserved Printed in the United States of America First edition, 2022 Requests for permission to reproduce material from this work should be sent to: Permissions University of Texas Press P.O. Box 7819 Austin, TX ­7 8713-­7 819 utpress.utexas.edu/rp‑form ∞ The paper used in this book meets the minimum requirements of ANSI/NISO Z39.48‑1992 (R1997) (Permanence of Paper). Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Names: Isocrates, author. | Mikalson, Jon D., 1943– writer of added commentary, translator. Title: The essential Isocrates / Jon D. Mikalson. Description: First edition. | Austin : University of Texas Press, 2022. | Includes ­bibliographical references and index. Identifiers: LCCN 2021047933 ISBN 978-1-4773-2552-0 (cloth) ISBN 978-1-4773-2553-7 (PDF) ISBN 978-1-4773-2554-4 (ePub) Subjects: LCSH: Isocrates—Translations. | Isocrates. | Isocrates—Ethics. | Isocrates—Philosophy. | Isocrates—Political and social views. Classification: LCC PA4217.E5 M55 2022 | DDC 885/.01—dc23/eng/20220120 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2021047933 doi:10.7560/325520

ΣΩΚΡΑΤΗΣ. Νέος ἔτι, ὦ Φαῖδρε, Ἰσοκράτης. ὃ μέντοι μαντεύομαι κατ’ αὐτοῦ, λέγειν ἐθέλω. ΦΑΙΔΡΟΣ. Τὸ ποῖον; ΣΩΚΡΑΤΗΣ. Δοκεῖ μοι ἀμείνων ἢ κατὰ τοὺς περὶ Λυσίαν εἶναι λόγους τὰ τῆς φύσεως, ἔτι τε ἤθει γεννικωτέρῳ κεκρᾶσθαι. ὥστε οὐδὲν ἂν γένοιτο θαυμαστὀν προιούσης τῆς ἡλικίας εἰ περὶ αὐτούς τε τοὺς λόγους , οἷς νῦν ἐπιχειρεῖ, πλέον ἢ παίδων διενέγκοι τῶν πώποτε ἀψαμένων λόγων, ἔτι τε εἰ αὐτῷ μὴ ὰποχρήσαι ταῦτα, ἐπὶ μείζω τις αὐτὸν ἄγοι ὁρμὴ θειοτέρα. φύσει γάρ, ὦ φίλε, ἔνεστί τις φιλοσοφία τῇ τοῦ ἀνδρὸς διανοίᾳ. Socrates. Isocrates is still a young man, Phaedrus, but I want to say what I prophesy for him. Phaedrus. What is that? Socrates. He seems to me to be better in his innate nature than the speeches associated with Lysias and also to have a more noble character. And so, it would not be surprising if, as he grows older, he should surpass in the very discourses that he now undertakes all those who have ever taken up discourses as if they were children. And if these things should not suffice for him, it would not be surprising if some more divine impulse led him to greater things because, my friend, by his innate nature there is some philosophy in the thinking of the man. Plato, Phaedrus ­278e10–­279b1

cont e nts

writings of isocrates  ix terms needing definition  xi persons perhaps not generally known but featured in isocrates’ writings  xiii chronolog y of works of isocrates and of major events mentioned by him  xv preface  xix introduction  1 1. isocrates: his life  13 2. isocrates: on himself  18 3. isocrates: on morality and religion  40 4. isocrates: on philosophy, education, rhetoric, and poetry  76 5. isocrates: on political theory  90 6. isocrates: on athenian and greek history  115

cont en t s

notes  207 selected bibliography  211 further readings  213 general index  215 index locorum of Isocratean Passages  223

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All dates are bce.

1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21.

To Demonicus (­374–­370) To Nicocles (374) Nicocles (­372–­365) Panegyricus (380) To Philip (346) Archidamus (366) Areopagiticus (357) On the Peace (355) Evagoras (­370–­365) Encomium of Helen (370) Busiris (­391–­385) Panathenaicus (339) Against the Sophists (390) Plataicus (­373–­371) Antidosis (­354–­353) On the Team of Horses (­397–­396) Trapeziticus (393) Against Callimachus (402) Aegineticus (­391–­390) Against Lochites (394) Against Euthynus (403)

letters 1. To Dionysius I (368) 2. To Philip 1 (342)

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3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9.

To Philip 2 (338) To Antipater (340) To Alexander (342) To the Children of Jason (359) To Timotheus of Heracleia Pontica (345) To the Rulers of Mytilene¯ (350) To Archidamus (356)

The dates of Isocrates’ discourses and letters are given according to Mirhady and Too, 10. The dating is not always exact, sometimes based on relationships to other works, sometimes based on the dramatic date if an absolute date cannot be determined. For brief introductions to each discourse and letter and on the dating, see Mirhady and Too 2000 and Papillon 2004. An important challenge to the usual dating is Epist. 3 (To Philip) to 346 instead of 338 BCE (Roth, ­262–­263n637). There has also been for several centuries disagreement among scholars whether the To Demonicus (1) is correctly attributed to Isocrates. I accept the attribution to Isocrates, but for the arguments against, see Mikkola, 2­ 77–­285.

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t er m s ne e di ng de f i n i t ion

antidosis: a legal procedure by which one citizen assigned an expensive state service may challenge another citizen either to take on the service or exchange all personal property with him. Dēmos: the voting citizen body of Athens, males over the age of 18, with both parents A ­ thenian ­born. It met as a group approximately forty times a year in the Ekklēsia and was represented in the nearly daily meetings of the Boulē. For Isocrates’ varying use of the term, see Bartzoka, 177. discourse: the term now commonly used to describe the various writings of Isocrates, including especially those writings that are in form orations but were not intended for public oral delivery. drachma: coinage, roughly the average daily wage of skilled workers in Athens in this period; 6,000 drachmas = one talent. eudaimonia: often translated “prosperity” or mistranslated “happiness.” It is a status of life, defined by ancient philosophers as “living well,” “faring well,” “having all the good things,” “being in need of nothing,” or “a good flow of life.” It indicates the possession of what is, in the writer’s opinion, the highest human good. See Alexiou 2010.­166–­167; and Mikalson, ­7–­8. eusebeia: “proper respect for the gods”; the term is usually imprecisely and anachronistically translated “piety.” See chapter 3 and Mikalson, 9. hosiotēs: “religious correctness”; usually and wrongly translated “holiness.” See chapter 3 and Mikalson, ­11–­12. Orations, types of: (1) Epideictic: “showpieces,” orations intended in part to display the skills of the orator; (2) Forensic: orations intended for the courtroom; and (3) Symbouleutic: orations of advice intended for legislative bodies. On these various types, see A Companion to Greek

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Rhetoric, edited by I. Worthington (Oxford, 2007), C. Carey (­236–­252), C. Cooper (­203–­219), and S. Usher (­220–­235). panēgyris: an international religious festival, usually featuring athletic or literary competitions, or both. Distinct from a heortē, a local, national festival. sophist: etymologically “a wise man,” but by Isocrates’ time associated with philosophers and teachers, especially of rhetoric. Isocrates uses the word occasionally of himself and his occupation but also occasionally in the derogative sense of an unprincipled teacher of rhetorical tricks that it had acquired by his time. sōphrosynē: etymologically “sound thinking,” in general “with a normal, properly functioning mind,” but more specific than “common sense” and often in direct opposition to “foolishness” and “lack of restraint.” Although a matter of thought and hence intellectual, it is normally applied to some kind of behavior and hence has a strong moral coloring. See chapter 3; Alexiou, ­103–­104; and Mikalson, ­12–­13. sycophant: an insulting term to characterize those who abused the Athenian court system by blackmailing innocent people and taking advantage of their speaking skills to sue on frivolous charges. On sycophants, see A.  T. Alwine, Enmity and Feuding in Classical Athens (Austin, 2015), 14 and ­111–­113. trierarchy: the service (“liturgy”) or obligation of supporting financially a trireme (a warship). tyrant: usually in the Greek and modern traditions one who has seized and holds rule unconstitutionally. But Isocrates often uses the terms “king,” “tyrant,” and “dynast” interchangeably, without any negative connotation in “tyrant.” To avoid adding inappropriate connotations, I translate τύραννος and δυναστής as “monarch,” and βασιλεύς as “king,” but τύραννος as “tyrant” in those passages where Isocrates is giving the customary title to someone, as to Dionysius, tyrant of Sicily, or is obviously describing what is commonly considered tyrannical behavior, as for Pisistratus or the Thirty Tyrants. On all this, see Alexiou, 113; and Liou, ­211–­217. xenos: a friend who lives in another country, often serving as host in his country and as guest in his friend’s country. Xenia is the relationship of being xenoi. xii

p ersons p e r hap s not g e n e ral ly k now n b ut f e at ur e d i n i so c rat e s’ w r i t i ng s

Archidamus: one of the kings of Sparta from 360 to 338 BCE, son of Agesilaus. Isocrates has him as the speaker, while still a young man, of the Archidamus (6), of 366 BCE, and then writes to him as king (Epist. 9) in 356 BCE. Areopagus Council: the group of former archons in Athens, probably numbering about 140, who under Solon had wide judicial and legislative authority and were termed “the guardian of the laws” but whose range of authority was diminished first by Cleisthenes’ Ekklēsia and then over the years by other democratic measures. By Isocrates’ time its role was largely limited to investigating religious crimes and some cases of homicide, assault, and arson. Artaxerxes II and Artaxerxes III: successive kings of Persia, with ­Artaxerxes II ruling from 404 to 359 BCE and Artaxerxes III, from 358 to 338 BCE. Busiris: a mythical king of Egypt, in Greek art and literature an archetypal villain who sacrificed all foreigners who landed there. He was killed by Heracles, one of his intended victims. Demonicus: a young Cyprian known only from Isocrates’ To Demonicus (1). His father, Hipponicus, had been a friend of Isocrates. Evagoras: the strongly ­pro-­Hellenic and ­pro-­Athenian king of Cyprian Salamis from 411 to 374  BCE. He gave refuge to the Athenian general Conon after Athens’s defeat at Aegospotamoi in 405 BCE, and with Conon defeated the Spartan navy in the battle of Cnidus in 394 BCE. In 391 he invaded Persian territories with some success until his defeat at Citium in 382 BCE. After his assassination in 374 BCE, he was succeeded by his son, Nicocles.

persons in iso c rat e s’ w r it ings

Four Hundred: in the first oligarchic revolution in Athens, in 411 BCE, the four hundred Athenian citizens designated as the ruling body. Opposed by a prodemocratic Athenian fleet stationed in Samos and defeated in a sea battle against the Peloponnesians, they were deposed by the Athenians in 410 BCE, and the democracy was restored. Lysander: the Spartan general who defeated the Athenians at Aegospotamoi in 405 BCE and the next year occupied Athens. He installed the Thirty Tyrants and published a list of Athenians to be excluded from the citizen rolls. Nicocles: King of Cyprian Salamis, succeeding his father, Evagoras, from 374 to about 361 BCE. He is known primarily from Isocrates’ Nicocles and To Nicocles, but in contrast to the laudatory descriptions there, two contemporary historians, Theopompus of Chios and Anaximenes of Lampsacus, described him as hedonistic and licentious and as having suffered a violent death. Thirty Tyrants: the thirty Athenian oligarchs installed to govern Athens by the Spartans in 404 BCE after their defeat and occupation of Athens at the end of the Peloponnesian War. After various assassinations, exilings, and confiscations of the property of their opponents, they were defeated in battle at Piraeus, in 403 BCE, and the democracy was restored. They were not included in the general amnesty of reconciliation that followed, and their fate is not well known. Some probably died in the battle at Piraeus; some had their property confiscated; some went into exile, and some were executed. Timotheus of Athens: a former student of Isocrates. As an Athenian general he had great success in the 370s and 360s in building the Athenian Confederacy and then in the early 350s in the Social War of Athens against its former allies. After the Athenian defeat in the Battle of Embata in 356  BCE, he was convicted of treason by the Athenians, heavily fined, and went into exile. For Isocrates he was a model general. Timotheus of Heracleia Pontica: tyrant of Heracleia Pontica from 346 to 338 BCE. After a period of regency, he succeeded his father, Clearchus, who had been a student of Isocrates.

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All dates are bce. ? Athenian Autochthony Age of Kings in Athens ?–­1600 ca. 1600 Theseus as last king of Athens ca. ­1600–­594 Aristocracy in Athens Trojan War ? ca. 766 Dorian Invasion and Takeover of Peloponnese 594 Lawgiving of Solon and Creation of Athenian Democracy 561/­560–­556, ­546–­528/527 Tyranny of Pisistratus Tyranny of Hippias, Pisistratus’s son 528/­527–­510 508 Lawgiving of Cleisthenes and Restoration of Athenian Democracy ­490–­479 Persian Wars 490 Battle of Marathon 480 Battles of Thermopylae and Salamis 479 Battle of Plataea 478 Foundation of Delian League ­478–­404 Athenian Empire ­459–­454 Athenian Expedition to Egypt ­451–­449 Athenian Expedition to Cyprus ­443–­429 Pericles as General and Leader in Athens 436 Birth of Isocrates ­431–­404 Peloponnesian War 421 Athenian Destruction of Scionē ­416–­415 Athenian Destruction of Melos ­415–­413 Athenian Expedition to Sicily

c hr onol o g y of wor ks and major e v ent s

4­ 13–­404 ­411–­410 410 405 404 ­404–­403 403 402 ­401–­400 399 ­397–­396 ­395–­386 394 393 ­391–­390 ­391–­385 390 386 380 ­377–­338 ­374–­370 374 373 ­373–­371 ­372–­365 371 370 ­370–­365 368 366 362 359 ­357–­355 357 356 355 ­354–­353

Decelean War Rule of Four Hundred in Athens Democracy restored in Athens Battle of Aegospotamoi Athens surrenders to Sparta Rule of Thirty Tyrants in Athens Democracy restored in Athens Against Euthynus (21) Against Callimachus (18) Expedition of Six Thousand and Battle of Cunaxa Trial and Execution of Socrates On the Team of Horses (16) Corinthian War Battle of Cnidus Against Lochites (20) Trapeziticus (17) Aegineticus (19) Busiris (11) Against the Sophists (13) The King’s Peace Panegyricus (4) Second Athenian Confederacy To Demonicus (1) To Nicocles (2) Thebes destroys Plataea Plataicus (14) Nicocles (3) Battle of Leuctra Encomium of Helen (10) Evagoras (9) Letter to Dionysius I (Epist. 1) Archidamus (6) Battle of Mantinea Philip becomes king of Macedonia Letter to the Children of Jason (Epist. 6) Athenian social war against former allies Areopagiticus (7) Letter to Archidamus On the Peace (8) Antidosis (15) xvi

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350 346 345 342 340 339 338

Letter to the Rulers of Mytilenē (Epist. 8) To Philip (5) Peace of Philocrates Letter to Timotheus of Heracleia Pontica (Epist. 7) Letter to Philip (Epist. 2) Letter to Alexander (Epist. 5) Letter to Antipater (Epist. 4) Panathenaicus (12) Battle of Chaeronea Letter to Philip (Epist. 3) Death of Isocrates

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M

y previous scholarly work has focused on Greek religion, primarily that of Athenians in the Classical and Hellenistic periods, with an underlying emphasis on the interaction of that religious system with contemporary moral, ethical, political, philosophical, and historical ideas. I turned some years ago to Isocrates because he in a very personal way involved himself in all these areas, and I hoped to learn more about Greek religion from him. I did that, but I also encountered so much more of interest that was not ­readily accessible even to most classicists because of the nature and volume of Isocrates’ writings and the current state of scholarship on him. I set myself to translating and, more important, dividing and organizing Isocrates’ writings by topics, by the topics indicated in the chapter titles and subsections that follow. I wanted readers to be able to find easily what Isocrates has to say on topics of interest to them. The passages of Isocrates I offer constitute only a fraction, but a representative one, of the orator’s oeuvre, which covers nearly six hundred pages in the n ­ ow-­definitive English translations of his complete works by Mirhady and Too; and by Papillon. Isocrates, though not an orator himself, was writing mostly in the Greek oratorical tradition, with epideictic (showpiece), forensic (for the courtroom), and symbouleutic (for legislative bodies) orations. An e­ xcellent introduction to all this is A Companion to Greek Rhetoric, edited by I. Worthington (Oxford, 2007). The history of the period in which Isocrates lived is exceptionally complex and hard to follow. For a detailed, largely chronological survey I recommend S. Hornblower, The Greek World: 4­ 79–­323 BC, fourth edition (London, 2011). I found it particularly helpful to have this history broken down city by city: for Athens, see C. Schwenk, 8­ –­40; for Sparta, C. D. Hamilton, ­41–­65; and for Thebes, M. Munn, ­66–­106, all in The Greek World in the Fourth Century, edited by L. A. Tritle (London, 1997). Here

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I express my gratitude to my colleague Elizabeth Meyer who reviewed for me chapter 6 on Isocrates’ views of Greek history and saved me from several grievous errors. I am also indebted to Michael Gagarin and Terry Papillon and to Jim Burr of the University of Texas Press for their interest in Isocrates and in this book.

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F

rom at least 380 BCE in a ­discourse intended for a Panhellenic audience, and later throughout his long life, Isocrates argued in discourses and letters to his fellow Athenians and to various rulers that the Greek cities should stop making s­elf-­destructive wars against one another and should unite and turn their energies and resources against their common historical foe, the king of Persia. They should recapture the Greek lands in Asia Minor from him, should settle there the Greeks who had been impoverished, displaced by the constant warfare, and forced into a mercenary career, and should give them cities and a livelihood. All Greek cities should be freed from domination by either other Greek states or n ­ on-­Greeks and should be free and independent. At home the Athenians should practice sound thinking and justice, both toward one another and toward other Greeks. The idle and dissolute youth should be given training in the traditional virtues and in philosophy. Athens should be ashamed that some of its citizens were reduced to begging, and well‑to‑do Athens should provide jobs and training programs for impoverished Athenians. The Athenians should stamp out the sycophants who, merely for personal gain, prosecute and make life miserable for ­law-­abiding Athenians. And Athenians should by their actions work to restore the good reputation their ancestors once had among all Greeks. I offer here a portrait of the man who held such views, just one Athenian, largely through his own words. Isocrates was not a soldier, general, or politician. He did not lead armies or give orations before his fellow citizens. He was a rhetorician but did not have the voice or courage to speak before a crowd. He offered his advice on the most important Athenian and Greek issues of his time, in written discourses of various types, in extensive (and often published) essays and letters to his fellow Athenians and to leaders throughout the Greek world. And he was a philosopher,

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not in the model of Plato and Aristotle, but, for his time, sui generis, attempting to mix theory with experience, always toward practical personal, social, and political ends. And he was an important teacher: among his dozens of students were some of the most influential Athenians, kings, and princes of the Greek world. I give here a rather full account of Isocrates’ own views of contemporary and earlier Athenian and Greek history, of Athenian political and social life, of his own philosophy and teaching, and, perhaps most important, of himself. He is in his writings the most s­ elf-­reflective of the Greeks of the Classical Period, and these ­self-­reflections offer an unparalleled look into the thought, work, and life of one Athenian. We can see him reacting to the major political, social, and personal events of his long life. We can actually come to know one Athenian, or at least how one Athenian pre­ sents himself, always remembering, of course, that he was not, in his class, in his education, in his occupation, in his influence, and even in many of his views an average Athenian. But average Athenians, even outstanding Athenians, have left little in their own words by which we can know them. For Isocrates we have a lot. Through his voluminous writings Isocrates also offers us another way, personal and subjective, to look at the political, military, and social history of his and previous times. We are, of course, all enormously indebted to the ancient and modern historians who have attempted to sort out the facts of this history and to explain them. What Isocrates offers is what one man, an educated, worldly, and thoughtful man, believed about the events and trends of his own time and those of the near and f­ar-­distant past. And from what he writes, one can often glean what his contemporaries, often disagreeing with him, also believed. The current political situation in the world and my work on ancient Greek religion have convinced me that the large majority of people, ancient and modern, base their actions primarily on their beliefs, not on a careful, reasoned examination of the facts, and that has perhaps not been sufficiently integrated into modern historiography. In Isocrates we see expressed many of these beliefs of the middle forty years of the fourth century bce. Isocrates also put events of his and earlier times into personal, moral, national, and international contexts and adds, as it were, some flesh and blood to the skeleton of historical facts we find in history books. Isocrates may not always get his facts right, but he knew what he, his fellow Athenians, and his fellow Greeks believed and was trying to affect those beliefs, and so he is a valuable source for his time. He is surely our single richest informant for the views, thoughts, and aspirations of the majority of Athenians 2

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and Greeks in the ­mid-­fourth century bce, the end of the Classical Period. I intend not to judge Isocrates but simply to present him and his thought. By very modern standards and prejudices some readers will find faults. He no doubt had slaves. He scarcely mentions women except Helen of Troy. He is strongly nationalistic, in terms both of Athens and of Greece. He invokes and promotes stereotypes of Persians and other ­non-­Greeks. He consorted with kings and princes and seemingly favors a good ­monarchy over democracy. He is conservative, nostalgic for the government, society, and morals of a time long past. He prefers a practical philosophy to the abstract, theoretical study that attracts modern philosophers to the Greeks.1 He is not perfectly consistent, as we seem to expect our ancient authors to be, in his views and statements over a ­sixty-­five-­year career as a writer. He reshapes his arguments and rhetoric to suit different audiences and different times. He uses history for rhetorical purposes and is sometimes mistaken or careless or manipulative with the facts.2 Such faults are, of course, not unique to Isocrates or to his time. They are commonly featured in our newspapers and television news stories today. Isocrates can be a rich source from antiquity for those trying to understand and not just condemn them. They are part of the complex personality of one quite remarkable and influential man and the products of his life, thought, and time in f­ourth-­century bce Athens. And so I present Isocrates, warts and all. This account of Isocrates is presented primarily through Isocrates’ own words or, less commonly, in paraphrases or summaries of them. These are his views and thoughts about himself, his values, his occupation as a teacher, his time, and Athenian and Greek history as he himself, over a long life, expressed them, unencumbered, if that is the correct word, by corrections and criticisms of modern scholars. Conflicting views of Isocrates’ contemporaries on morality, philosophy, education, politics, and international affairs do appear regularly but only as Isocrates presents them. Some of the passages I attribute to Isocrates are drawn from writings that Isocrates presents in the guise of works written by others, ­Nicocles (3), Archidamus (6), and Plataicus (14). Some are from orations he wrote for participants in courtroom trials (­16–­21). I found that the statements in these writings are so consistent with works written in his own 3

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name that I have not marked them individually or treated them separately. They all, I argue, reflect Isocrates’ own views, but readers who doubt this need pay attention only to which writing is cited for each statement. My intent is not to analyze, interpret, praise, criticize, or correct Isocrates but rather to present him and his thought as much as possible in his own words, to let him speak for himself. I hope to make the great range and volume of his writings more accessible and intelligible to readers by ­collecting and organizing his thoughts on individual topics such as justice, education, or the Persian Wars, thoughts and comments that are widely scattered amid his numerous writings. Those seeking corrections to, especially, his view of historical events or wanting parallels to his ethical comments from other ancient sources can most efficiently find them in the modern commentaries on his discourses. And I suggest in “Selected Bibliography” some representative books and articles that do analyze and synthesize various elements of his thought and offer abundant bibliography. But what I present here is Isocrates himself on himself and his own world and time. For general orientation I open with the Life of Isocrates (chapter 1), a biography drawn from various sources and falsely attributed to Plutarch. It contains a wealth of biographical fact and fiction. Chapter 2 offers Isocrates’ own account of his own life, his personal morality, his wealth, his own writings, his students, his old age, and his reputation. Chapters ­3–­5 ­collect Isocrates’ general comments on morality and religion (3), philosophy, education, and poetry (4), and political theory (5). In chapter 6 I pre­ sent chronologically Isocrates’ versions of Greek and particularly Athenian history, beginning with the earliest days of the Athenians and continuing down to his own final days in 338 BCE. Included here is also his description of Athenian government, morals, practices, and foreign policy as he saw them change from period to period. In this chapter we can see the application of the general principles Isocrates lays out in chapters 3­ –­5 to the times, events, and famous individuals of Greek and Athenian history as Isocrates envisaged them. I have attempted always to represent the views and thoughts of Isocrates, but different topics required different forms of representation. I use direct quotations when possible and appropriate, especially in chapters 3, 4, 5, and 6. Occasionally there but especially in chapters 2 and 6 4

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direct quotations are interspersed amid summaries of Isocrates’ views. In short, I have structured each chapter, even each section in any chapter, in the manner that I think best reflects Isocrates’ thinking. The translations are my own, but I have profited greatly from the translations of Isocrates’ works by George Norlin, La Rue van Hook, David Mirhady and Yun Lee Too, and Terry Papillon and have borrowed from them the occasional phrase. Isocrates was famous in his own and later times for his ornate prose style and ability to create ­page-­long sentences that were architectural marvels of finite verbs, participles, and dependent and relative clauses. Most such sentences I have simplified for the modern reader, but I have left a few here and there to give a taste of the Isocratean style. In my translations I use a few somewhat technical terms and also some transliterations of complex Greek terms that cannot be rendered into simple English; these may be found above in “Terms Needing Definition.” The assignment of the quotations of Isocrates to one or another of chapters 2 to 6 and even to sections within these chapters was not easy and is not tidy. In one passage Isocrates may be discussing a matter of both morality and political theory, or of philosophy and history. In some cases a passage from an earlier chapter seemed so important that I repeated it in a later one, sacrificing economy to avoid the often neglected ­cross-­reference. The result of this organization is that not everything that Isocrates writes about a specific t­ opic—​­for example, ­justice—​­will be found in one place or one section or one chapter. If one wants to collect all the relevant passages on such a topic and see it in personal, general, and historical contexts, one will have to turn to the general index, or, of course, look to books and articles that treat such specific topics in Isocrates. This book is intended to reflect the scope and range of the life and thought of our orator, largely in his own words, not to analyze his treatment of specific topics or themes.

recurrent themes in isocrates As a general orientation I offer some major themes that recur in the numerous and varied writings of Isocrates that follow.

Isocrates as a Teacher Isocrates realized quite early on that he had neither the voice nor the courage to function as a public orator, a profession in itself, in front of the 5

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large political assemblies of Athens. From about 393  BCE, when he was ­forty-­three years old, he made his living as a teacher: a teacher of rhetoric, the art of public speaking. He specialized in teaching how to write effective speeches on political matters. He taught a style of writing and how to write persuasive speech on serious topics, in contrast, in his view, to other professional teachers of rhetoric of the time who taught clever argumentation and the tricks of courtroom oratory. The course of study under him was as long as four years, and in that time Isocrates met with small groups of students and apparently analyzed and had them memorize mostly his own written speeches for purposes of imitation and study. His students, mostly from abroad, wealthy, of elite family and educational backgrounds, probably in their late teens or early twenties, paid well, usually a thousand drachmas (roughly $100,000 by modern standards) for the full course of study. Isocrates had, probably, no more than four or five students at any one time, but eventually his past students numbered about a hundred. Despite his own claims, Isocrates probably became quite a rich man from his teaching. Some of his students became leaders in their own countries, some became prominent in Athenian civic affairs, and some just remained private citizens but, as Isocrates puts it, “more cultivated in conversations and keener advisers and judges of arguments than most people.” Some of his students remained close to him long after their formal studies, and we find Isocrates corresponding with them and even consulting them to the very end of his life.

Isocrates as a Philosopher Isocrates considered himself a philosopher and writes often of the value of philosophy, but his philosophy was significantly different from that of his contemporary Plato and from what moderns, in descent from Plato, consider it to be. Plato wrote regularly against rhetoric and its teachers as clever at argumentation but not seeking truth or promoting virtue, as being willing and able to argue for both or any sides of questions. Plato sought ways to attain or, more realistically, approach absolute truths and to use one form of argumentation, dialectic, the Socratic method, to isolate and understand the virtues, such as justice and bravery. Isocrates, by contrast, rejected the search after absolutes and absolute knowledge and instead wanted to develop through his philosophy correct opinions based on a practical education, common sense, and experience. He promoted a practical moral system based on good thinking, not on P ­ latonic-­style wisdom. For Plato philosophy was a lifelong pursuit of increasingly abstract 6

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study. For Isocrates philosophy was preparation for success in matters of everyday life and of the political arena. Modern scholars see a competition between Plato and Isocrates to define what philosophy should be and what should be studied. There are no explicit by‑name criticisms of one by the other, but Plato’s criticisms of rhetoric and Isocrates’ occasional attacks on those who pursue useless abstract subjects are taken to be signs of this quite gentlemanly competition by two leading intellectuals who are working in the same town and with much the same pool of potential students.

The Importance of a Good Reputation Aligned with his philosophical preference for correct opinion over abstract perfect knowledge is Isocrates’ deep concern for a good reputation. Throughout his published discourses, the political ones from Panegyricus (4), of 380 BCE, to Panathenaicus (12) at the end of his life, the moral ones of Demonicus (1) and Nicocles (2 and 3), of the 370s, Isocrates stressed the importance and value of a good reputation, the reputation of individuals, of his students, of Athens in the Greek world, of the Greeks vis‑à‑vis the Persians, and, above all, of himself. All should strive after a good reputation, respect, especially as earned from good deeds and moral and just behavior, especially among those capable of reasonably judging such matters: that is, among serious people. Unlike wealth, one’s reputation will live on long after his death. This concern for reputation permeates his writings, but concern for his own reputation is most fully expressed in Antidosis (15), of 3­ 54–­353 BCE, and then taken up again at length in his last public discourse, Panathenaicus (12), of 339 BCE, when he was ­ninety-­eight years old. There he proudly claims that “I was not one of the scorned or neglected people, but one of those whom the most cultivated Greeks would mention and talk about as being ‘serious.’ ”

Isocrates on Athenian Politics and Foreign Affairs Isocrates explicitly addresses his fellow Athenians in his writings only ­beginning in the ­mid-­350s  BCE, when he was in his ­mid-­eighties. The Confederacy established by the Athenians in 377 BCE against the Spartans was now endangered by the revolt of and resulting war against some of these confederates (­357–­355 BCE). In On the Peace (8), of 355 BCE, Isocrates argues against war and against Athenian inclinations to reestablish the kind of imperial rule over Greek cities that they had had during their empire, in the second half of the fifth century. He writes that Athenians 7

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should base their foreign policy on benefactions and justice, not on force, and that they should restore the good reputation they had immediately following the Greek victories in the Persian Wars in 479 BCE. For Isocrates Athenian success in the Persian Wars was owed in good part to the better government and leaders they had then, and with Areopagiticus (7), of 357 BCE, he begins a lifelong argument that the Athenians should restore that government, the form of democracy established by Solon (594 BCE) and Cleisthenes (508 BCE). To that good democracy he compares at great length the evils of the present political and moral situation: ­self-­serving politicians and orators, moral laxness and corruption of the young, abuse of the courts by malicious prosecutors (sycophants) seeking only profits, heavy tax burdens on the wealthy, and in the Greek world a hatred of the Athenians for their maltreatment of allies. But Isocrates in all this usually does not merely criticize and complain. He offers specific proposals for reform of contemporary foreign policy, of the democratic constitution, and of the legal, social, and educational systems. Behind virtually all Isocrates’ praises of the past lie his complaints about the present in Athens, whether they be in Areopagiticus (7), of 357  BCE, or Panathenaicus (12), of 339 BCE, or elsewhere in his writings. Much the same can be said of his praises of other countries, as of Cyprian Salamis in Evagoras (9) or of Egypt in Busiris (11).

Isocrates on Greek Foreign Affairs From his earliest to his latest political writing, Isocrates passionately promoted the idea that the Greek cities put aside their quarrels and wars, unify in an expedition against the king of Persia, and recover for the Greeks the P ­ ersian-­held lands in Asia Minor. In his first surviving and most important political discourse, Panegyricus (4), of 380 BCE, he argued for a Panhellenic audience that the Greeks should settle their differences and civil wars, should make such an expedition, and that it should be led by the Athenians (and not the Spartans). As political circumstances changed, Isocrates held the same vision but looked to different leaders: in 368 BCE to Dionysius the tyrant of Sicily, in 356 BCE to Archidamus, a Spartan king, and, finally, from 346 BCE on, to Philip the king of Macedon. His last writing, a letter to Philip in 338 BCE, reiterates this request. Integral to this grand plan of Isocrates are his conception of the Greeks’ innate, military, and cultural superiority over the Persians, his loathing of the thought that Greeks could be slaves to the Persians, his horror at the Spartan handover of the Greek cities of Asia Minor to the Persians in 8

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386 BCE, his desire to restore the Greek and Athenian glory of the Persian Wars, and especially his sympathy for the Greeks displaced by wars and the Persians in Asia Minor and forced to live as refugees and often to make their living as mercenaries. Also integral to his view of Greek affairs is Isocrates’ persistent and consistent promotion of his own city, as opposed to the Spartans, as the leader (hēgemōn) of the Greeks, initially in Panegyricus (4), of 380 BCE, as the military leader of the expedition against Persia, but later in political, moral, and cultural terms.

on how to read isocrates Isocrates wrote not just letters and moral essays and courtroom speeches for others but also “discourses,” a vague but convenient term to cover compositions that have the form of public speeches but were never intended to be delivered orally in a public forum. Most have as their putative audience the Athenians; one is imagined for a Panhellenic audience; one is presented as sent to King Philip of Macedon, and three have as putative speaker not Isocrates but a foreigner. From internal evidence each can be given a dramatic date. Interesting questions, most of which cannot be definitively answered, arise. For whom was Isocrates writing? Was he writing, as he purports to be, to influence Athenian and Greek public opinion and policy, with the expectation that his writings or at least his ideas would become widely known? Was he writing only for an elite group, nationally and internationally, who would appreciate his ideas, his rhetorical skill, and his ornate style? Or was he writing these discourses only as pedagogical models to be studied by his students? Different scholars have supported each of these possibilities. We know, at the least, that his discourses were known in contemporary philosophical circles, being read and used by Plato and Aristotle. They were also used for their instructional purposes by fellow teachers of rhetoric in the period. But were they known to the Athenians of the time who actually made policy and voted on issues of domestic affairs and foreign relations? Isocrates certainly writes as though they were or would be, and he has much to say of unnamed people who criticize his writings and ideas. I am inclined to think that most of those ­politics- and ­oratory-­loving Athenians would have known of Isocrates and his school and, though they may not have read or heard his discourses themselves, knew in at least a general way his ideas and policies. But there is no sure evidence that Athenian public policy was ever directly influenced by his discourses. 9

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As a writer with a keen sense of his presumed audience and of his time, as a skilled rhetorician and teacher, Isocrates does occasionally in a writing career of over sixty years shape his facts or arguments to his immediate purpose, to his audience, and to the times, sometimes inconsistently, sometimes in quite contradictory ways. One year in one format, for example, he severely criticizes the Spartans; another year in another format, he praises them. Modern academicians seem to expect absolute consistency and historical accuracy in their ancient authors and search out and highlight wrongs in this regard. But the expectation of absolute consistency and historical accuracy is unrealistic for an author whose purpose was to make persuasive arguments to different audiences and at different times in a volatile political environment. There has been greater profit from studies that attempt to explain the inconsistencies and the distortion of the historical record from considerations of the differing purposes, audiences, and historical circumstances of each discourse. Isocrates in his writings is the most autobiographical of the prose writers of his or prior times, and there has been considerable recent interest in how Isocrates creates and shapes the persona he projects in his writings. The same concern arises, of course, for all authors who offer b ­ iographical and personal details about themselves in their writings. For Isocrates the question arises whether the Isocrates we imagine from his writings is somehow different from the real Isocrates, but here the p ­ roblem is that we have little with which to judge the real Isocrates apart from his own writings and the various “Lives of Isocrates,” which are themselves heavily based on his writings. Were his repeated claims that a weak voice and lack of confidence before a crowd made active participation in politics impossible for him sincere, or are they sly allusions to the political stance of a quiet Athenian group who avoided active participation in politics? Were his comments on his sickness and old age just rhetorical devices to win sympathy, or were they genuine, personal concerns of a ­ninety-­seven-­year-­old man? My impression is that what we do know of Isocrates’ life and actions is in remarkable accord with what he writes, and I think we can come to know him better than any other Classical Greek author, or at least know him as he thought he really was, through these writings. A rhetorician, yes; but not a poseur. One must also deal with questions of whether certain of the writings attributed to Isocrates in antiquity were really his or were written later by those imitating his style and thought. Modern scholarship has focused on Demonicus (1) and on the letters. Critics question Demonicus because of ­elements of style, diction, and occasionally thought that are unparalleled 10

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in unquestionably Isocratean works.3 I view the discourse as a series of maxims that Isocrates has mostly collected and rewritten from other sources, and if so, this process, at an early stage of his writing career, could explain the occasional variations from his usual style and, perhaps, from his usual moral stances. I therefore include Demonicus in this collection of his writings, but the reader should be aware of the controversy and is free to disregard those selections and references. Arguments have also been made for and against the genuineness of the letters, but even critics acknowledge that their content is appropriate to the historical circumstances they describe and reflect Isocrates’ own persistent concerns and style. I think them genuine and therefore include them. All these questions have recently been exhaustively treated by Thomas Blank in Logos und Praxis (Berlin, 2014), especially 3­ –­74, sometimes with conclusions quite different from mine.

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socrates lived a remarkably long (­ninety-­eight years) and rich life, and I offer here what he and other ancient sources have written of it. I open with a translation of the Life of Isocrates falsely attributed to Plutarch and dated to the first half of the third century CE.1 It is hardly a perfect source. It is disorderly, at times ­self-­contradictory, repetitive, and inaccurate, but it is the source, apart from his own writings, for much of what we think we know of the life of Isocrates. It has, in its own way, much of value, apart from the factual data. The anecdotes, however genuine, are captivating, Isocrates’ links to orators and intellectuals of the time are illuminating, and precious details about Isocrates’ family, burial plot, and dedications enrich our picture of Isocrates and of the customs of the time. Therefore I have chosen to include the whole, pointing out in footnotes where modern scholars are in disagreement with its author. Several others besides p ­ seudo-­Plutarch wrote lives or accounts of Isocrates, and these include Dionysius of Halicarnassus (I BCE–­I CE), Hermippus of Smyrna (III bce), Caecilius of Caleactē, in Sicily (I bce), and Photius, the patriarch of Constantinople (IX ce). Joseph Roisman and Ian Worthington have brought all the information provided by these authors and by Isocrates himself to bear on the Life by ­pseudo-­Plutarch in their Lives of the Attic Orators (Oxford, 2015), and I offer in the footnotes in brief form some of their important additions and corrections. That book includes also an excellent translation of the Life by Robin Waterfield, but I have used my own to preserve consistency of terminology throughout this book.

­p seudo-­p lutarch, lives of the ten orators, ­8 36e1–­8 39d1 Isocrates was the son of Theodorus of the deme Erchia, one of the ­moderate citizens.2 Theodorus owned slaves who made musical wind

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instruments and made a good living from them. And so he served as a trierarch and was able to educate his sons. His other sons were Telesippus and Diomnestus, and there was a little daughter, too.3 Theodorus was mocked by Aristophanes and Strattis for his musical instruments.4 Isocrates was born in the e­ ighty-­sixth Olympiad, in the year when Lysimachus of Myrrhinous was archon [436/435 BCE]. He was ­twenty-­two years younger than Lysias,5 seven years older than Plato. As a child he was educated as well as any Athenian and heard lectures by Prodicus of Keos, Gorgias of Leontini, Tisias of Syracuse, and the orator Theramenes.6 When Theramenes was being arrested by the Thirty and had fled to the altar Altar of Hestia in the Bouleutērion, all were astonished, but Isocrates alone stood up to help him. At first Isocrates stood there in silence for a time, but then Theramenes asked him to stop. He said it would be more painful for him if any one of his friends should share in his misfortune.7 They say that some rhetorical handbooks of Theramenes helped Isocrates when he was being prosecuted by sycophants in the courts. They were inscribed “The Rhetorical Handbooks of Boton.” When Isocrates reached manhood, he stayed away from political matters. He had a weak voice, a cautious manner, and had lost his ancestral property in the war against the Lacedaemonians.8 Evidently he did not even join others’ lawsuits or serve as a witness, and he gave only one speech, that on the antidosis.9 Isocrates founded a school and turned to philosophy and writing, and wrote Panegyricus (4) and some other symbouleutic speeches. Some of these he wrote and used to read aloud, but others he was preparing for other people. He believed that in this way he would lead the Greeks to think what they ought to. But, having failed in this plan, he gave it up and became the head of a school, first on Chios.10 There he had nine students. And one day when he saw his pay being counted out, he said, tearfully, “I realized that now I have sold myself to these students.” He also talked with those who were willing to talk with him, and first distinguished eristic discourses from political ones, the ones about which he was serious. And around Chios he established the administrative offices and the same constitution as his homeland’s.11 He made more money than any of the sophists and as a result served as a trierarch. He had about a hundred students, including, among many others, Timotheus the son of Conon.12 He traveled to many cities with him and used to compose the letters which Timotheus sent to the Athenians. For this Timotheus gave him six thousand drachmas from his surplus funds from the expedition against Samos [365 BCE]. Among his 14

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students were Theopompus of Chios, Ephorus of Cymē, Asclepiades, who wrote on the myths used by the tragedians, and Theodectes, who later wrote tragedies. . . .13 They say that Demosthenes approached Isocrates in all seriousness when he was still teaching oratory and said that he did not have the thousand drachmas that Isocrates charged but would pay only two hundred drachmas, on the condition that he learn ­one-­fifth of the subject. Isocrates responded, “We do not, Demosthenes, slice up the subject. People sell good fish whole, and so I, if you wish to be my student, will give you the whole skill.”14 Isocrates died in the archonship of Chaerondas [338/337  BCE], after he heard in the Palaestra of Hippocrates the reports about the Battle of Chaeronea [338 BCE].15 He ended his life by abstaining from food for four days, after he had recited the opening lines of three plays of Euripides: Danaus, the father of fifty daughters.16 Pelops, the son of Tantalus, after coming to Pisa.17 Once Cadmus, after having left the Sidonian city.18

Isocrates lived for ­ninety-­eight years, or, as some say, for ­one-­hundred years, and did not suffer to see Greece enslaved for the fourth time.19 One, or, as some say, four years before his death he wrote Panathenaicus (12). He composed Panegyricus (4) in ten years, or, as some say, in fifteen.20 He ­derived this speech from Gorgias of Leontini and Lysias.21 He wrote Antidosis (15) when he was ­eighty-­two years old, and the discourse To Philip (5)​ a little before his death. When he was an old man he adopted a son, Aphareus, the youngest of the three children of Plathanē, the daughter of the orator Hippias.22 Financially he did well, getting payments from pupils and also receiving twenty talents from Nicocles, king of Cyprian Salamis and son of Evagoras, for the discourse (2) written for him.23 For this he earned some ill will and was three times challenged in court to serve as a trierarch. Twice he pleaded illness and got off through his son, but the third time he had to spend not a little money. To a father who said that he was sending with his son nothing other than a slave, Isocrates responded, “Then go away. Because, if you do that, you will have two slaves instead of one.”24 He competed in the [oratorical] contest created for Mausolus by [his wife,] Artemisia, but his encomium is not preserved.25 He wrote also an encomium on Helen (10) and Areopagiticus (7). Some say he died on the ninth day, having abstained from food. Others say on the fourth day, on 15

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the day they buried those who fell at Chaeronea. His son, Aphareus, also wrote speeches. Isocrates was buried with his family near Cynosarges, on the hill to the ­left—​­he, his father, Theodorus, and his mother; her sister, Naco, Isocrates’ aunt; his adopted son, Aphareus; his cousin Socrates who was the son of Isocrates’ mother’s sister, Naco; and Theodorus, his brother named after his father; Aphareus’s sons; and Isocrates’ wife Plathanē, who was the mother of the adopted Aphareus. Over these were six slabs that are now not preserved. On Isocrates’ memorial there was a column thirty cubits [about nine meters] high, on the top of which, as a symbol, was a Siren seven cubits high, which is not preserved. There was also a plaque near it, and on it were poets and his teachers, including Gorgias looking at an astrological sphere with Isocrates standing alongside.26 Timotheus the son of Conon also dedicated a bronze statue of Isocrates at Eleusis, in front of the Prostoa, and it is inscribed Timotheus dedicated this image of Isocrates to the goddesses In return for his friendship and in honor of his intelligence. It is the work of Leochares.27

Sixty writings of Isocrates are in circulation, ­twenty-­five of them genuine according to Dionysius, ­twenty-­eight according to Caecilius.28 The others are forgeries. Isocrates did not like public displays, and when once three came to hear him, he allowed two to stay but dismissed the third, telling him to come the next day because the lecture hall was full. He regularly said to his students that he charged a thousand drachmas but would give a hundred thousand drachmas to the one who could teach him courage and how to speak with a good voice. To a fellow who asked him why, when he was not a capable speaker, he made others so, he said that whetstones themselves are not able to cut, but they make iron knives able to cut. Some say he wrote rhetorical handbooks,29 but others say he did not use a method but practice. He never charged a fellow citizen. He used to assign his students to attend meetings of the Ekklēsia and report to him what was said there. He was greatly distressed at the death of Socrates [399 BCE] and the next day went out wearing black. When someone asked him what “the rhetorical art” was, he said, “Making the small things great and the great things small.” When he was banqueting once with Nicocreon the tyrant of Cyprus, when those present were asking him to make a speech, he said, “Now is not the occasion for those things in which I am skilled, and I am not skilled in what befits this occasion.”30 16

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Once he saw the tragedian Sophocles following in an erotic way a boy and said to him, “You must not only keep your hands to yourself but also your eyes.”31 When Ephorus of Cyme left his school without having accomplished anything and was sent back by his father Demophilus on the condition of a second fee, Isocrates playfully called the Ephoros “Diphoros” [“The one who brings two harvests in one season”]. He was however sufficiently serious about the man and even suggested to him the subject of his work. Isocrates himself was inclined to sexual matters and so used in his bed extravagant bedding and a pillow saturated with saffron.32 He did not marry as a young man, but when he was old he was with a courtesan by the name of Lagiscē, and from her had a little daughter who died before she was twelve years old, before marriage.33 Then he married Plathanē, the daughter of the orator Hippias. She already had three children, and of them Isocrates adopted Aphareus, as was said before. Aphareus dedicated a bronze statue of Isocrates on a column at the Olympieion and inscribed it: Aphareus dedicated this statue of his father Isocrates to Zeus, Showing respect for the gods and the virtue of his ancestors.34

It is said that when he was a boy Isocrates rode racehorses, because on the Acropolis, in the ballcourt of the Arrephoroi, there is dedication of him, still a boy, riding on a racehorse, as some have said.35 In his whole life Isocrates had only two lawsuits. The first one was when Megaclides challenged him to an antidosis. Because of sickness Isocrates did not go to the trial but sent his son, Aphareus, and won the case. The second one was when Lysimachus challenged him to an antidosis concerning a trierarchy. Isocrates lost and underwent the trierarchy. There was a painted portrait of him in the Pompeion.36 Aphareus composed a few speeches, both forensic and symbouleutic. He wrote also about t­hirty-­seven tragedies, two of which are disputed. Over ­twenty-­eight years, beginning from the archonship of Lysistratus [369/368 BCE] and ending with that of Sosigenes [342/341 BCE], he offered six productions in the City Dionysia and won twice through Dionysius, and through others he offered two other productions at the Lenaia.37 Of Isocrates’ and Theodorus’s mother and of her sister Naco there were statues on the Acropolis. That of the mother stands now beside [Athena] Hygieia, but with its inscription changed. That of Naco is not preserved. Naco had two sons, Alexandrus from Coenus and Sosicles from Lysias.38 17

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ome elements of p ­ seudo-­Plutarch’s Life of Isocrates are drawn ultimately from Isocrates’ own writings, but we are fortunate that Isocrates was one of the most, if not the most, ­self-­reflective (and loquacious) authors of his time. What he tells of himself, his life, his old age, his writings, and his students goes far beyond the skeleton of the Life. He offers most about himself in Antidosis (15), written when he was about ­eighty-­two years old, and in Panathenaicus (12), begun ­ inety-­eight, just bewhen he was ­ninety-­four and finished when he was n fore his death. They, together with some letters and occasional comments in other writings, give a remarkably complete picture of Isocrates’ views of himself or, at the least, of the persona he was trying to project to his readers, his students, and the larger public.1

on his life I have shared in the greatest goods, goods that all would pray to share in. First of all, in good health in body and soul, and that not just as average people have it but as do those who can rival the ones exceptionally fortunate in each of these. And I enjoyed prosperity in life and so was never lacking any of the moderate things or the things that a sensible man would desire. Also, I was not one of the scorned or neglected people, but one of those whom the most cultivated Greeks would mention and talk about as being serious. So all these things have turned out for me, some exceptionally well, some satisfactorily so. (12.­7–­8, of 339 BCE) Isocrates had only two complaints about the fortune in his life, one “that my inborn nature was weaker and softer than it needed to be in regard to actions. In regard to words my nature was not perfect and useful in every

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way, but it was able to opine the truth about each thing better than those who claim to know. It was, however, inferior to almost all others in speaking about these same things in an assembly of many people. I was born deficient, to higher degree than any other citizen, in the two things that have the greatest power among us Athenians, a capable voice and boldness.” Isocrates particularly admired the boldness that was “not a sign of shamelessness but that prepares the soul, with sōphrosynē, so that a person is no less bold making speeches in front of all the citizens than when he is going through them in his mind by himself.” “Those who do not have this capable voice and boldness go around less honored than public debtors in respect to seeming to be worth something. Debtors, at least, have hopes of paying their debt, but those without a good voice and boldness can never change their inborn nature. I did not, though, in despair at this, let myself become completely without reputation or invisible. When I failed in politics, I took refuge in philosophy and hard work and in writing what I thought” (15.­190–­192, 12.­9–­11). The family fortune of Isocrates was lost in the Peloponnesian War (­431–­404 BCE), a fortune “from which my father made himself useful to the city [through liturgies] and from which he educated us so diligently that I then was more renowned among peers and fellow students than I am now [­354–­353  BCE] among my fellow citizens. When I began my studies with some teachers, I thought that, if I was able to acquire more money and surpass those starting on the same course of life, I would have a good reputation in two areas, for excelling in philosophy and for living in a more orderly way than the others” (15.­161–­162). “I arranged my life in the way I did not because of wealth or haughtiness or scorning those who did not live in the same way as I did, but loving quietude and not getting involved in the affairs of others. I saw that such people especially enjoyed a good reputation with you Athenians and others. I also thought that this life was more pleasant than that of those involved in many things and that it was more suited to the occupation that I had established for myself from the beginning” (15.151). In his description of the other teachers of rhetoric in Athens, Isocrates reveals his own preferences: “Those who are in charge of education practice no evil but of those in the city are the most uninvolved in others’ affairs and are living the most quiet life. They just attend to themselves and associate with one another. In everyday life they live most thriftily and orderly. They are passionate for speeches, not those spoken about private contracts [in the law 19

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courts] and harming people but those in high repute among all men. But still people dare to tell lies about them and say that they practice this in order that they may unjustly gain the advantage in lawsuits” (15.­227–­228). Sycophants are involved in lawsuits of all kinds, but Isocrates himself and those practicing the same occupation are involved in none “but so handle their own affairs that they have no need of lawsuits” (15.­237–­238).2 “I have so lived in the past that no one in the oligarchy or in the democracy charged me with injustice or hybris, and there is no arbitrator or juror who will be found who judged things that I have done. I knew that I myself committed no wrongs against others and that when wronged I did not seek vengeance through the law courts but settled disputed matters through the friends of my opponents. Now [­354–­353 BCE], after I have lived up to this advanced age without an accusation, I have entered into the same danger I would have if I had treated everybody unjustly” (15.­27–­28). In 346  BCE he wrote to Philip, king of Macedon: “I was of all citizens most unsuited by nature to participate in politics. I had neither a sufficient voice nor the boldness that is able to handle a crowd and take abuse and speak abusively against those rolling around on the speakers’ platform. I do claim, even if someone will say it is rather boorish to say so, good thinking and a fine education, and in these I would put myself not among the deficient but among those who excel the others” (5.­81–­82). In 350 BCE Isocrates wrote in a letter that, despite his avoidance of politics and public speaking because of his poor voice and lack of boldness, “I was not useless nor without reputation but would appear to have been a good adviser and helper to those who choose to say something good . . . ​about the allies. I composed more discourses promoting the freedom and autonomy of the Greeks than did all those wearing out the speakers’ platform.” And he wished “to show to my children that even if they did not serve as public speakers and generals but just imitated my manner of life, they would not live neglected among the Greeks” (Epist. 8.7, 10).

on his personal morality I never wronged anyone. (15.164) In Antidosis (15), his fictional defense before an Athenian jury, and in Panathenaicus (12), his final discourse for the Athenian people, Isocrates 20

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makes various claims about his moral stature: “I have tried to live doing no wrong and in a way causing no grief to others” (12.5). “If I always have made an effort not to treat anyone unjustly nor cause trouble or grief for anyone, but just because of this I annoy some, what can I do to win their favor?” (15.153). Isocrates has one of his associates say of him, “You show . . . ​ that in everyday matters you have lived in such an orderly and controlled way as I know of no other citizen. You did not bring charges against anyone or defend any case except the antidosis, and you did not help others in their lawsuits or serve as a witness or do anything else of those things that all citizens who participate in politics do” (15.144). In the remarkable conclusion to Antidosis, Isocrates sums up his oratorical career: “I know that I have used my discourses in such a religiously correct and just manner about the city and our ancestors and especially about the gods that if the gods have any concern with human affairs, nothing of what is now happening to me escapes their notice. Therefore I am not afraid of what is going to happen to me from you the jurors, but I am confident and have many good hopes that my life will end when it is beneficial to me. As an indication that this will happen, I in past time and up until today have so lived as befits only ­god-­respecting and ­god-­loved human beings” (15.­321–­322).

on his wealth I let go what was profitable and chose what was just. (12.86) Isocrates claims to have lost “all that he had” in the Peloponnesian War, the resources from which his father had been “useful” to the city (probably by paying liturgies) and had given Isocrates himself a fine education (15.161). When Isocrates was a child, “being wealthy was considered so safe and respected that almost all pretended to possess more property than they actually had and wanted to share the reputation of being wealthy. But now [355  BCE], if he is going to be safe, one must defend being wealthy as if were the greatest crime. It is much more frightening to seem prosperous than to commit crimes openly. Criminals find pardon or small fines, but the wealthy are completely destroyed, and more of them lose their property than those who are punished for their crimes.” The city now squeezes and humbles good men, in particular through the sycophants (15.­159–­160, 164). From his first student days, Isocrates wanted to surpass his peers in 21

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both philosophical study and the acquisition of money, but the prosecutor’s claim that Isocrates now possesses a great deal of property is a lie (15.5, 154). Sophists in general (and here Isocrates seemingly includes himself among them) do not acquire a lot of money. Gorgias, who had no obligations to a city or a family and was engaged in making money during his long life, was the richest of them, and he left at his death only 4.6 ­talents. Isocrates should be compared to him (15.­155–­158). And, Isocrates repeatedly insists, his own income was from abroad. He never quite refutes the prosecutor’s claim that he has received and still receives a great deal of money from generals, kings, and tyrants such as Nicocles (15.­30–­31, ­39–­40, 146), and he is proud that he receives money from foreigners and then spends it for the benefit of the city (15.146, ­164–­165). And he claims “to live” from less money than he has spent on liturgies, and that those who are thrifty in their private affairs should be praised (15.158). Near the end of his life Isocrates, unlike the public orators, can claim, “My family members and I not only kept our hands off public monies more than others do, but we even spent our private funds beyond our resources for the needs of the city” (12.12). In 355 BCE Isocrates claimed he held back from receiving public funds because he “thought it terrible if, when I could support myself from my private funds, I stood in the way of those who were forced to live from them and if because of my presence someone else would lack the necessities of life” (15.152).

on his writings I would be ashamed if I should appear more concerned with my reputation than with our public safety. Therefore it is my task and the task of others concerned with the city to choose not the most pleasing topics but those that are most beneficial. (8.39) No citizen has been harmed by my cleverness or by my writings. (5.33) I attempt to give advice in the manner to which I am suited by nature and in which I can, to my city and to the Greeks and to the most distinguished men. (5.82) I have been concerned for all those listeners who would find nothing more pleasant than a discourse describing the virtues of men and the character of a ­well-­governed city. (12.136) 22

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Isocrates, perhaps more than any author of his own or previous times, refers to his earlier writings, sometimes quoting them, sometimes summarizing them, and often, and more interestingly, giving his rationale for writing what he did and as he did. In 356 BCE, in a letter to Archidamus, now a king of Sparta, Isocrates, after praising him and his Spartan ancestors, declines to write an encomium: “I believe that those who claim goodness and good thinking must choose not the easiest topics but the ones that require the most work, not those most pleasing to listeners but those from which they will benefit their cities and the other Greeks.” He expresses surprise “at those who, capable of acting or speaking, have never thought to take to heart public affairs or to pity the misfortunes of Greece, which is in such a shameful and terrible state.” “Some of those who have had no share in education but promise that they are able to teach others dare to criticize my writings but are eager to imitate them. They would perhaps say that it is madness for me to be concerned with the misfortunes of Greece, as if because of my writings Greece would fare better or worse. All might charge them with cowardice and ­small-­mindedness because while pretending to practice philosophy they themselves seek honor in petty things but constantly feel ill will at those who are able to give advice about great matters. . . . ​But I am so proud of myself that, even though I am eighty years old and exhausted, I think it is fitting for me to speak especially about these great things.” Isocrates also claims that other Greeks, “if they had to select from all people the one who might best be able to motivate the Greeks to an expedition against the barbarians,” would choose him (Epist. 9.­7–­8, ­15–­17). In Antidosis (15) Isocrates lays out in considerable detail where he sees his work in the corpus of Greek literature, comparing his own work favorably to poetry, the writing of laws, and courtroom orations. “There are no fewer types of prose writings than poetic ones. Some prose writers spent their lives searching out the families of the demigods; others did philosophical studies of the poets; others wished to collect the actions in wars; and some others have engaged in questions and answers, writers whom we call dialecticians. It would not be a small task if someone attempted to enumerate all the forms of prose writings, but I will mention the one that is of concern to me and pass over the others. Some . . . ​have chosen to write not speeches about private legal contracts but discourses 23

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that treat the Greeks, affairs of the city, and are for panēgyreis. All would say that these discourses are more similar to writings with poetic art and meter than those spoken in the courtroom. They present their topics with a more elaborate and ornate style, and they seek to use weightier and newer thoughts, and they also furnish the whole written piece with more and more striking figures of speech. All, when they hear these, feel no less pleasure than in works composed in meter. . . . ​Many wish to become students of these authors because they know that these writers draw the power of those speeches from philosophy . . . , and that they are held in honor all the time in all groups and find a good reputation . . . , and that the more often and the more people these writers are with, the more they are admired. . . . ​Concerning my power, if you wish to call it that, or philosophy, or occupation, you have heard the whole truth” (15.­45–­50). Isocrates views himself and his like superior to those in his day writing or making new laws. “Countless other Greeks and barbarians have been capable of making laws, but not many can speak about things that are beneficial in a way worthy of our city and of Greece. . . . ​Such speeches are rarer, more difficult, and require a wiser soul. . . . ​We have now come to the point that speeches and laws are beyond count, and the oldest laws but the newest speeches are praised. . . . ​Those who want to make laws have the advantage that there is a multitude of laws at hand, and there is no need to seek others but just to try to collect those that have a good reputation with others, a thing that anyone who wishes might easily do. But for those engaged in speeches it is the opposite situation, because most things have been preempted. And if they say the same things as those said before, they will seem to be shameless and talking nonsense, but if they seek new things, they will find them only by laboring hard. . . . ​We also would seem to be more truthful and useful than those who claim they are leading ­people to sōphrosynē and justice. Some encourage a virtue and way of thinking unknown by others and even disputed among themselves. I encourage the virtue that is widely agreed upon by all” (15.­80–­84). Isocrates also considers his prose encomia of more value than the statues that the Greeks were just beginning to erect for benefactors. “I think that statues of bodies are also fine memorials but of much less value than the person’s deeds and thoughts, which someone might see only in skillful discourses. I prefer discourses because I know that good and noble men pride themselves not so much on the beauty of their bodies as they desire to be honored for their deeds and good thinking. And statues must 24

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remain among those among whom they have been erected, but discourses can be published in Greece and distributed among the gatherings of those who think well. . . . ​In addition, one cannot make his physical nature like those in sculpture and paintings, but it is easy, for those choosing to work hard, to imitate the character and way of thinking of others that are described in writings” (9.­73–­75). Antidosis includes not only Isocrates’ general thoughts about his writings but also his own brief summaries of three of his discourses: Panegyricus (4), On the Peace (8), and To Nicocles (2), sections of each of which he has, in this fictive trial, read aloud. After ­twenty-­five years, in ­354–­353 BCE, Isocrates clearly considers Panegyricus his finest discourse. On the Peace and To Nicocles were about “smaller things but not about things less useful or less beneficial to the city” (15.78). In Panegyricus (4) itself, Isocrates recognizes that many s­ elf-­proclaimed sophists have given epideictic speeches on the same subject but hopes that “I will so exceed them that it may seem that nothing ever has been said by others on the topic.” And he judges that “those speeches are best that are about the greatest subjects, especially show off the speakers, and are most beneficial to the listeners. And this is one of those” (4.­3–­4). He was concerned “with those listeners who will accept nothing said randomly” and “seek to find something in my discourses that they will not find in others” (4.12). He bids his listeners to have no pity for him but to laugh at and scorn him if “my discourse is not worthy of my reputation and not only of the time I have spent composing it but of my whole life (4.14). In looking back on Panegyricus t­wenty-­five years later, Isocrates summarizes and praises the discourse: “Panegyricus was written in those times [­390–­380 BCE] when the Lacedaemonians were ruling the Greeks and we Athenians were faring badly. It calls the Greeks to an expedition against the barbarians and disputes with the Lacedaemonians leadership of the expedition. . . . ​I show that our city has been the cause of all existing good things for the Greeks. After finishing the discussion about such benefits and wanting to make still clearer that the leadership of the expedition belongs to our city, I then attempt to teach that it is fitting for our city to be honored much more from the dangers it has faced in war than from its other benefactions.” Isocrates then has Panegyricus 5­1–­99 read out to the fictive jury, and concludes: “It is easy from what has been said to understand that the leadership justly belongs to our city. And think to yourselves if I seem by these words to be corrupting the young people 25

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but not inducing them to virtue and to facing dangers on behalf of the city. I have so praised our city and our ancestors and the dangers in those times that those who had written before about this topic all destroyed their speeches in shame and those who now seem to be clever do not dare still to write about these things but fault their own ability to do so” (15.­57–­61). “What discourse might be more religiously correct or just than the one that praises our ancestors in a way worthy of their virtue and of the deeds they performed? What discourse might be more concerned with the city and more befit the city than the one that demonstrates that the leadership should be ours rather than the Lacedaemonians’ because of our benefactions and the dangers we faced? What discourse might be about better and greater matters than one that summons the Greeks to an expedition against the barbarians and gives advice about Greeks finding harmony with one another?” (15.­76–­7 7). In 346 BCE Isocrates returned to Panegyricus again because his advice to Philip was much the s­ame—​­to reconcile the Greeks and make an expedition against the king of Persia. Isocrates is uncomfortable with repetition, something he usually avoids: “I do not wish to say the same things as I did” in Panegyricus, “but I am no longer able to search out new things to say” (5.84). He knows he has spoken on this topic in the same way before, “but since I have the same thoughts I chose not to work striving to say in a different way things that were previously well expressed. . . . ​I see others using my words and would be a fool if I held off using what I had written before. I would use my own words if there were time pressure and if they were appropriate, but I would not accept any of others’ words just as I have not in previous times” (5.­93–­94). By 346 BCE Isocrates had come to doubt the value of epideictic discourses like Panegyricus, however much they might be admired: “Those who disparage me imitate and admire that discourse even more than those who praise it highly.” But now he wishes to show to his students that to “burden panēgyreis and to speak to all those who run together in them is, in reality, to speak to no one.” “In the crowds at panēgyreis there are more who are sleeping than are listening.” “Such [epideictic] speeches are as ineffective as the laws and constitutions written by the sophists. Those who want not to talk nonsense but to accomplish something and those who think that they have discovered something good ought to allow others to make panegyric speeches” (5.­11–­13, 12.263; cf. 12.271). In 346 BCE 26

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Isocrates rather sadly confesses to Philip that the Athenians “thought less about what I said in Panegyricus than the ravings on the speakers’ platform. I gave up on my city but not on this project” (5.129). Isocrates describes how he opened his recent On the Peace (355 BCE) with discussion “about the peace with the Chians, Rhodians, and Byzantians.” “After showing that it is beneficial to the Greeks to settle the war, I attack our empire among the Greeks and our rule on the sea, showing that it differs in no way from monarchies either in actions or in sufferings, and I review all the things that happened because of it to our city and the Lacedaemonians and all the others. I lament the misfortunes of Greece and advise our city that we must not overlook Greece faring so badly, and in the end I summon our city to justice, criticize the mistakes being made, and give advice about the future” (15.­63–­65). He then has On the Peace ­25–­56 and ­132–­145 read to the jury. It is fascinating that Isocrates chose to include To Nicocles (2), of 374 BCE, among the discourses to be read aloud to a fictive Athenian jury. It was, in a sense, a private discourse, advising the Cyprian how to be a successful king, and in his introduction of it in Antidosis he indicates that it was not well k­ nown—​­as the others w ­ ere—​­to his audience and was not one of his best writings. But Isocrates wants that “it become more clear that all my writings are directed to virtue and justice.” He also wants to be known “the manner in which I was accustomed to associate with private individuals and dynasts.” “I will appear to have talked with Nicocles like a free man and in a manner worthy of our city, not paying court to his wealth or power but defending his subjects and trying to make his government as gentle as possible for them. . . . ​In the introduction and in the first things I said I criticize monarchies because, while monarchs must practice wisdom more than others, they are worse educated than the private citizens. . . . ​I advise Nicocles not to be lazy, taking the kingship as if it were a priesthood, but to neglect pleasures and give his attention to state affairs. I also try to persuade him that he ought to think it terrible when he sees inferiors ruling over their betters and the more foolish giving orders to the wiser” (15.­67–­72). Isocrates even comments on the unusual organization of the piece, its listing of various precepts: “It has not been written like the pieces previously read. They have what is being said always in agreement with and tied into what was said before, but in To Nicocles it is the opposite. For I have freed each point from what comes before, and I make the 27

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points separately, with general headings. I try there to express each piece of my advice in few words.” Near the end of his life, in Panathenaicus (12), Isocrates returns to many of these same topics. “When I was younger, I chose not to write mythological works or those full of marvels and fiction, . . . ​or those that describe ­long-­ago deeds or Greek wars, even though I knew that they were justly praised. I did not write those discourses that seem simply spoken, those without ornamentation, the kind that those clever in lawsuits advise younger men to practice if they want to get the advantage over their opponents. I dismissed all these and rather spent my time on writings that were beneficial to the city and giving advice to other Greeks. They are full of many finely honed thoughts and arguments and of antitheses and parisoseis and other figures of speech . . . ​that compel the listeners to approve and raucously applaud them. . . . “When I failed in politics, I took refuge in philosophizing and working hard and writing my thoughts, not about little things or about private contracts or the things about which some others talk nonsense, but about Greek and kingly and political matters. . . . ​Others were speaking abusively of one another in the meetings of the Ekklēsia about some deposit or were assailing the allies or anyone else as sycophants do. But I became the leader of discourses that encourage the Greeks to find harmony with one another and to send out an expedition against the barbarians, and of those advising all us Greeks together to send out colonies to a land so large and so good that . . . ​it would easily hold those of us who are in need of the everyday essentials” (12.­1–­2, 12.­11–­14). ­ inety-­seven years old, In this, his last speech, finished when he was n Isocrates uniquely comes to question his own writing: his treatment of the Lacedaemonians (“immoderate,” “slighting, excessively bitter, and altogether foolish”), his wandering off the subject, forgetfulness, and loquaciousness. He consults his students about whether he should destroy or circulate it, but decides to publish it, pretty much as is (12.55, 88, ­230–­233). The lack of figures of speech, however, is intentional. “I do not believe that it befits the ­ninety-­four years that I have nor in general those who have gray hairs still to speak in that way, but they should speak as all would hope to, if they wished, but none could easily do except those who are willing to work hard and pay very careful attention” (12.­2–­3; cf. 5.­27–­28). 28

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*  *  * Isocrates closes Panathenaicus with this comment, which encapsulates several of his principles: “I wish to praise those listeners who applaud this discourse and those who think that instructive and skillfully crafted discourses are more serious and philosophical than the epideictic ones and the ones written for contests, that the ones aiming at the truth are better than those that seek to mislead the opinions of the listeners, and that those that criticize faults and give advice are better than those spoken with the aim of pleasure and winning favor” (12.271).

on his students I attempt to educate others. You are at the right age to practice philosophy, and I keep on the right path those studying philosophy. (1.3) Those who instruct younger men not in the ways they will practice cleverness in speaking but how they will seem to be serious people in their personal characters benefit their listeners more. The former exhort them to speaking ability alone, but the latter set their characters on the right path. (1.4; cf. 13.21) Isocrates links the beginning of his teaching career with his publication of Against the Sophists (13), which is dated to 390 BCE, but consideration of those he names his students, especially Timotheus and Philomelus, makes it most likely that he began teaching no later than 393 BCE, when he would have been about ­forty-­three years old (15.­93–­94, 193). When trying to deprecate claims of his wealth, Isocrates claims that his accuser is exaggerating the number of his students (15.5, 31, and 41), but when defending his reputation he cheerfully claims he has had “many students” (15.87). In the context of making money he also seemingly disputes that his students included “not only Athenian citizens but also orators, generals, kings, and tyrants” (15.30); but elsewhere he claims as students and addresses just such individuals. He writes to or names Archidamus, a king of Sparta (Epist. 9), Nicocles, the king of Cyprian Salamis (2), Timotheus, the ruler of Heracleia Pontica (Epist. 7), and eight Athenians who were rewarded by the Athenians with gold crowns for their services (15.­93–­94). Most, however, of his students were n ­ on-­Athenians, some from Sicily and Pontus and such places, and “some of them spent three or even four years with me, and none of them will appear ever to have found fault with me, 29

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but, in the end, when they were going to sail back to their parents and friends, so loved their time with me that they departed with tears and a feeling of longing” (15.­87–­88, 224). “Fathers bring their sons to me, pay money, and rejoice when they see their sons spending the day with me” (15.241). His former students did pay him, but “they have such gratitude that they still even now [­354–­353 BCE] serve me” (15.165). In Antidosis (15) Isocrates imagines that, as with Socrates, the major charge against him was that he “corrupted the young,” and much of his discussion of his students and of the whole discourse addresses this charge. In his railing against his prosecutor and all such sycophants, he repeatedly stresses that, like himself, not one of his many students ever employed his ­now-­refined oratory in the law courts, in malicious prosecutions or cases about contracts (15.­30–­31, ­41–­42, 99). Those who studied with other teachers “were either themselves involved in great evils or were causing trouble for others, but my students were the most peaceful of the Greeks” (15.39). The eight Athenians he named as students did not grasp after others’ property but were good and noble men who spent much of their own money on the city, and for that Isocrates should be duly appreciated (15.­94–­100). Isocrates even has a friend say to him that “some of your students have never committed an injustice or a wrong, and others were awarded crowns by the city because of their virtue” (15.144). But not every student of Isocrates turned out good. In a letter of 345 BCE to Timotheus, the ruler of Heracleia Pontica, Isocrates writes this about Timotheus’s ­now-­dead father, who had been a harsh ruler: “When Clearchus was with me, all who met him agreed that he was most devoted to freedom, most gentle, and most philanthropic of those who shared in the program I offered. But when he got power, he seemed to change so much that all those who knew him before were amazed. And for these reasons I became alienated from him” (Epist. 7.­12–­13). In Panathenaicus, six years later, Isocrates claims, “I take more pleasure in those of my students who earn a good reputation for their lives and accomplishments than in those who seem clever at speaking. All would attribute to me the credit of their w ­ ell-­spoken speeches even if I contributed nothing, but for the things done well, even when all knew I was an adviser, everyone would praise the one who himself undertook the activities” (12.87). I describe Isocrates’ educational philosophy in chapter 4; here I briefly offer his thoughts on the qualities that he sought in a good student and the benefits that he promised as a teacher. The first and foremost essential 30

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for training in oratory is an innate nature suited to the tasks at hand, a soul that is able to be inventive and to learn, work hard, and remember. Parts of that nature are also a good voice, clarity of utterance, and boldness, the boldness to speak in front of all the citizens as if one were thinking to himself. In general terms Isocrates tells his students of the importance of this innate nature, then that they must be educated and receive the necessary knowledge, and third, become experienced and trained about the use and practice of the subject. Some of the products of Isocrates’ education “have become capable competitors in oratory; some have been able to teach oratory; others wished to remain private citizens but have become more cultivated in conversations and keener advisers and judges of arguments than most people” (15.­187–­190, 204). Other young Athenians devoted themselves to pleasures, cool wine, drinking, gambling, and hanging out with flute girls, but the students of Isocrates chose to pay money and work hard, and right from childhood they recognized that the person “who wanted a good start in life must attend to himself before his property, must not be eager or seek to rule others until he has had one to oversee his own thinking, and must not rejoice or take pride in goods other than those that arise in his soul because of education. . . . ​How is it not fitting for them to be praised rather than criticized and to be thought the best and to have the most sōphrosynē of their peers?” (15.­289–­290). “And all know that the finest and greatest pay for a sophist is if some of his students become good and noble and thoughtful and enjoy a good reputation among the citizens” (15.220). Isocrates offers an interesting vignette of his dealings with his students ­ inety-­seven and finishing the writing in his later years. When he was n of Panathenaicus (12), he thought he just needed to add an ending to the discourse he had begun three years before. “I was correcting the speech . . . ​ with three or four young men who regularly spent time with me. As we went through it, the speech seemed to be good and need only an ending. I decided to send for one of those who had studied with me, a man who had served in the government under the oligarchy and whose policy was to praise the Lacedaemonians. I did this in order that he might see and reveal any false statement that had escaped my notice” (12.200). This former student was “clever, ­much-­experienced, and trained in oratory no less than anyone of those who had studied with me” (12.229). The student did praise the discourse but also offered a very brief criticism of one element of Isocrates’ attack on the Lacedaemonians (12.­201–­202). Isocrates 31

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introduces his response rather harshly: “What he said, so brief and bitter, caused me not to break off the discussion where I wished but to think that I would be doing a shameful and terrible thing if I should overlook one of my students using bad arguments” (12.­203–­214). The student responds briefly (12.­215–­217), and Isocrates gives another response (12.­218–­228). But three or four days later Isocrates began to doubt himself and decided to “summon those of my students who were in Athens and to consult with them whether I should destroy the discourse completely or circulate it to those who wanted it.” He would do whichever seemed right to them. “I announced to them why they had been summoned, and the discourse was read. It was praised and applauded and found the reception that successful speeches in epideictic displays do” (12.­231–­233). Then Isocrates’ former student reappears and launches into a long, somewhat tortured final critique and interpretation of the discourse, in the course of which he urges Isocrates not to burn but to distribute it. When he finished, he was exuberantly praised by those present. Isocrates praised the man’s character and effort but did not say whether or not he had understood the discourse’s intent (12.­234–­265). Isocrates apparently chose not to alter what he had written before but to use the whole critical ­discussion—​­really, of course, his own responses to his own critique of his own ­discourse—​­as the needed conclusion to the discourse.3 The upshot is that Isocrates, at ­ninety-­seven years of age, would have us believe that he consulted his students on his work, happily accepted their accolades, listened to their objections, responded to them, but was unwilling to rewrite papyrus rolls of completed work. In 340 BCE Isocrates wrote, in a mode that will be familiar to all academicians, to Antipater, now regent of Macedonia, a letter of recommendation for Diodotus, one of his former students (Epist. 4). Despite the danger of sending a letter to Macedonia when Athens was at war with Philip, Isocrates still chose to write “because I think it is just to treat as important all those who have studied with me and have been worthy of me, and especially Diodotus, who demonstrates goodness and goodwill toward me.” Isocrates has had “many students of all types, and some have now great reputations. Some of the others have become clever in oratory, some in thinking and in action; some are cultured in their lives and have demonstrated sōphrosynē but are completely unsuited by nature to other useful activities. But Diodotus has such a ­well-­balanced nature that he is most perfect in all the things I have mentioned. I would not dare to say 32

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these things if I had not myself had the most precise testing of him. . . . ​In some matters I have personal experience with him; in others I hear from others who are experienced with him. Everyone who is not too envious of him would agree that no one is able to speak and plan better than he, and that he is most just, most in control of his financial matters, and very much has sōphrosynē. And that he is most pleasant and affable to spend the day with and to live with.” Isocrates faces, however, a problem that we as recommenders sometimes face, a w ­ ell-­known fault of our student. Diodotus is known for abundant frankness, and this has put him at odds with some of the monarchs in Asia with whom he has worked. Because of his frankness he has also lost political offices in his home city. Isocrates, who, of course, saw himself as a frank critic of Athenians and others and suffering for that, argues at length in this letter that such frankness is, in fact, of great benefit to monarchs and governments in general and will be so to Antipater himself. Isocrates closes with a personal appeal, that Antipater receive Diodotus and his son “as a deposit of his old age, his reputation, and the goodwill that he has always had toward Antipater.”

on his old age It would now be fitting to be eager to stay at home since my end is so near. epist . 6.2, written when isocrates was ­s eventy-­s even years old, ­t wenty-­o ne years before his death.

“If I were younger, I would not be sending you, Dionysius [tyrant of Syracuse], a letter, but I would have sailed myself and talked with you there in Sicily.” For Isocrates, it is no longer his prime of life: “I have retired.” This is among Isocrates’ first mentions of his old age, in 368 BCE, when he was ­sixty-­eight years old (Epist. 1.1). Isocrates was, in fact, by no means “retired.” He was to live and to publish for another thirty years. At about the same time (374 BCE) Isocrates sent to Nicocles, king of Cyprian Salamis, an encomium of his father, Evagoras. There Isocrates claims to be beyond his prime, “a prime in which I would have composed the encomium with more precision and effort, but I will do the best I can.” Part of his praise of Evagoras is that he lived so long as to experience old age but not the diseases that arise because of it (9.­71–­73). In 359  BCE, the children of Jason, the assassinated (370  BCE) tyrant 33

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of Pherae, in Thessaly, regained their father’s power and informally invited Isocrates, now s­ eventy-­seven years old, to visit. Isocrates considered himself a friend of Jason’s and now of his children. He declined the invitation for a number of reasons, including that he was unable to travel and thought it improper for men of his age to take up guest residences. He tells them he is writing them a letter, not a rhetorical showpiece, because “I have not become so mad as to think that, so far beyond my prime, I could write better things than I have published before. I know if I published worse things I would receive a much lower reputation than I currently enjoy.” “I do think, however, that I am at the prime time of life for giving advice because their experience teaches men of my age and makes them more able than others to see what is best. But it is not characteristic of my time of life to speak about topics in a graceful, elegant, and elaborate manner. I would be content if I spoke about them not in a completely loose manner” (Epist. 6.­1–­2, 4, 6). In his early eighties Isocrates first seems to feel more deeply that his old age is compromising the quality of his work. In On the Peace (8), of 355 BCE, at age ­eighty-­one, he claims that, because of his age, “I can’t encompass in my discourse all the thoughts I have on the subject” (8.141; cf. 145). The next year, Isocrates still thinks “the end of my life is near.” In Antidosis (15), fictionally a legal defense against a challenge to antidosis, in reality a defense of his whole career, Isocrates thinks that if he had defended the case when he was in his prime, he would not be dispirited but could ward off the prosecutor and better come to the aid of philosophy. The composition of such a long and complicated discourse was “no small task,” but he completed it, old as he was. He worries that “I will not be able to make my defense in a way worthy of my reputation because of my old age and inexperience in courtrooms.” He had intended to rehearse all the good things Athens had been responsible for, but his old age prevented that. Instead he had the clerk read relevant sections from his Panegyricus (12). He asks for sympathy if Antidosis appears softer than his previous publications (15.4, ­9–­11, 26, 59, 176, 251, 272). When, in 346 BCE, at the age of ninety, Isocrates told his students that he was writing for Philip an essay (5) not of praise, as might be expected, but of advice, “they were so astonished, afraid that because of my old age I was out of my mind, that they criticized me, a thing that they had not been accustomed to do before.” But Isocrates pressed on, “not deceived about the sickness” he then was suffering and recognizing that the piece needed not one of his age but a writer in his prime. His old age, he claims, prevents him from writing extensively about Philip’s ancestor Heracles 34

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and from employing the prose rhythms and elaborate figures of speech that he had used and taught when he was younger. “Now I am content if I can describe matters simply.” “If I lack something now and cannot write the same way as in my earlier publications, I think I can outline elegantly some topics for those who are able to elaborate and bring them to ­completion.” Again he asks for sympathy for his old age if some of what he has written is softer and inferior, but, “if what I have written is like my former writings, then my old age did not invent it but the divine suggested it, the divine that is concerned not for me but for Greece and that wishes to free Greece from its troubles and to give you, Philip, a reputation much greater than you already have” (5.1, 10, ­17–­18, ­27–­28, 85, 110, 149, 153). Isocrates began writing Panathenaicus (12) when he was n ­ inety-­four years ­ inety-­eight: old and here explains why he did not finish it until he was n “When it was half written, I suffered from a disease that it is not fitting to describe but that can kill not only older men in three or four days but also many men in their prime. I have continued fighting this for three years, spending each day so laboriously that those who knew, or heard from others, admired me more for my endurance than for the things for which I was praised before. When I was now exhausted from the disease and old age, some of those observing me and having read several times the part of the discourse that had been written were asking and advising me not to leave it ­half-­finished or incomplete but to work for a short time and give my attention to what remained to be done. . . . ​I was persuaded to work on the remaining parts, although I was ­ninety-­seven years old, and another in my condition would not only not have attempted to write a discourse but would not have been willing to listen to another presenting one” (12.­267–­270). Isocrates, in retrospect, was not happy with parts of the discourse. “I was pained and annoyed by my comments on the Lacedaemonians. I seemed not to have talked about them in a moderate way or in the way others did. It was slighting, excessively bitter, and altogether foolish. Many times I started to erase or burn the discourse, but I changed my mind, pitying my old age and all the hard work I had put into it” (12.232). And Isocrates attributes to his old age also wandering off the topic and the inability to come up with original ideas. He asks his audience to pardon his old age for his forgetfulness and loquaciousness, “both of which attend men of such an age” (12.55, 88, 95). And in a remarkably personal statement but with a very Isocratean twist: “Old age is so peevish and captious and f­ault-­finding that many times already I found fault with my nature, but no one else has thought badly of it” (12.8). 35

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In letters of about this time, to Timotheus of Heracleia Pontica (345 BCE), to Alexander (342 BCE), and to Philip (342 BCE), Isocrates raises briefly the matter of his age. He will advise Timotheus again, “if my old age does not prevent it” (Epist. 7.10). To Alexander he hopes that the readers will not think “I have lost my mind or am talking complete nonsense because of my old age but will rather think that something that is still left and remaining is not unworthy of the power that I had when I was younger” (Epist. 5.1). To Philip he writes that they both suffer a bad reputation among the Athenians. Philip can easily correct this, but “I myself, because of my old age and many other things, must be content with the present situation” (Epist. 2.­22–­ 23). And finally, in 338 BCE, in his last year of life, in his last writing, Isocrates tells Philip, “I am completely worn out” (Epist. 3.4).

on his reputation I was not one of the scorned or neglected people, but one of those whom the most cultivated Greeks would mention and talk about as being serious. (12.8) I would be ashamed if I should appear to be more concerned with my reputation than with our common safety. (8.39) Just before 354  BCE, Isocrates lost a lawsuit. In a courtroom his fellow citizens voted against him, and he was required to assume an expensive trierarchy. This apparently caused him, now e­ ighty-­two years old, to r­ eflect on his personal reputation among his fellow citizens, about which he had shown in his writings only passing concern until this time (e.g., 4.3 and 14). To defend his reputation and his life and practices, he composed Antidosis (15), a speech for a fictitious lawsuit in which he pretended to be the defendant. Antidosis was to make known “my character, my life, and the education in which I spend my time” (15.­5–­6). The discourse is to be an image of his way of thinking and of how he has lived, and “will be left behind as a memorial much more beautiful than bronze dedications” (15.7). Before the lawsuit, Isocrates claims, “I thought I was on good terms with the private citizens, but now, when the end of my life was near and there was the trial about the antidosis, I realized that some of my fellow citizens were not disposed to me as I was expecting. Some were deceived about my practices and were inclined to believe those saying something malevolent. Others knew clearly in what I spend my time but feel an 36

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envious ill will toward me and suffer the same affliction as the sophists and take pleasure in those who have a false opinion about me” (15.4, 141). He has the imagined prosecutor attack his wealth, the number of his students, and the power of his words. Some of his fellow citizens, he admits, did not like his discourses: “The many love more those who speak to please them than those who actually do good things for them and more the ones who deceive with flash and cordiality than those who help them with dignity and seriousness” (15.133). Isocrates had expected better. When he began his career, he wanted to create a good reputation for his philosophical studies and his orderly life, but instead he is now (in 3­ 54–­353 BCE) facing lawsuits, dangers, ill will, and slander (15.­162–­163). From the subjects and types of discourses he wrote and the artistic style in which he wrote them, he thought the listeners would take no less pleasure than in poems, and that authors such as he “were honored in all groups and in all times and found a good reputation.” The more often people were with them, the more they were admired. Such writers shared in the education in which Isocrates himself claimed some expertise and for which he had a good reputation. It is a matter of his “power, or philosophy, or vocation” (15.­46–­50). He also thought that those had a good reputation who did not have great wealth, or arrogance, or scorn for those who chose not to live as they did but lived a quiet and noninterfering life, all of which Isocrates claimed for himself (15.151). He always “worked hard not to treat anyone unjustly or cause grief or pain for anyone,” but this, it turns out, itself pains some (15.153). Isocrates sees as one source of criticism of him from the general public their antipathy toward rhetorical education and his own philosophy: “I saw that not only those who customarily are ill disposed to everything are hostile concerning rhetorical education, but so are also many other citizens, and I was afraid . . . ​that I might harvest something bad from the common slander of the sophists” (15.168). His misfortune in philosophy followed him all the time among some people, and “it is the cause of the lies about me and the slanders and the ill will and that I am not able to find the reputation that I deserve” (12.21). In Panathenaicus (12), at the end of his long life, Isocrates seems quite despondent about his reputation. “I chose to write about Greek and kingly and political topics, things because of which I thought it was fitting for 37

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me to be honored more than those who come to the speakers’ platform. . . . ​ But it didn’t turn out that way for me” (12.­11–­12). Isocrates in his strange encomium of Agamemnon in this discourse identifies with him, a hero to whom he attributes all the personal and military virtues he values: “I choose to come to the aid of a person who has suffered the same thing as I and many others, a man who has failed to find the reputation that he ought to have, a man who was responsible for the greatest goods at that time but is less praised than those who have accomplished nothing worth talking about” (12.75, 78). Some of his fellow citizens continued to be annoyed by the artistry of his discourses: “Am I to make a defense against those private citizens who unjustly feel ill will toward me, and am I to try to teach them that neither justly nor fittingly they have this opinion of me? And yet who would not charge me with great folly if I should think that, if I talked in the same way as before with those who are annoyed with me only because I appear to speak artfully about some matters, I would stop those being aggrieved at what I say but would not pain them more?” (12.23). But more fundamentally the many were deceived by the sophists, by whom Isocrates thought he was under constant assault. Very near the end of his life, he can claim, “At no time in my life have I not been slandered by disreputable and wicked sophists and by others who do not know what kind of person I am but assume I am like what they hear from those sophists” (12.5; cf. 12.6). “Some of those sophists who think they excel and who emulate me and attempt to imitate me are more hostile to me than the private citizens. They are the ones who can tell not even a fraction of the things I say to my students but use my discourses as paradigms and make a living from that but so lack any gratitude to me that they are not willing just to neglect me but are always saying something mean about me. They were mutilating my discourses by comparing them in the worst possible way to their own and by dividing them up wrongly and chopping them up and corrupting them in every way” (12.­16–­17). The sophists’ criticisms of Isocrates are nowhere more strikingly detailed than in Isocrates’ own account of an incident in his last years. “A ­little before the Great Panathenaia I was distressed because of the sophists. Some of my friends met me and were telling me how three or four of the lowly sophists who claim to know everything and are now cropping up quickly everywhere were sitting together in the Lyceum. They were talking about other poets and the poetry of Hesiod and Homer. They were saying nothing original, just reciting their works and recalling some of the most artful things said before by some others. The bystanders applauded 38

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their activity, and one of the sophists, the boldest one, attempted to slander me, saying that I scorn all such things and that I do away with all the philosophies and educational programs of others, and that I say that all except those who have shared in what I do are talking nonsense. After these things were said, some of those present became unpleasantly disposed toward me. I could not say how distressed and disturbed I was when I heard that some applauded these statements. I thought that I was so evident making war on boasters and talking moderately, even humbly, about myself that no one would ever trust those who said that I made such boasts. My misfortune in philosophy has followed me all my life among such people. This is the reason for the lying that has occurred about me and the slanders and the ill will and for my not being able to gain the good repute that I deserve, an opinion of me that is widely accepted and that some of my students and those who have observed me in all situations have of me. This cannot be otherwise, but I must be content with what has happened” (12.­17–­22; cf. 12.25). Isocrates valued most a good reputation among serious people, those “who attempt to endeavor after truth,” “the best of the Greeks and those who truly practice philosophy.” This was a reputation “based on reasoning,” and he has his student say that “some would choose to have a good reputation with them more than with the many, even if the many should be twice as many as they are” (12.261, 263; cf. 9.74, 15.170). Isocrates seems to think that he has or can reestablish that. He is confident that he can dispel his bad reputation among the good people, the ones who follow truth and are persuaded by those who make just arguments (15.170). And sadly, Isocrates puts in the mouth of the same former student, one of those educated and wise people Isocrates admires, his own encomium and his own hopes. “Your critics’ writings are more inferior to yours than other epic poets are inferior to the reputation of Homer” (12.263). “In past times I used to admire your inborn nature, your ­well-­ordered life, love of hard work, and especially the truth of your philosophy. But now I envy you and deem you blessed for your eudaimonia. I think that while living you will a receive a reputation no greater than you d ­ eserve—​­for that would be ­hard—​­but a good reputation among more people and more commonly agreed upon than your current reputation. And when you have ended your life, you will share in i­mmortality—​­not the immortality the gods have but what creates for those coming afterward a memory about exceptional people for some one of their good works” (12.260). 39

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i so c rat e s : on moral i t y an d r e l ig ion

I say that all people do everything for the sake of pleasure or profit or honor. Apart from these I see no desire that occurs in human beings. (15.217)

R

elatively early in his writing career, in the 370s, Isocrates wrote three essays of moral and political instruction, one for Demonicus (1), the son of a Cyprian friend, and two for Nicocles, now the king of Cyprian Salamis, the first of advice (2), the second in the guise of an address by Nicocles to his subjects (3).1 I use these three essays as core texts to present Isocrates’ moral views, supplementing them with the many additional comments Isocrates makes in his other writings. I offer in this chapter only Isocrates’ most general comments on the virtues and religion, and application of them to political theory or to historical and contemporary events may be found in chapters 5 and 6. One may collect all references to each virtue by consulting the general index. The precepts or maxims and observations in the three moral essays are simply presented, not argued for or even usually illustrated. In form they go back to similar precepts in the much earlier didactic poetry of Hesiod and Theognis, and I have chosen for the most part to present them as Isocrates wrote them and not dismember them to create a cohesive narrative on each topic. Many are common and familiar, a fact of which Isocrates was well aware: “Do not be surprised if many of the things I say you already know. . . . ​I knew that some of the many rulers and others have said some of these things; some have heard them; some have seen others practicing them, and some themselves practice them. In these topics one ought not to seek innovations, topics in which it is not possible to say

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anything paradoxical or incredible or outside convention, but one ought to consider most cultivated the person who is able to gather the most of the things scattered in the thoughts of others and is able to express them best” (2.­40–­41). But Isocrates thought they had value: “Consider many of my precepts worth more than a lot of money. Money is quickly lost, but the precepts remain with you for all time” (1.19). Before introducing individual topics and the precepts associated with them, I begin with two of Isocrates’ most w ­ ide-­ranging (and characteristic) observations, one positive, one negative. The first comes from Panathenaicus (12), near the end of his life. “Whom then do I call well educated . . . ? First, those who handle well the matters that befall them each day and can successfully judge situations and are able for the most part to target what is beneficial; next, those who properly and justly associate with those about them, tolerating easily and ­good-­naturedly unpleasantnesses or offensiveness of others and being themselves as pleasant and moderate as is possible to those they are with; in addition, those who are always in control of pleasures and are not unduly overcome by misfortunes, being courageous in them in a manner worthy of the inborn nature we all share; fourth, and most important of all, those who are not corrupted by successes and do not change and become arrogant but remain in the class of ­good-­thinking men, not rejoicing more in the good things that have come to them by chance than in those which originate from their own natures and good thinking. Those whose souls’ condition is in accord not only with one of these things but with all of ­them—​­these, I say, are ­good-­thinking and complete men and possess all the virtues” (12.­30–­32). The second is to King Nicocles (2): “If we consider the natures of humans, we will find that most of them do not find pleasure in the most healthy foods or in the best practices or actions or in the most beneficial lessons. Rather, they have pleasures that are most opposed to what is beneficial, and they think those who do any of those things that they ought to do are austere and ­labor-­loving. . . . ​They feel an envious ill will at those who think well, and they consider open and sincere those who have no sense. And they so avoid the truths of things that they do not know what they are doing. They are pained thinking about their own affairs but enjoy talking about others’. They would wish to suffer with their body rather than to labor for their soul and think about any of the necessary things. One might find them speaking abusively or being abused in social interactions but in private daydreaming rather than planning” (2.­45–­47; cf. 8.106, 109). 41

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on virtue (Ἀρετ ή) All my writings are directed toward virtue and justice. (15.67) If you passionately desire money and greater power and the dangers by which these are acquired, summon other advisers. If you have enough of these but desire virtue, a good reputation, and goodwill among the many, pay attention to my words. (Epist. 7.7) Some encourage a virtue and way of thinking unknown by others and even disputed among themselves. I encourage the virtue that is widely agreed upon by all. (15.84) “I am going to advise you what things the younger ought to strive after, what actions they ought to avoid, with what kind of people they ought to associate, and how they ought to manage their lives. For only those who have gone on this path of life are able genuinely to attain virtue, and there is no more revered or enduring possession than this. . . . “The possession of virtue, when it genuinely grows in our thoughts, alone grows old with us, and it is better than wealth and more useful than good birth. It makes possible things impossible for others and endures courageously what is frightening for the multitude” (1.5, 1.7). “Those who have sound thoughts by chance and not by reason might be persuaded to change, but those who, in addition to their inborn nature, have understood that virtue is the greatest of goods clearly will continue all their lives in this state” (3.47). “In general the lives of men are destroyed by wickedness but preserved by virtue” (6.36). “Think not that wickedness is able to bring more benefits than virtue but that only its name is more unpleasant. Think that each action has those qualities that the name given to it has” (3.59). “Not for making money or reputation or for what must be done or in general for eudaimonia might anything contribute such power as virtue and its parts” (8.32). “We show proper respect concerning the gods and practice justice and the other virtues not in order that we may have less than others but in order that we may live our lives with the most good things” (3.2). “If someone assumes that those who steal or mislead by fallacious reasoning or do something bad have the advantage, he is of the wrong opinion. In all life none are inferior to such men or are in more difficulties 42

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or live in a more censurable way or are, in general, more miserable” (15.281). “Most Greeks when they see or hear of individuals who are spending time in practices that seem to be good praise them and talk much about them, without knowing what will result from these practices. Those who wish to evaluate these people rightly ought initially to keep quiet and form no opinion about them, but when they come to the time that they will see them speaking and acting in private or public matters, then they ought to watch each one carefully and praise and honor those who use their practices well and lawfully, but they ought to criticize and hate those who commit wrongs and evil. They ought to be on their guard against their ways, realizing that it is not the fundamental nature of things that benefits or harms us but that the uses and actions of the people are the causes of all the results for us. . . . ​Things that are the same and in no way different are for some people beneficial and for some harmful. It is not easy for each thing to have a nature that is opposite to itself and not the same, but who of those who reason rightly would not reasonably think that nothing the same results for those acting rightly and justly and for those acting licentiously and evilly?” (12.­221–­224). “I think all would agree that those who use things invented for the benefit of mankind for harm are most evil and deserving of the greatest punishment, not if they use them against the barbarians or criminals or those attacking their land but if they use them against their closest relations and those who share the same kinship” (12.­219–­220). “Nothing that lacks beauty is loved, but all things except those that share this quality are scorned. And virtue especially has a good reputation because it is the most beautiful of the practices” (10.54). “Don’t appear craving honor in such things as even the evil are able to accomplish, but take pride in virtue, in which the wicked have no share” (2.30). “It is best if someone can excel others in those virtues in which the wicked have no share but that are most genuine, most abiding, and worthy of the greatest praises. . . . “The Greeks and barbarians who have the greatest reputations for virtue become masters of the most good things. . . . “Lead the younger people to virtue not only by giving advice but also by showing them in actions what sort of people good men ought to be” (3.43, 3.50, 3.57). “We ought not to test all virtues in the same set of conditions, but justice when a man is in need, sōphrosynē when he is in power, and s­ elf-­control when he is a youth” (3.44). 43

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*  *  * Isocrates terms as virtues first and foremost justice and sōphrosynē but also courage, wisdom, proper respect for the gods, good thinking, and once, in his praise of Helen, beauty. Of these serious people should aspire especially after justice, sōphrosynē, and good thinking because lowly people never attain them (1.38, 12.­71–­72, Epist. 2.10). I have already shown (p. 41) the characteristics Isocrates associates with men possessing “all the virtues.” Theseus, in Isocrates’ judgment, was one of these. “We will find that of the other men who have had a good reputation one lacked courage; another, wisdom; and another some other such part, but Theseus alone lacked not even one thing but possessed complete virtue” (10.21). Theseus demonstrated courage, proper respect for the gods, sōphrosynē, good thinking, and the other virtues (10.31, 12.127; cf. 5.144, 12.130, 205). Isocrates praises the virtues of several Greek Homeric heroes, including Achilles, Ajax, Teucer, Nestor, and Menelaus (9.17, 12.­71–­72, 89), but in his long encomium of Agamemnon Isocrates credits him with having “not one or two but all the virtues that someone could mention, and these not in a middling but exceptionally high degree” (12.72). Isocrates wrote his encomium of King Evagoras (9), thinking that for his son, Nicocles, and his children and descendants it would be the finest encouragement “if someone collected the virtues of Evagoras, adorned them in language, and handed them down to him to contemplate and spend time with” (9.76). These virtues included courage, wisdom, justice, and good thinking (9.23, 65; cf. 9.31, 33, 38, 62, 81). Isocrates even concludes that “if any mortals have become immortal because of their virtue, I think that Evagoras too is worthy of this gift” (9.70). The only other mortal whom Isocrates has immortalized because of his virtue is Heracles (5.132). And, finally, about his Athenian ancestors Isocrates thinks the claim appropriate that not only “were they not wicked, but in all the virtues they surpassed those living both then and now” (12.123). Virtue results from one’s upbringing and education. “In misfortunes we must show if we have been raised better and educated better than others in respect to virtue” (6.102). “The advancement of virtue is from everyday practices because the majority of people turn out similar to the habits in which each of them is educated” (7.40). Models of behavior are important. Our ancestors “urged virtue on the multitudes” (4.75) and honored Homer and made him part of the education of the young “so that hearing many times his poetry we might . . . ​emulate the virtues of those who campaigned 44

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[against Troy] and desire the same deeds they did” (4.159). Virtuous contemporaries ought also to be praised “in order that the younger men may seek honor in virtue” (9.5). But, alas, “there is no craft that can create sōphrosynē and justice in those by their innate natures badly suited to virtue,” a claim that Isocrates repeats nearly forty years later in the Antidosis (13.21, 15.274). In a moment of despair, in 355 BCE, Isocrates laments to Athenians that he “would wish that, as easy as it is for virtue to be praised, it were equally easy to persuade my listeners to practice it” (8.36).

on justice Nothing said or done without justice is religiously correct and good. (12.187) No one could persuade me that one should consider anything more useful than what is just. (6.35) All would agree that sōphrosynē and justice are the virtues worth most. Not only do they on their own benefit us, but if we should look at human natures and powers and activities, we will find that those that do not share in these qualities are responsible for great evils but those that occur with sōphrosynē and justice benefit the lives of humans in many ways. (3.­29–­30) Those people are most illogical who think that justice is a better and more ­god-­loved practice than injustice but think that those who practice it will live worse than those who have chosen wickedness. (8.35) “There is no one who does not give preference, in human practices, to proper respect concerning the gods, justice concerning men, and good thinking concerning other activities” (12.204). “Nothing of what I have said can happen until you are persuaded that quietude is more beneficial and more profitable than meddling in others’ affairs, justice than injustice, and attention to one’s own affairs than the desire for the things of others” (8.26). “Prepare yourself to be able to get the advantage, but accept getting an equal share, so that you may seem to be striving for justice, not through weakness but through goodness. Accept just poverty more than unjust wealth. Justice is better than money in that money benefits only the living, 45

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but justice creates a good reputation even for those who have died. And even lowly people have money, but they cannot share in justice. Do not emulate any of those who profit from injustice, but rather applaud those who suffer loss while being just. For if the just have no other advantage over the unjust, they excel them in serious hopes” (1.­38–­39). “Even many evil men share in courage and cleverness and the other things that have a good reputation, but sōphrosynē and justice are the unique possessions of the good and noble. It is best if someone can excel others in these virtues in which the wicked have no share and which are the most genuine, secure, and deserving of the greatest praise” (3.43; cf. 12.71). “If it is not easy to find an injustice that has not yet happened, and if we think that those caught in each of them is doing nothing terrible when others appear to have done the same things, how would we not make defenses easy for all and create license for those who wish to be wicked?” (11.45). “If you treat evil men well, you will suffer the same things that those who feed others’ dogs do. Those dogs bark at those who give them food as much as at chance people, and the evil treat unjustly those who benefit them as much as those who harm them. Hate fawners as much as deceivers. For both, when trusted, do injustices to those who have trusted them” (1.­29–­30). Isocrates repeatedly and consistently claims that what is just is also beneficial to the just party, whether an individual or city. For the city, see chapter 5, and for this principle in history, chapter 6. “Those who are most religiously correct and most just actually do get more of the good, not the bad, things” (15.284). “We show proper respect concerning the gods and practice justice and the other virtues not in order that we may have less than others but in order that we may live our lives with the most good things” (3.2). “Some have become so foolish that they have assumed that injustice is censurable but profitable and beneficial for everyday life, and that justice has a good reputation but is unprofitable and able to benefit others more than those having it. They understand badly that for making money or for reputation or for doing what must be done nothing might contribute as much power as virtue and its parts. . . . ​I am surprised if someone thinks that those who practice justice and proper respect for the gods persevere and remain in these practices expecting that they will get less than the wicked but do not believe that they will gain more than the others from both the gods and men. . . . ​I see that those who give preference to injustice and think it is the greatest good to take something that belongs to others 46

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are suffering the same things as those creatures who are captured by bait. In the beginning they enjoy what they take but a little later they find themselves in the greatest evils. Those who live with proper respect for the gods and with justice live their lives in safety in the present and have sweeter hopes about all eternity” (8.­31–­34). Isocrates also argues for or from justice in courtroom orations he wrote for others. “All men commit injustice for the sake of profit” (21.6). “I would feel shame for the one who has died if you all were not persuaded that he did these things not only according to the laws but also justly” (19.16). “And let no one of you, having seen that I am a poor man and one of the common people, think it right to reduce the fine [levied on my opponent]. It is unjust to make the fines that benefit those without a reputation smaller than for those who are widely known by name, nor is it just to consider the poor inferior to those who are rich” (20.19; cf. 20.20). “I see that you, when you convict someone of robbing a sanctuary or theft, make the punishment not based on how much they take but condemn all equally to death and think it just that those who attempt the same deeds be punished with the same punishments” (20.6). “I think you all know that all people when they undertake to commit an injustice are at the same time thinking about their defense” (21.17). Individuals who, in Isocrates’ opinion, exhibited justice included Theseus and Agamemnon (if we include justice among “all the virtues”), and, explicitly, Heracles (5.110), Menelaus (12.72), Evagoras as a man but not as a boy (9.23, 26, 38, 43), and Pericles (15.111, 16.28). Isocrates, not surprisingly, claims it for himself: “I let go what was profitable and chose what was just” (12.86). “I know that I have used my discourses about the city and our ancestors and especially about the gods in a religiously correct and just manner” (15.321; cf. 15.27, 67).

on s ō phrosyn ē The pleasures we have from good actions we have genuinely. In sloth and surfeit the pains are on the heels of the pleasures, but working 47

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hard on virtue and managing one’s life with sōphrosynē always give pure and more enduring pleasures. In the first case we have pleasures first and then pains, but in the other we have pleasures after the pains. And in all actions we do not remember so much the beginning as the end. Most things in life we do not because of the activities themselves, but we labor at them because of the results. (1.­46–­47) Sōphrosynē, etymologically “thinking sound thoughts,” has a variety of meanings that no single English word covers. The person with sōphrosynē may be sensible as contrasted with “foolish,” or s­elf-­controlled as contrasted with “unrestrained,” or temperate as compared with “excessive in emotions or desires.” Isocrates links it with “orderly behavior” and “discipline,” and contrasts it to “folly,” “lack of restraint,” “hybris,” “shamelessness,” and “meddling in others’ affairs” (3.36, 45, 7.4, 37, 8.58, 119, 12.115, 15.190). For sōphrosynē in sexual matters, see King Nicocles’ claim to it (3.­36–­40, 45) in chapter 5. Sōphrosynē is a virtue that Isocrates associates with the way individuals live. It is a mode of life, “to live in accordance with sōphrosynē” (1.46, 4.81, 6.59, 7.7, 15.229, Epist. 4.2). Governments, too, may have or not have it (8.104, 119, 12.151, Epist. 9.4). Isocrates attributes sōphrosynē to Theseus (10.31), Menelaus (12.72), Helen(!) (10.38), Pericles (15.111, 16.28), Evagoras even as a young man (9.22), Philip (5.7), the Spartans in early times (7.7, 12.111, Epist. 9.4), and, of course, to his own Athenian ancestors (7.37, 12.197). In his attack on the sophists who claimed to be teaching sōphrosynē (15.84, 274), Isocrates claims that “there is no art by which one can create justice and sōphrosynē in those by nature ill suited to virtue,” but training in oratory, in particular political oratory (which Isocrates taught), might help encourage them and help them practice it and “make them better and worth more” (13.21, 15.274). Others, though, could be taught sōphrosynē, as the good government of Athenian ancestors taught their fellow citizens (7.20, 8.63, 12.138). The rewards of sōphrosynē are significant. To his fellow Athenians Isocrates claims, “You will find that hybris and a lack of ­self-­control are the cause of bad things but sōphrosynē the cause of the good. You praise it in individuals, and you think those who practice it live most safely and are the best of the citizens” (8.119). And, to Timotheus, the ruler of Heracleia Pontica, “You ought to seek . . . ​how you will direct the citizens to productive work and sōphrosynē and how you will make them live more pleasantly and more confidently” (Epist. 7.3). And, again to his fellow citizens, “Those 48

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who intend to have eudaimonia must have proper respect for the gods, sōphrosynē, justice, and the rest of virtue” (8.63).

on good thinking (Φρόνησις) There is no one who does not give preference, in human practices, to proper respect concerning the gods, justice concerning men, and good thinking concerning other activities. (12.204) Attend to all things concerning life, but especially train your ability to think well. A good mind in a human body is the greatest thing in the smallest. (1.40) It does not exist in the nature of humans to get the true knowledge by which we might know what must be done or said. I consider wise those who are able by their own conjectures to attain, for the most part, what is best, and I consider philosophers those who spend time in those activities from which they will most quickly acquire such good thinking. (15.271) High on the list of Isocrates’ virtues is good thinking. He uses approvingly the phrase “those who think well” at least thirty times in his ­writings, sometimes saying they would agree with him (5.89, 13.14), sometimes directing rhetorical questions to them (3.16, 7.54, 10.10, 12.214), most often telling them what it is necessary or fitting to do (4.107, 6.34, 7.31, 8.35, 11.15, 12.112, 230, 14.23, 15.165, 280, Epist. 7.4). Among those who, in Isocrates’ opinion, shared this virtue were Theseus (12.127), Heracles(!) (5.110), Nestor (6.19, 12.72), Agamemnon(!) (12.81), the Athenian ancestors (12.143, 151, 161, 164, 15.308), Evagoras (9.41, 65), Agesilaus (5.86, Epist. 9.4), Philip (Epist. 5.5), and, of course, Isocrates himself (5.82, 12.136, Epist. 2.22). Those who should have it include generals (12.143, 15.117), teachers (12.28, 15.226), and students (12.230, 15.220). And, like justice and sōphrosynē, good thinking is not attainable by the lowly (12.­71–­72). But even dogs, horses, and most other animals might be taught “to think better” (15.211). “Thinking well” is the product of nous, in Isocrates apparently primarily the mind. Those with a good mind or who have a mind think well (1.40, 9.7). Contrasted with “those who think well” are those “lacking nous” (2.14, 4.48, 5.18, 8.13, 15.72). But the soul is involved, too. A person’s soul may be characterized as “thinking well” (4.48, 15.81, 182). 49

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*  *  * Good thinking involves primarily practical, not abstract subjects. Some say “no such education has been discovered by which someone might become either more clever in the use of language or better thinking concerning actions” (15.197). “To speak as is necessary”—​­that is, “to speak well according to the circumstances”—​­Isocrates considers “the greatest sign of good thinking” (15.255). “I see some of those so perfected in their lessons that they even teach others, but they do not use at the right times the knowledge that they have and in other activities concerning life are less well thinking than their students” (12.28). The “greatest sign of Theseus’s virtue and good thinking” was his action, to give up his kingship and pursue an undying reputation through his labors (12.­127–­128). And Evagoras did not think that as king “he should be neglectful or act offhandedly in public affairs but should spend most of his time in inquiring and thinking and planning. He believed that if he trained well his thinking, his kingship also would be good” (9.41). “How might anyone demonstrate more clearly Evagoras’s courage or good thinking or all his virtue than through his deeds and the dangers he faced?” (9.65). Good thinking leads to good planning, and in this ­good-­thinking advisers are a must. Agamemnon’s good thinking was demonstrated in the fact that to his soldiers “he seemed to plan better about the safety of others than they could about their own” (12.82). In a democracy the citizens “use as advisers the boldest of the citizens,” but monarchs use “those who think best” (3.21). By contrast the Athenian ancestors, who thought well, “were making as their advisers and their leaders not chance people but those who were best and best thinking and who lived their lives best” (12.143, 151). And in private matters some by planning well and with good thinking “acquired great wealth and good reputations” (12.196), and “­sensible people commonly share those matters about which they are serious especially with those who think better than they do” (12.235). Isocrates has the young Spartan Archidamus claim to his elders that “we do not differ from one another in good thinking by our number of years but by our inborn nature and the attention we pay to it” (6.4). Elsewhere Isocrates emphasizes not inborn nature but education, training, practice, and hard work. “Do not think that careful attention is useful in other matters but does not have any power in regard to us becoming better and able to think better” (2.12). Our ancestors left for us two practices, physical training for the bodies and philosophy for the souls. “Through them teachers make souls more thoughtful and bodies more useful” (15.­181–­182). Isocrates wonders at those who, “knowing that all 50

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activities and skills are acquired by careful attention and hard work, then think that these things have no power in respect to the training of good thinking” (15.209). “There is no one of you who would not be able to tell of many of those who were educated with them who, when they were children, seemed to be the most unlearned of their peers but becoming older surpassed in thinking and speaking these same ones to whom they were inferior when they were children. From this, one can understand what power careful attention has. As children all were using the thought processes they were born with, but when they became men they excelled these and changed their thinking. Their peers lived a dissolute and lazy life, but they directed their minds to their affairs and themselves” (15.207). “It seems to me that all men desire what is beneficial and to have more than others, but they do not know the actions that lead to this. They differ in their opinions. Some have opinions that are good and aim for what is necessary. Others’ opinions completely miss what is beneficial. . . . “Since we do not see clearly what is always going to be beneficial, those who think well must appear to be choosing what many times brings benefit” (8.28, 8.35). “Those who think well ought not to deliberate about things that they ­know—​­for that is ­superfluous—​­but ought to act as they understand the situation. But in those matters about which they deliberate they ought not to think they know what the result will be; they ought to think about them as if they were employing opinion but are ignorant of what may happen” (8.8). “Humans’ nature excels other animals and the Greek race excels the barbarians by having been better educated in respect to thinking and language” (15.294). “Men who think best and are most gentle differ from the beasts that are the most wild and most savage” (12.121). Our Athenian ancestors “excelled and stood out not only by their noble births and reputations but also by their thinking and speaking” (15.308). “The more vigorously a person disrespects the foolishness of others, the more he will train his own thought process” (15.72). “We make speaking the greatest indicator of thinking well. Speech that is true, just, and in accordance with traditions is an image of a good and trustworthy soul” (3.7). “In other activities fortunes are so confused that many times in them those who think well fail and the foolish succeed, but the lowly have no share in speeches that are beautiful and skillfully made. They are the product of a soul thinking well” (4.48). 51

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on wisdom (Σοφία) Wisdom alone of possessions is immortal. (1.19) Do not think wise those who argue minutely about small things but those who speak about the greatest matters; not those who promise eudaimonia to others but are themselves in much need, but rather those who speak moderately about themselves and are able to deal with events and people and are not thrown into confusion in the changes of life but know how to bear well and moderately both misfortunes and successes. (2.39) Wisdom waxes less large in Isocrates’ writings than one might expect. He uses the term infrequently, primarily in discourses to his fellow Athenians, and, surprisingly, only twice in his moral essays, in the quotations above. He explicitly attributes wisdom to only two individuals, Homer (13.2) and Pericles (15.111). He does include it in a traditional list of virtues, but mostly in Encomium of Helen (10.1, 21, 54. Also 9.23, 12.228, 15.111). He employs it in a transition to a discussion of p ­ hilosophy—​­that is from σοφία to φιλοσοφία (15.­270–­271)—​­and in criticisms of sophists (σοφισταί, 2.39, 13.7); in both cases the etymological link may have determined his word choice. Sometimes he uses “wisdom” simply positively, as in 1.19, 9.23, and 15.47, but often in a derogatory or sarcastic context, of those who “claim” wisdom or “take pride” in it (8.52, 55, 12.118, 15.200, and perhaps 11.24, 15.312). It would appear that in Isocrates’ moral view “good thinking” has largely replaced “wisdom” as the prime intellectual virtue.

on courage (Ἀνδρεία) Try to preserve safety for yourself and for your city, but if you are forced to face danger, choose to die well rather than to live shamefully. (2.36) For the lowly the end of life must be frightening, but for the serious a lack of reputation in life must be frightening. Try especially to live safely, but if you ever happen to face danger, seek the safety from war that is attended by a good reputation, not by a shameful one. Destiny condemns all to die but gives to serious men as their special thing to die well. (1.43) 52

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Some private citizens are willing to die so that they may be praised after they die. (2.36) For Isocrates “courage” or “manliness” is always in the context of the dangers of war. It is the product of education and training (12.217, 16.27). Heracles had it; Theseus had it, and the Spartans have it (5.109, 10.31, 12.217, 258). Attica bears and raises men excelling in it (7.74), and those Athenian ancestors who fought the Persians demonstrated it in a high degree (12.197, 16.27). The Persians do not have it (4.­145–­146). Lowly, ignorant, and evil men might have it, men who do not share in eloquence and in the higher virtues of justice and sōphrosynē (3.43, 4.­48–­49, 12.198). Upon hearing that Philip had been injured in battle, Isocrates advises him “not to be concerned with the reputation that comes from courage, which many Greeks and barbarians have . . . ,” especially from “the courage that arises from a lack of reason and an untimely love of honor” (Epist. 2.3, 9). And here, again, as in his advice to Demonicus and Nicocles (1.43, 2.36, above), showing courage is largely a matter of reputation.

on gentleness (Πραότ ης) I see that harshness is painful for both those who have it and those who encounter it, but gentleness is in good repute so far as it concerns not only humans and other animals but also those gods called Olympian who are the cause of good things for us. (5.­116–­117) Isocrates admires and promotes gentleness in monarchs, governments, and language (2.8, 23, 3.16, 12.95, 15.70). He contrasts it to harshness (χαλεπότης), animalistic ferocity (ἀγριότης), and savagery (ὠμότης). (E.g., 2.23, 3.55, 4.102, 5.116, 9.67, 12.121, 15.214.) In a political context it involves making punishments less than the crimes being punished and the avoidance of exilings, killings, or losses of property, whether caused by a monarch or a ruling state (2.23, 3.32). It is characteristic of d ­ emocracy—​­the very name “democracy” is, in fact, “most gentle” (7.20)—​­and of Greeks as opposed to barbarians (9.49 and 67), and of Athenians in general but also specifically as opposed to Lacedaemonians and Thebans (4.102, 7.20, 67, 12.56, 121, 14.17, 15.20, 300). Those who had this virtue include Theseus, from whom the Athenians inherited it (10.37), the mythical Egyptian king Busiris (11.6), and Clearchus, but only so long as he was Isocrates’ student (Epist. 7.12). 53

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Isocrates urges it on the young king Nicocles, (2.8, 23, 15.70), and he has Nicocles claim he has it (3.32). And Isocrates can refer sarcastically to the gentleness of the Thirty Tyrants (7.67).

on love of honor (Φιλοτιμία) I know that good and noble men do not pride themselves so much on the beauty of their bodies as they desire honor for their deeds and good thinking. (9.74) I believe that all who seek honor desire the ability to speak and think well. (15.244) [The Athenians’ ancestors] were not so proud of their dynastic powers as they sought honor for living with sōphrosynē. (4.81) We will find that ­great-­hearted and ­honor-­desiring men . . . ​choose death with good fame over life and are more serious about their reputations than about their lives. They do everything they can to leave behind an undying memory of themselves. (9.3) Philotimia, etymologically “love of honor,” often, in fact usually, morphs into “desire of honor” and even “feeling honor.” In Isocrates’ worldview one may feel it for one’s own accomplishments (3.40, 9.74, 12.256, 15.141), for those of one’s ancestors (8.41, 14.53), for braving dangers and death in wars (4.51, 9.3, 18.61), for one’s personal reputation or that of the city (8.93), for service to the Greeks (4.51), and most ­commonly—​­not surprisingly so in ­Isocrates—​­for a moral life (2.30, 4.81, 6.35, 8.90, 9.5) or oratorical abilities (10.2, 15.244, 275, 277, Epist. 1.5). People in general and individuals may have it, but in particular the Athenians and Lacedaemonians as groups (4.81, 85, 8.41, 90, 93, 12.256, 14.53, 15.226). Kings (3.46, 5.106), young people (9.5), writers (10.2), and even athletes and spectators in Panhellenic games may have it. Isocrates offers a nice description of the last: “With the Greeks collected together, it was possible for exceptional persons to show off their skills and successes and for private individuals to watch them competing against one another. Neither group was dispirited, but each had that at which it could feel honor, the private individuals when they see the athletes laboring on their behalf and the athletes when they realize that all have come to see them” (4.44). 54

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Philotimia is usually good, leading people to good actions, but it can be untimely (Epist. 2.9). There is a competitive element to it that can lead to good results, as in the Athenians’ rivalry with the Lacedaemonians at the time of the Persian Wars (4.85), or to bad ones, as when citizens compete against one another in oligarchies and democracies (3.18). Homeric heroes suffered from what might be called bad philotimia (12.81), and Isocrates’ critics felt philotimia for “small things” (Epist. 9.15).

on reputation (Δόξα) Our Athenian and Lacedaemonian ancestors . . . ​thought that the person possessed the most secure and best wealth who did those things from which he himself was going to have an especially good reputation and would leave this behind for his children. (4.76) What deeds or labors or dangers did our ancestors avoid so as to have a good reputation while living, men who were so readily willing to die for the reputation that they would have after they died? (4.83) It is a finer thing to exchange a mortal body for an immortal reputation and to buy with a life that we will not have in a few years a fame that will remain for our descendants for all time. (6.109) To seem to be a good and noble person not only makes one’s words more trustworthy but also makes the deeds of the one who has such a reputation more honored. Those who think well ought to be more serious about their reputation than about all other things. (15.280) To judge from his writings, Isocrates’ highest aspirations would have been for eudaimonia in this life and, after his death, for an everlasting, immortal reputation for virtue and courage. He addresses no topic more frequently than a good reputation, whether of himself, his writings, his students, heroes and ancestors of the past, his city, other Greek cities, or the Greeks in general. He occasionally, as we have seen, views the virtues of justice and sōphrosynē as valuable in themselves but also as means to a good reputation. Often the flow of argument suggests, though it is nowhere made explicit, that the ultimate goal is the good reputation. The virtues are desirable and praised, but in the end it is the good reputation that counts most. Reputation depends on appearances, not necessarily realities. The 55

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Greek word Isocrates uses for “reputation,” δόξα, is derived from a stem of “seeming,” and by its nature contributes to the importance of appearances. No doubt Isocrates would prefer his advisees both “be” and “seem” virtuous (e.g., 1.5, 7), but to develop a good reputation, the ultimate goal, the “seeming” is the more necessary. Isocrates’ discussions of and references to “good reputation” are too numerous and widespread to be summarized h ­ ere—​­a book would be required. I offer, by way of introduction, a selection of the appeals to reputation and honor that Isocrates makes to Philip in his attempts to persuade him to lead the Greeks in an expedition against the king of Persia. They are, of course, conditioned by being made to a king, a king who was the most powerful figure in the Greek world at the time, but I will attempt to balance this by some following quotations drawn from other situations and other works. Other references to reputation concerning Isocrates’ own life and to a wide variety of people, cities, and situations will be found throughout this book and are collected in the general index. In three writings, To Philip (5), of 346  BCE, Epist. 2, of 342  BCE, and Epist. 3, of 338 BCE, Isocrates makes his appeals to Philip. “Insatiability in anything else is not good because moderation has a good reputation among the many. But it is fitting for those far superior to others to desire and never have their fill of a good and fine reputation. And that is true of you. Believe that then you will have a reputation that is unsurpassable and worthy of your accomplishments when you force the barbarians to serve the Greeks as helots . . . ​and when you make the one now called ‘the Great King’ do whatever you order” (Epist. 3.­4–­5). “Desire not the kind of reputation that many Greeks and barbarians have but one so great that you alone of those living today could acquire it” (Epist. 2.10). “Who of those who can reason even moderately well would not advise you to choose those actions that can simultaneously bring forth like fruits both extraordinary pleasures and indelible honors? . . . “You ought not to scorn the multitudes or think it a small thing to have a good reputation among all the people. Only when you make the Greeks feel toward you as the Lacedaemonians do toward their kings or your Companions do toward you, only then ought you to think you have a good and great reputation and one that befits you and your ancestors and what you all have accomplished. . . . “I make my arguments not looking to the acquisition of power and wealth but thinking that from them you will have the greatest and finest reputation. Consider that we all have bodies that are mortal, but through 56

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goodwill, praise, reports, and the memory that follows through time we have a share of immortality. It is worth suffering anything in striving after that as much as we can. You could see that even the best private individuals would exchange life for no other thing but are willing to die in wars for the sake of getting a good reputation. In general, those who desire honor that is greater than what they have are praised by all men. . . . ​But most important, it often happens that our enemies get control of our wealth and power, but no others except our descendants inherit the goodwill we have from our fellow countrymen” (5.71, 5.­79–­80, 5.­134–­136). “Consider how it is worthwhile for you to attempt such deeds by which, if you succeed in them, you will establish your reputation to rival those who have been the foremost in history, and if you fail in your expectation, at least you will acquire goodwill from the Greeks. It is much better to acquire this than to take many Greek cities by force” (5.68; cf. Epist. 2.21). “You ought not to make wars that are difficult and bring no good reputation when you can make those that are easy and bring honor” (Epist. 2.11). “All men honor and admire especially those who are able to be both statesmen and generals. . . . “The divine is concerned with Greece and wants to free it from its present evils and to give you, Philip, a reputation much greater than you already have” (5.140, 5.149). “We know that the most famous and best Greek heroes at Troy held kingships in little cities and on little islands, but still they left behind a ­god-­equal reputation that is famous among all people. That is because all love not those who have acquired very great power for themselves but those who have been responsible for the most good things for the Greeks. . . . “You ought to honor all those who say something good about what you have accomplished, but you ought to think that those best praise you who think your nature worthy of greater deeds than you have done, not only those who speak pleasingly now but also those who make those who come afterward admire your deeds as they will of no one else of those who lived before” (5.145, 5.153). An eternal good reputation might be sought or acquired not only by kings such as Philip and Nicocles (2.32, 37) and heroic figures of the remote past such as Heracles, Helen, and Theseus (1.8, 10.17), but also by the Athenian victors in the Persian Wars (4.76, 84, 8.94), those who now are willing to attack Persia (4.186), and even by an individual such as Demonicus (1.38). 57

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Isocrates praises his Athenian ancestors for their good reputation for virtue (4.­83–­84, 8.­93–­94, 141). Isocrates has King Nicocles urge his subjects to pursue such a reputation and claim that he himself deserves it (3.30, 43, 50). Heracles and Theseus earned such a good reputation for their virtue that what they did will never be forgotten (1.8). And, less in terms of eternity, it is good to be “looked at” and “crowded around by all”—​­that is, to be a celebrity because of one’s virtue (6.95, 8.141). For the average person it may be enough to have a reputation for being a good and noble person (15.­278–­280), but Isocrates values highest a good reputation for justice and sōphrosynē; the other virtues might be demonstrated even by lowly people (1.38, 3.­29–­30, 37, 43, 6.107, Epist. 2.10). But a good reputation for bravery in battle is also valued. Isocrates advises Demonicus, “If you ever happen to face danger, seek the safety from war that is attended by a good reputation, not by a shameful one. Destiny condemns all to die but gives to serious men as their special thing to die well” (1.43). Athenian ancestors had such a reputation (4.77, ­83–­84, 95). Not surprisingly Isocrates gives to the Spartan prince Archidamus the fullest statement of the need even to die to preserve one’s own and one’s city’s good reputation in battle and war (6.12, ­89–­94, 109).

on wealth If you passionately desire money and greater power and the dangers by which they are acquired, summon different advisers. ( Epist. 7.7) Consider it more important to leave a good reputation than great wealth to your children. Wealth is mortal, but reputation is immortal. Money can be acquired by a good reputation, but a good reputation cannot be bought with money. Even lowly people have money, but only the exceptional can acquire a good reputation. (2.32) Consider profitable those things by which you will have a good reputation but not those by which you will have a lot of money. (1.21) Wealth serves evil more than goodness. It creates license for laziness and lures the young to pleasures. (1.6) “Accept just poverty more than unjust wealth. Justice is better than money in that money benefits only the living but justice creates a good reputation 58

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even for those who have died. Even lowly people have money, but they cannot share in justice. Do not envy anyone of those who profit from injustice, but rather applaud those who suffer loss while being just” (1.­38–­39). “It is worthwhile emulating . . . ​those who choose a moderate life with justice over great wealth with injustice” (8.93). Our Athenian and Lacedaemonian ancestors “were not judging eudaimonia by money, but they thought that the person possessed the most secure and best wealth who did those things from which he himself was going to get an especially good reputation and would leave that behind for his children” (4.76). “Do not be eager to be wealthy rather than to appear good, knowing that the Greeks and barbarians who have the greatest reputations for virtue become masters of the most good things. Think that making money contrary to justice will create not wealth but danger. Do not think that acquiring is profit but spending is loss. Neither of these has always the same power, but whichever comes at the right moment and with virtue benefits those who do it” (3.50). “Nothing good or bad occurs by itself for humans, but folly and its attendant lack of restraint follow wealth and power” (7.4). “We are so dependent on hopes and insatiable in regard to apparent advantages that even those who have the greatest wealth are not content with that but by always striving for more endanger what they have” (8.7). “Leave public service not wealthier but with a better reputation. Praise from many is better than a lot of money” (1.37). Hipponicus, the father of Demonicus, “did not love wealth in an inappropriate way but enjoyed his present good things like a mortal and took care of what he had as if he were immortal. . . . “Honor your existing property for two reasons: to be able to pay a large fine and to help a serious man who is a friend and is suffering misfortune. But in respect to the rest of your life, do not love your property at all excessively but moderately” (1.9, 1.28). “Do not swear by any god concerning money matters even if you intend to keep your oath. You will seem to some people to be keeping an oath but to others to be ­money-­loving” (1.23). “If some who inherited great wealth from their ancestors should be of no use to the city but treat insultingly their fellow citizens and shamefully their children and wives, is there anyone who would dare to criticize those responsible for the wealth but not think it right to punish the evildoers themselves? What if some who learned to fight in armor should not use their knowledge against the enemy but should cause a revolt and kill 59

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many of the citizens, or if some having been taught as well as possible to box and fight and wrestle should neglect the athletic contests but assault those they met? Who would not praise the teachers of these but kill those who used badly what they learned?” (15.­251–­252). “Do not emulate those who possess the most but those who know they have done nothing evil. Someone with such a soul could most pleasantly spend his life” (3.59). “Consider many of my precepts worth more than a lot of money. Money is quickly lost, but the precepts remain with you for all time” (1.19).

on beauty and love Beauty is the most revered, honored, and divine of all things. It is easy to understand its power. (10.54) In his eulogy of Helen of Troy (10) Isocrates sings the praises of beauty. “We will find that nothing lacking beauty is loved, but all things except those that share this outward appearance are scorned. Virtue because of its beauty has an especially good reputation because it is the most beautiful of practices. Someone can know how much beauty excels all other things from how we are disposed to each of them. We want only to acquire the other things that we need but experience no further feeling about them in our souls. But passion for the beautiful occurs in us with a force of will as much greater as beauty itself is greater. We feel ill will toward those who excel in intelligence or in some other thing if they do not try to win us over by doing good things for us each day and do not force us to be fond of them. But as soon as we see beautiful people, we feel w ­ ell-­intentioned toward them and do not decline to serve them alone as if they were gods. We more happily serve them like slaves than rule over others. . . . ​We criticize and call fawners those who are subject to some other power, but we consider those who serve beauty lovers of beauty and lovers of labor. We treat a beautiful outward appearance with such respect and solicitude that we hold in greater dishonor those beautiful persons who trade in and plan badly about this time of their life than those who do violence against others. But those who guard this time of their life and make it, like a sanctuary, inaccessible to the wicked we honor in the future just as those who have brought some benefit to the whole city. “And need I spend time telling the opinions of men? Zeus, who rules all things, demonstrates his power in other things but thinks it right to 60

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approach beauty humbly. In the likeness of Amphitryon he came to Alcmene, as a shower of gold he mated with Danaē, as a swan he found refuge in the bosom of Nemesis, and, again as a swan, he wedded Leda. He appears to have hunted such women with artifice, not with violence. Beauty has been so much more honored among the gods than among us that they even have had sympathy for their wives who were overpowered by it, and someone could show many goddesses who were overcome by mortal beauty. None of them sought to conceal what had happened as if it were shameful, but, as if what they had done was good, they wanted it to be celebrated in song rather than kept quiet. And the greatest proof of what I have been saying is that we would find more who have become immortal because of their beauty than because of all the other virtues” (10.­54–­60).

on health and strength Practice those physical exercises that are directed not toward strength but health. This you can attain if you stop when you are still able to work more. (1.14) With your body try to be ­labor-­loving, but with your soul philosophical, so that with your body you are able to complete what you have decided on and with your soul you know how to foresee what is beneficial. (1.40) We take the most care of our health when we remember the pains that arise from sickness. (1.35) “Strength with good thinking is beneficial but without it harms more those who have it. It makes the bodies of those who train look good but overshadows the care of the soul” (1.6). “Many and all kinds of treatments of diseases of the body have been discovered by physicians, but for souls that are ignorant and full of evil desires there is no other drug except discourses that dare to criticize wrongs committed. And it is ridiculous to endure the cauterizations and cuttings of physicians in order to be free of pains but to reject arguments before knowing clearly if they have the power to benefit the listeners” (8.­39–­40). “Even if the athletes acquired twice as much strength as they have, there would be no gain for others, but all who wish to share in his way of thought might draw benefit from one man who has thought well” (4.2). 61

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“Cities do not see that the abilities of strength and speed die with the body but knowledge remains for all time benefitting those who use it” (Epist. 8.5). “Evagoras as a boy had beauty, strength, and sōphrosynē, the most fitting of the good things for those of such an age” (9.2). “Egyptian priests invented medical assistance for bodies, one that does not use dangerous drugs but only those that are as safe as everyday food” (11.22).

on friends and friendships True friendship seeks three things especially: virtue as a good thing, intimacy as a pleasant one, and utility as a necessary one. You must judge and accept a person, enjoy being with him, and use him when you are in need. (frag. 33 Mathieu/Brémond) It is most pleasant and profitable of all things to possess friends who are at the same time trustworthy and useful. ( Epist. 4.9) “Make no one your friend until you examine how he has treated his previous friends. Expect him to be such concerning you as he has been concerning them. Become a friend slowly, but when you have, try to continue the friendship. . . . ​Don’t test your friends with something that can harm them, but don’t not test your companions. You can do this if, when you don’t need something, you pretend to need it. And share things that have been openly said as if they are secrets. If you fail, you will have lost nothing; if you succeed, you will know better their character. Test your friends in the misfortunes of life and the sharing of dangers. We test gold in fire, and we judge friends in misfortunes. And, therefore, you will treat your friends best if you do not wait for requests from them but volunteer to help them in crises. Consider it equally shameful to be bested by your enemies in doing wrongs and to be outdone by your friends in good services. Accept those companions who not only are upset at your reverses but also do not feel an envious ill will at your good things. Many grieve with their friends who suffer misfortune but feel ill will when they are faring well. Remember your absent friends to your present ones so that you may seem not to neglect them when they are absent” (1.­24–­26). “Lowly people honor their friends only when they are present, but the serious love them even when they are far away. A short time dissolves the 62

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intimacies of the lowly, but not even all eternity could wipe out the friendships of the serious. . . . “It is fitting for children, just as they inherit their father’s property, also to inherit their father’s friendships. . . . “Say something good about those whom you wish to make friends to those who will report it. Praise is the beginning of friendship; censure, the beginning of hatred. . . . “In matters that you are ashamed to speak of openly but want to share with some friends, speak as though it is about someone else’s matter. So you will learn their opinion and will not reveal yourself ” (1.1,1.2, 1.33, 1.35).

on manners Be friendly in your manner and affable. Characteristic of friendliness is to address those you meet, of affability to speak in an intimate way with them. Be pleasant toward all but cultivate the best people. Then you will not be disliked by the one group and will become a friend to the other. (1.20) “Be affable to those who approach you, not haughty. Even slaves would endure with difficulty the pomp of those who are supercilious, but all happily bear the character of the affable. And you will be affable if you are not quarrelsome or hard to please or contentious toward all, and if you do not respond harshly to the anger of those who meet you, even if they are unjustly angry, but if you thoughtfully yield to them, criticizing them when they have stopped from their anger” (1.31). “Accustom yourself to be not sullen but thoughtful. For the former you will seem to be stubborn, but for the latter ­good-­thinking. . . . “Consider in your mind beforehand everything you are going to say. For many people the tongue runs ahead of thought. Have two occasions of speaking: either about things that you know clearly or about things about which it is necessary to speak. In these alone is speech better than silence, and in the others it is better to be silent than to speak” (1.15, 1.41). “Don’t be fond of rash laughter, and don’t accept brash language. The one is manic, the other foolish. . . . “Do not be serious in funny situations or enjoy laughter in serious situations. . . . “Do not give favors ­ ungraciously—​­ which many ­ do—​­ serving your 63

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friends but doing it unhappily. Do not love to make accusations, because that is annoying, or love to criticize, because that is irritating” (1.15, 1.31). “Do not have frequent encounters with the same people or long ones about the same things because there is satiety in all things. . . . “Tell no one about secrets unless it is equally beneficial that these matters be kept quiet for you the one telling them and for the ones hearing them. . . . “Love beauty in your dress, but don’t be a dandy. A grandeur of spirit is a mark of one who loves beauty; excess, of a dandy. . . . “Be especially careful about gatherings over drinks. If the opportunity ever comes, leave before you get drunk. When the mind is corrupted by wine, it experiences the same thing as chariots that have lost their charioteers” (1.20, 1.22, 1.27, 1.32).

on the serious and the lowly (Οἱ Σπουδαῖοι and Οἱ Φαῦλοι) Those who strive after a good reputation and education should be imitators of the serious, not of the lowly. (1.2) Late in his life Isocrates was pleased that he was “not one of the scorned or neglected people, but one of those whom the most cultivated Greeks would mention and talk about as being serious” (12.8). Throughout his writings Isocrates contrasts the serious and the lowly. The distinction is, for Isocrates, a matter of habits and character, of good birth, good education, good thinking, and speaking ability (1.4, 4.48, 12.­110–­112, 16.23). The serious will strive for the virtues that the lowly cannot attain, especially justice and the resulting undying good reputation (1.38, 2.32, 12.71, Epist. 2.10). Making money is for the lowly, not for those with higher values (1.38, 2.32). The lowly would prefer raising racehorses (16.33). Reputation is key to the distinction between the two groups. The lowly fear death, but for the serious the greatest fear is a bad reputation in life, and to die well, especially in battle, with its resulting praise and good reputation is unique to the serious (1.43, 5.135). The lowly do whatever comes along, and that is the underlying principle of their lives, but “the serious cannot neglect virtue because they have many to criticize them” (1.48). The serious love their friends even when they are far away and have lasting friendships; the lowly honor friends only when they are present, and their friendships are brief (1.1). “A favor stored up with a serious man is a good treasure” (1.29). 64

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And “all cultivated men praise and honor those who associate well with serious men” (Epist. 4.9). Lowly people speak hybristically not only about the best men but also about the gods (16.23). Lowly private citizens are those who succeed in a few things but err in many (7.72). For lowly people “successes conceal their wickedness, but failures quickly reveal what kind of people they are” (6.102). Serious people can also sometimes fail. “A good pilot sometimes shipwrecks, and a serious man sometimes suffers misfortunes” (frag. 26 Mathieu/ Brémond; cf. 12.185). A serious man might be defeated in a way that is beneficial, but lowly is the man who wins while causing harm to himself (2.25). But, Isocrates has his student claim, it might be imagined that the man thought lowly and scorned might give the best advice to the city (12.248). And perhaps even the gods make the distinction. “If a mortal must guess at the thinking of the gods, I believe even they in their most domestic situations revealed how they are disposed to lowly and serious humans. Zeus begot Heracles and Tantalus, as the myths tell us and all believe. Heracles he made immortal because of his virtue, but Tantalus he punished with the greatest punishments because of his evil character” (1.50).

on religion Fear the gods; honor parents; have a sense of shame before friends, and obey the laws. (1.16) Do the things concerning the gods as your ancestors showed you. And consider it is the best sacrifice and the greatest service to them if you make yourself as good and just as possible. Expect that such people, more than those killing lots of sacrificial animals, will get something good from the gods. (2.20) We show proper respect concerning the gods and practice justice and the other virtues not in order that we may have less than others but in order that we may live our lives with the most good things. (3.2) You ought to believe that those who are most respectful of the gods and most diligent concerning their worship have more now and will gain more from them. (15.282) 65

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Those who live with proper respect for the gods and with justice live their lives in safety in the present and have sweeter hopes for all eternity. (8.34) Here and throughout this book I translate the Greek eusebeia as “proper respect for the gods” and hosiotēs as “religious correctness” with necessary adaptations for their cognates. Eusebeia is often translated by o­ thers as “piety,” a misleading and anachronistic term, and hosiotēs as “holiness,” equally mistaken. The former is more a mental attitude that leads to proper religious actions; the latter a judgment of the actions themselves, and the terms are employed to describe somewhat distinct but sometimes overlapping elements of religious behavior.2

on proper respect and lack of respect for the gods (Εὐσέβεια and Ἀσέβεια) First show proper respect in matters concerning the gods, both by sacrificing and by keeping your oaths. Sacrificing is a sign of wealth, but keeping an oath is evidence of a good character. Always honor the divine but especially together with your city, because then you will appear to be, at the same time, sacrificing to the gods and abiding by the laws. (1.13) Consider nothing of more importance, second only to proper respect concerning the gods, than having a good reputation among the Greeks. (8.135) Isocrates puts “proper respect for the gods” among the virtues and often links it with justice (3.2, 8.­33–­35, 12.124, 183, 217). Sometimes he adds a third virtue, practical wisdom, as either sōphrosynē (8.63) or good thinking (12.204, 217). In such listings proper respect for the gods always comes first. The Athenians of yore, of course, practiced it: “They always showed proper respect toward the gods and justice toward men” (12.124; cf. 4.33). And their “proper respect for the gods resided not in extravagant expenses but in not disturbing any of those things that their ancestors handed down to them. Therefore what came from the gods for them happened not surprisingly or chaotically but in a timely way for both the working of the land and the gathering of the crops” (7.30; cf. 2.20). Isocrates, like most Greek authors, dwells more on violations of proper respect for the gods than on demonstrations of it, but he does offer three 66

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examples apart from his Athenian forefathers: Theseus twice, in accepting the supplications of Adrastus for the recovery of the Argive dead at Thebes, and of the sons of Heracles for their safety (10.31); and Evagoras, who, unlike Cyrus, acquired his kingship without having to commit crimes like killing his grandfather (9.­38–­39). Evagoras had only to destroy his enemies, which is permissible in religious terms. For Isocrates, as for many Greeks, the Persians were the prime example of those who demonstrated lack of respect for the gods. In the Persian War of 4­ 80–­479 BCE, “they dared to steal the statues of our gods and rob and burn down our temples.” Isocrates praises the Ionians “who, after their sanctuaries were burned, put a curse on any who wished to disturb or restore them to their original condition. The Ionians wanted them “to be for their descendants a memorial of the barbarians’ lack of respect for the gods, so that no one would trust those who dare to commit such wrongs against the sacred things of the gods.” The Persians made war “not only on our persons but also on our sacred dedications to the gods” (4.­155–­156; cf. 4.96). Eighty years later the Persian king Artaxerxes II deceived the Greek mercenaries supporting Cyrus in his rebellion, luring the Greek generals to a meeting with a false oath and killing them (­402–­401 BCE). In Isocrates’ brief account, Artaxerxes “chose more to commit a wrong against the gods” than to fight against the Greeks (5.91, 4.147). Greeks, too, could commit such acts. For Isocrates those who have proper respect for the gods “keep away from the dedications in the sanctuaries” (12.163), and he can have a prosecutor in court remind the Athenians that “when they condemn someone of stealing from a sanctuary or theft, they make the punishment not according to the magnitude of what he has stolen but they condemn all equally to death” (20.6). Isocrates would also have showing lack of respect for the gods those poets who tell and those who believe what he considers blasphemous stories about the gods: “The poets have told such stories about the gods themselves that no one would dare to tell about his enemies. Not only did they impute to them stealings and adulteries and slavelike service to men, but they even wrote about eating of children, emasculation of fathers, enchaining of mothers, and many other illegal acts. For these the poets did not pay the deserved punishment. Still, they did not escape unpunished. Some wandered as beggars and were in need of everyday things. Some were blinded. Another was exiled from his country and spent all his remaining time at war with his closest kin. Orpheus, who especially laid his hand to such stories, ended his life torn to bits. And so, if we have sōphrosynē, we will not imitate their stories . . . , but we will be on our guard 67

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and think that those who say such things and those who believe them equally lack respect for the gods” (11.­38–­40). Punishment from the gods for acts of lack of respect might come late, or, as Isocrates claims in 8.120, “a man who lacks respect for the gods and is wicked might even die before he pays the penalty for the wrongs he committed, but cities because of their immortality endure punishments from both men and gods.” In this the Egyptians are superior to the Greeks. They have created such a culture of proper respect for the gods that “even the oaths taken in their sanctuaries are more trustworthy than others’ oaths, and each Egyptian believes that he will immediately pay the penalty for wrongs committed and that he will not escape attention in the present, nor will the punishments be put off onto his children.” Those Egyptians in charge of religious matters have created the belief that “divine caretaking and punishments are more precise than they really turn out to be.” And that, in Isocrates’ view, is good. By creating this fear, the Egyptians “have been responsible for humans not behaving completely animalistically toward one another” (11.­24–­25).

on religious correctness (Ὁσιότ ης) Nothing said or done without justice is either religiously correct or good. (12.187) Those most religiously correct and most just actually do get more of the good, not of the bad, things. (15.284) Isocrates has the Plataeans, in their requests to Athens for help against their neighboring Thebans in 373 BCE, appeal to the religious correctness of the Athenians, apparently in the context of granting the supplications of those who are suffering great injustices and who have had a close, almost familial relationship with the Athenians. If the Athenians accede to their requests, “all men will think that you Athenians are the most just and religiously correct of the Greeks” (14.­1–­2). The Athenians ought to “force the Thebans to imitate their religious correctness,” and the context suggests that they should force the Thebans to abide by the oaths that formed the treaty that should have protected the Plataeans (14.­22–­23). It is in the same context of abiding by oaths and treaties that the Plataeans later urge on the Athenians the value of administering Greece more religiously correctly and more gently (14.39). 68

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In his eulogy of Evagoras, king of Cyprian Salamis from 411 to 374 BCE, Isocrates offers as the “greatest evidence of his character and religious correctness” the secure refuge he offered to many individuals like the Athenian general Conon (9.­51–­52). Isocrates also praises, as done in a religiously correct and just manner, how Evagoras established his kingship not by killing relatives, as Cyrus had done, but by killing only his enemies (9.38). Evagoras was able to attain his rule by acting only religiously correctly and justly (9.­25–­26). Isocrates has also Evagoras’s son Nicocles claim that he himself “holds the kingship in a religiously correct and just manner” (3.13; cf. 3.32). Isocrates links a lack of religious correctness particularly to those who kill or maltreat family members or other protected groups. Unlike his Athenian ancestors, those of other cities “who excelled in violating religious correctness” murdered their brothers and fathers and xenoi, killed mothers, practiced incest, plotted against family members, ate their own children, exposed them, and performed drownings and blindings, all the stuff of tragedies (12.­121–­123). The Lacedaemonian ephors have the authority “to put to death, without trial, as many of their subject neighbors as they wish, but for other Greeks it is a violation of religious correctness to kill even the most wicked of household slaves” (12.181). And “how is it religiously correct to say the Lacedaemonians properly practice war when they continued all the time to kill their subject neighbors, whom they ought to be protecting?” (12.220; cf. 12.­182–­184, 187). Finally, Isocrates makes proper treatment of the dead, especially the recovery of bodies after battle, a matter of religious correctness and of respect “for the common law of all Greeks” (12.170).

on the deities On Gods “One set of gods, called Olympian, is the cause of the good things for us; the other set is assigned to misfortunes and punishments and has more sinister names. For the first set private individuals and cities erect temples and altars. The second set is not honored in prayers or in sacrifices, but we perform rites to send them away” (5.117). “I do not believe that the gods or even their offspring shared in any evil but that they by nature have all the virtues and have been for others the guides and teachers of the best practices” (11.41). 69

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“If being a mortal one must guess at the thinking of the gods,” the gods reward virtue and punish evil. Zeus, as in the myths that all believe, so rewarded his virtuous child, Heracles, and punished his evil child, Tantalus (1.50). “It is likely that the goodwill of the gods is with those who act justly if we must judge about the future by what has happened in the past” (6.59; cf. 8.35). “If the gods have any concern with human affairs, nothing of what is now happening to me escapes their notice” (15.­321–­322).

On Heroes Heroes are generally defined as human beings who, for extraordinary accomplishments, were worshipped as deities after their deaths. Their cult is distinct from that of gods, usually linked to their tombs and physical remains. In the Encomium of Helen (10.63) Isocrates has the Lacedaemonians making “pure and ancestral sacrifices” to Helen and Menelaus as gods, not as heroes, a detail that enhances their status and probably needed to be included because some Homeric figures, like Ajax, became heroes and not gods. Isocrates has the Plataeans recall for the Athenians the “gods and heroes to whom they sacrificed with good omens” before the Battle of Plataea, in 479 BCE (14.60). Another hero would be Aeacus of Aegina, a son of Zeus and the founder of the Aeacid family, and for him Isocrates gives precious information on the creation of his cult: “In a time of drought among the Greeks, long ago, when many people had perished and the magnitude of the disaster was extreme, the leaders of the cities came and supplicated Aeacus on Aegina, thinking that because of his kinship with Zeus and his proper respect for the gods he would most quickly find from the gods deliverance from the present evils. When they were saved and got what they had asked for, they founded a sanctuary for him on Aegina, a sanctuary shared by all the Greeks, at the place where Aeacus had made his prayer. At that time Aeacus was still living and continued to enjoy a very good reputation. After he departed life, he is said to have a seat beside Plouton and Korē and to have the highest honors” (9.­14–­15).

On Demigods (Οἱ Ἡμίθεοι) Isocrates treats as a distinct group demigods, individuals who were born from at least one divine parent. Most, and the “most ­well-­born” among them, were the descendants of Zeus (9.13, 10.16). Many of the heroes of the 70

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Trojan War and the suitors of Helen were demigods (2.49, 5.137, 143, 10.48). When praising the Aeacid Evagoras, Isocrates gives first rank among the demigods to the Aeacidae, the descendants of Aeacus, who was himself a son of Zeus (9.13; cf. 3.42). Isocrates once criticizes those who praise the Lacedaemonians as “as if those who govern there were demigods” (12.41), but for him the Greek mortals who in historical times fought the Persians might be considered “worthy of the same things as those born from the gods and called demigods” (4.84).

On the ­God-­Equal (Οἱ Ἰσόθεοι) Isocrates’ use of “­god-­equal” is infrequent but, perhaps, of particular interest because in the late fourth century the honors that Greeks gave to Hellenistic monarchs were termed not “divine” but “­god-­equal.” Isocrates as early as the first quarter of the fourth century BCE links “­god-­equal” to “power,” to Helen’s power to rescue her brothers from the underworld and to the Egyptians’ ability, like Zeus’s, to provide water for agriculture (10.61, 11.13). He also claims, once in 374 BCE, that “when people look upon the tyrants’ honors and wealth and powers, all think them g­ od-­equal” (2.5). Nearly thirty years later, in his address to Philip, he states that those like the Homeric kings “left behind a ­god-­equal reputation that is famous among all people. That is because all love not those who acquired very great power for themselves but those who have been responsible for the most good things for the Greeks” (5.145).

on ­g od-­g iven gifts In Isocrates’ view, the gods provide humans good harvests, fertile and healthy animals, economic prosperity, and physical safety in war. Timely rain and droughts come from Zeus (11.13) and good grain crops and the Eleusinian Mysteries from Demeter (4.28). The Dioscuri offered rescues at sea (10.61). He imagines Greek burial customs and laws as instituted “by a daimonic power” (12.169; cf. 12.174), and by this phrase he seemingly disassociates these from “the gods,” as is appropriate in the Greek tradition. Elsewhere Isocrates mentions not specific gods but the gods in general as contributing to humans the advancement of individuals’ private affairs and an abundance of thriving children (8.127, 11.41). Isocrates advises Demonicus to be the type of child to his parents that he would pray his own children be to him (1.14). Isocrates’ gods show particular interest, no doubt the 71

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result of Isocrates’ own particular interests, in dynastic matters: the longevity of reigns of Athens’s early kings (12.125) and that Evagoras could establish his kingship “in a religiously correct and just way” (9.­25–­26). Isocrates has a defender of the Lacedaemonians claim that everyone would pray to the gods for unrestricted dynastic power for himself or his family members (12.244). The same man argues that “the gods” contributed to the Lacedaemonian military victories in the Peloponnesus and eventual control of Lacedaemonia (12.254). Isocrates also imagines that people would pray to the gods for the ability of as many citizens as possible to make money from foreigners to spend for the benefit of the city, as he did (15.165), or for oratorical ability for themselves and for their children and other family members (15.246). In this context is his introduction of Peitho, the goddess of persuasion (15.249). And “some god” even brought on the Persian Wars, wishing to demonstrate to the world the virtue of the Athenians (4.84). What is of special interest are what good things Isocrates expressly says the gods did not give human beings (but the Athenians did): political constitutions that allowed for a settled, p ­ olis-­style life, laws (as an example, laws concerning homicide), and the crafts, those involving everyday necessities and those bringing pleasurable things (4.­38–­40). How did the Greek gods provide humans with all these good things? In his open letter to Philip, written when Isocrates was ninety years old and urging Philip to lead the Panhellenic expedition against the Persians, he claims, “It was not my old age that invented these ideas but the divine suggested them to me.” The divine was not concerned for Isocrates himself, but for Greece, and wanted two things: “to free Greece from its present evils and to give you a much greater reputation than you already have.” Then Isocrates proposes to remind Philip about “how the gods manage human affairs.” They do not, “with their own hands, create the good and bad things that happen to humans, but they create in each person such thinking that the good and bad are here for us through one another.” As examples, chosen much according to his purposes, of course, he offers that the gods gave to him, Isocrates, skill in oratory and to Philip skill in actions, “for they thought that Philip would best take care of actions and that my oratory would be least annoying to listeners.” He concludes this segment by saying that Philip’s past accomplishments “could never have been so great had not some god made them successful.” In the next section Isocrates attributes Philip’s success to tychē, “good fortune,” but here we must remember that, in Isocrates’ view, good fortune could be a gift of the gods (5.­149–­152). 72

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on festivals ( heortai and panēg yreis ) For all who come our city is at all times a panēgyris. (4.46) Isocrates comments more on heortai, annual, local religious festivals, and on panēgyreis, the usually quadrennial international festivals, than on any other element of religious cult. For an international audience he outlines the foundation, benefits, and even faults of the major panēgyreis; for an Athenian audience he finds fault with their local heortai. In Panegyricus (4), putatively composed if not delivered for a celebration of the Olympic Games and published in 380 BCE, he gives the fullest positive statement of what such panēgyreis meant: their founders created a custom for Greeks whereby, for a period, “they made peace treaties, dissolved their existing hatreds, and came together to one place. After this they made common, joint sacrifices and prayers, remembered their kinship, and in the future were more kindly disposed to one another. They renewed old friendships with foreigners and made other new ones.” And there was something for everyone: for exceptional persons the venue to show off their skills and successes, and for private individuals to watch the exceptional competing against one another. Both groups felt honor, the one, that many people came to see them perform; the other, that the competitors were ­competing on their behalf (4.­43–­44; cf. Epist. 1.6). And in these panēgyreis, the competitors were not just the athletes. They included also the famous orators who like Gorgias and Lysias performed epideictic orations, usually with Panhellenic themes; such Isocrates’ Panegyricus purports to be. And in the production of panēgyreis Athens was, in Isocrates’ judgment, inferior to none. With their competitions of speed and strength, words and thought, Athens’s “spectacles” were most numerous and most beautiful, some excelling in cost and others in high repute for the skills demonstrated, some in both, and its prizes are the greatest (4.45). But even in the opening words of Panegyricus, Isocrates criticizes the adulation of the athletes: “Many times I have wondered about those who brought together the panēgyreis and established the athletic contests, that they thought the successes of bodies worth such great gifts but gave no honor to those who have labored privately for the common good and have trained their souls in such a way as to be able to benefit others. The founders ought to have paid more attention to them. For even if the athletes acquired twice as much strength as they have, there would be no gain for others, but all who wish to share in his way of thought might draw 73

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benefit from one man who has thought well” (4.­1–­2). Thirty years later, in a letter to the rulers of Mytilene, Isocrates expanded on these criticisms: again wondering at “how many cities deem those who succeed in athletic contests worthy of greater gifts than those who have discovered something useful by their thinking and hard work. Those cities do not see that the abilities of strength and speed die with the body, but knowledge remains for all time, benefitting those who use it” (Epist. 8.5). Competition in these Panhellenic panēgyreis was not limited to athletics and oratory. Isocrates describes Alcibiades as so “unsparing and grand in his sacrifices and other expenditures at the Olympic Games that the state contributions of others appeared less than his private ones” (16.34). Isocrates gives to Archidamus a revealing account of the Lacedaemonians’ feelings at the Olympic Games and other major panēgyreis. In the old days each Lacedaemonian was “more envied and admired” by all for his virtue “than were the athletes who won prizes.” “What Lacedaemonian now [366 BCE] would dare go to these panēgyreis, when he will be scorned instead of honored, will be the object of attention for his evildoing by the same people he was before crowded around because of his virtue? And, in addition, he will see the Messenians, former household slaves, . . . ​making greater ­first-­fruits offerings and sacrifices than the Lacedaemonians” (6.­95–­96). Isocrates wrote On the Team of Horses (16), in 3­97–­396  BCE, for the son of Alcibiades, who was defending himself and his father’s reputation in court. The son touts his father’s chariot victories in the Olympic Games (finishing, in 416  BCE, first, second, and third), and in so doing reveals his (and Isocrates’) biases in favor of the w ­ ell-­born, wealthy, and ­well-­educated: “The Olympic panēgyris is loved and admired by all ­people; the Greeks in it exhibit their wealth, strength, and education; the ­athletes are envied; and the cities of the victors become famous. . . . ​My father scorned the athletic contests because he knew some of the athletes there were l­ow-­born, poorly educated, and from small cities. He trained and raced horses, “the activity of those most having eudaimonia, and in that he surpassed not only his competitors but all who had ever won a victory” (16.­32–­34). Heortai were much on Isocrates’ mind in three discourses he composed for the Athenians about 355 BCE. In Antidosis (15) he again introduces victors in major Panhellenic panēgyreis, claiming those should be honored more who bring a “finer and more fitting reputation” to the city, in Athens’s case for its education system, in which, he adds, “all would judge that we hold first place” (15.­301–­302). In terms of their local heortai, Isocrates, 74

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as throughout Areopagiticus (7), praises Athenian ancestors. Then some lived so well in the countryside that “many of the citizens did not even come to town for the heortai but chose to remain in their private good things rather than to enjoy the public ones.” Even the embassies to foreign panēgyreis might not attract them, because “the forefathers made their embassies not licentiously and extravagantly but sensibly, and they judged eudaimonia not from religious processions, competitions among the sponsors of performances in heortai, and from such quackeries, but from living with sōphrosynē and from the fact that no citizen was without essentials of everyday life” (7.­52–­53). In On the Peace (8) Isocrates tries to describe to the Athenians why they are so hated in the Greek world, and he points to, among other things, their nationalistic displays at the City Dionysia: the setting out of surplus revenue from the empire, talent by talent, in the full theater and the introduction of the orphaned sons of fallen Athenian warriors. In doing this, the Athenians were displaying their wealth and the sacrifices they had made to acquire it, and for these they praised their city in the highest terms. But the Athenians took no account of the reaction of visitors who judged, like Isocrates, that the sacrifices were the result of Athenian greed and that the profits were unjustly acquired. “So precisely,” Isocrates claims, “the Athenians were finding those things from which people might especially be hated” (8.­82–­83).

on priests Isocrates was not much impressed with Greek priests. Theirs was a job that anyone could do (2.6), characterized by laziness (15.71). We may see an implied comparison in his praise of Egyptian priests, who were well supported financially by revenues from their sanctuaries, were not exposed to dangers, were exempt from other work, had sōphrosynē because of regulations of purity imposed on them by the laws, invented medicine and the use of good drugs, and introduced philosophy to their country. The priesthood represented the whole country’s proper respect and service toward the gods (11.­21–­24). None of these, and perhaps to Isocrates not even the last, is characteristic of Greek priests.

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Those who dare to tell lies about those who educate and who devote themselves to philosophy deserve to be hated equally with those who commit wrongs against the property of the gods. (3.9)

I

n Antidosis (15), in which he imagines that he is being charged, like Socrates, with corrupting the young, Isocrates gives the fullest defense of his career as a philosopher and teacher. In doing so he expounds on his views of the nature, value, and critics of philosophy and on his theories and practice of education. For him philosophy and education are almost inextricably intertwined, as are education and rhetoric. And poetry should be a part of education. I offer here, in his own words, his comments on all this in Antidosis, with occasional additions from his other writings. Isocrates’ particular conception of what philosophy is and his purposes in teaching will become apparent in the following passages, but for a general orientation on these topics see “Recurrent Themes in Isocrates” in the introduction.

on philosophy As well as I am able, I will try to describe the nature of philosophy and the power that it has; to which of the other crafts it is similar; how it benefits those involved in it, and what promises we make. I think that, when you have learned the truth, you will better plan and pass judgment about it. (15.178) I did not, when I was younger, appear to be a quack making great promises but then denigrate philosophy after I became older and

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profited from my occupation. I have spoken about philosophy in the same way when I was in my prime and now [­354–­353 BCE], when I am beyond it, when I was confident in my situation and when I was in danger, to my students and to you, the jurors, who are going to vote on me. I do not know how anyone could be shown to have been either more honest or more just concerning philosophy. (15.195) “If you have sōphrosynē, you will . . . ​not be, as now, either harsh or neglectful toward philosophy. You will assume that care of the soul is the finest and most serious practice, and you will direct to education and such training the young men who possess a sufficient livelihood and have the leisure for it. You will value highly those who are willing to work hard and make themselves useful to the city” (15.304). “Philosophy . . . ​educated us in respect to actions and made us gentle toward one another. It distinguished between the misfortunes that occur because of ignorance and those arising from necessity. It taught us to guard against the former and to bear well the latter” (4.47). “Whatever you wish to understand precisely of those things that it is fitting for kings to know, pursue by both experience and philosophy. Practicing philosophy will show you the way, but training in action will make you able to handle events” (2.35). Some people “say that those who neglect the necessary things and love the miracle stories of the sophists of long ago are practicing philosophy, but they pay no attention to those who are learning and practicing those things from which they will manage well their own families and the public affairs of the city. It is for these purposes that one must labor, practice philosophy, and do all things” (15.285). “I don’t think one ought to call philosophy what in the present brings no benefit in regard to speaking or acting. I call that a training of the soul and a preparation for philosophy. It is more manly than what children do in the schools but is similar to it in most respects. Those who have labored in grammar and literature and the rest of education do not yet advance in regard to speaking better or planning better about affairs, but they become better learners for the greater and more serious lessons. I would advise younger men to spend some time in these forms of education but not to overlook their natures becoming desiccated in them or running aground on the writings of the sophists of long ago. One of the sophists said that the multitude of things existing is unlimited; Empedocles said there were four and that there was quarreling and friendship among them; Ion said not more than three; Alcmeon said two only; 77

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Parmenides and Melissus that there was one; and Gorgias that there was altogether nothing. I believe that such remarkable talk is like the magic tricks that bring no benefit but are admired by the foolish. Those who want to make some progress ought to eliminate from all their activities foolish talk and actions that contribute nothing to life. . . . “Since it is not in the nature of human beings to acquire exact ­knowledge, by which we would know what must be done or said, I consider wise those who are able to find by their opinions for the most part what is best, and I consider philosophers those who spend their time in things from which they will most quickly acquire this good thinking” (15.­266–­271). “If philosophy has such power as to corrupt the younger people, not only must we punish any philosopher someone brings to court, but we must get rid of all who are engaged in this pursuit. But if the opposite is true, that philosophy benefits and makes the students better and worth more, then we must stop those telling lies about it, . . . ​and we must advise the younger people to spend their time in this pursuit rather than in other practices” (15.175).

on education and philosophy Those who instruct younger men not in the ways they will practice cleverness in speaking but how they will seem to be serious people in their personal characters benefit their listeners more. The former exhort them to speaking ability alone, but the latter set their characters on the right path. (1.4; cf. 13.21) I think you know that elders hand over the affairs of the city to the youth coming after them. Since such a cycle always happens, the city necessarily fares in the future in the manner in which the young are educated. (15.174) “I wish first to discuss with you education in language as genealogical writers do. It is agreed that our nature is composed of body and soul. Everyone would agree that of these two the soul is more the leader and is worth more. It is the task of the soul to deliberate about both private and public matters, and of the body to serve what is decided upon by the soul. Since this is so, some of those born long before us, seeing that many 78

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arts had been established about other things but no such thing had been put together concerning the body and soul, invented and left for us two practices, physical training concerning bodies and for souls philosophy, about which I am going to speak. Physical training and philosophy are counterparts to one another, yokemates, in agreement, and through them their teachers make souls more thoughtful and bodies more useful. They do not distinguish these two forms of education much from one another but use very similar teachings, physical exercises, and other practices. “When they take students, the physical trainers teach them the movements that have been invented for combat and competition, but the philosophers go through for their students all the forms that spoken language uses. After they have given them experience and precise understanding in these, they again give them training and accustom them to hard work and require them to connect each of the things they learned so that they may hold these more securely and in their judgments may approximate real situations that arise. It is not possible by knowledge alone to grasp all these situations, because in all actions such situations escape complete knowledge. But those who especially pay attention and are able to visualize the result for the most part succeed. By attending to and educating their students in this way until they improve, both types of instructors are able to lead them to having better ways of thinking and better conditions of their bodies. Neither physical trainers nor philosophers have that knowledge by which they might make whomever they wish athletes or capable orators, but each might contribute a part, and in general the capabilities lie with those students who excel by both innate nature and training. Such is the general outline of philosophy” (15.­180–­186). “I am so far from condemning the education handed down by our ancestors that I praise even the one established in our own time. I mean geometry and astrology and so‑called eristic argumentation. Younger men take more pleasure in eristic arguments than they should, and all older men would say they are insufferable. But I still encourage those who have embarked on these to work hard and pay attention to them all. If they are able to create no other good, at least these lessons divert the younger men from many other evils. For that youthful age group I don’t think there ever could be found more beneficial or appropriate activities than these. I think that for older men and those having reached manhood these studies are no longer appropriate. I see that some have been so precisely trained in these lessons that they teach others but do not use the knowledge that 79

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they have in fitting ways. In other activities of life they are less thoughtful than their ­students—​­I hesitate to say even than their household slaves. I have the same opinion about those who are able to give an oration publicly and have a good reputation for their writing or in general excel in the crafts, sciences, and special skills. I know that the majority of them have not managed well their personal affairs, are insufferable in private intercourse, disparage the opinions of their fellow citizens, and are full of many other great faults” (12.­26–­29). Isocrates’ fictional Busiris, king of Egypt, “assigned the older men to the greatest matters and the younger men he persuaded to neglect pleasures and spend time in astrology, mathematics, and geometry. Some praise those abilities as being useful for some things, but others attempt to show that they contribute very much to virtue” (11.23). “I believe that those who are skilled in eristic arguments and those who engage in astrology, geometry, and other such lessons do not harm but benefit their students, less than they promise but more than it seems to others. Most have assumed that such lessons are just idle talk and ­logic-­chopping, because none of them is useful in private or public affairs. They do not even remain for any period of time in the memories of the students, because they do not connect with their lives or help their activities but are completely outside the realm of necessities. I don’t judge these things in this way or far from it. Those who think that this education is of no use for activities seem to me to judge correctly, but the ones who praise it seem to tell the truth. I have made this s­elf-­contradictory statement because these lessons have a nature unlike the others by which we are taught. The other studies by nature benefit us when we get knowledge of them, but these would not benefit those precisely trained in them, except for those who choose to make a living from them, but they still benefit the students. If the students spend time in extreme preciseness of language and the exactitude of astrology and geometry, and if in addition they are forced to pay attention to hard‑to‑learn topics, and if they are made accustomed to talk and labor over what is said and shown and not to let their minds wander, then, trained and stimulated in these things, they are able to accept and learn more easily and more quickly things that are more serious and worth more” (15.­261–­265; cf. Epist. 5.­3–­4). 80

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*  *  * “Some say that what the sophists spend their time in is nonsense and a sham, because no such educational system has been discovered by which someone might become either more clever in the use of language or ­better-­thinking concerning actions.1 They claim that those who excel in these things differ from others by their innate nature. Others agree that those engaged in this activity are more clever but claim that they are corrupted and become worse men. When they get power, they plot against others’ property. Neither of these groups says anything sound or true, and I have high hopes that I will make this clear to all. “First think about those who say this education is worthless that they themselves all too clearly are talking nonsense. They disparage this education as if it can bring no benefit but is deceit and quackery, but then they expect those who are with us as students to change as soon as they come to us and after they have spent a few days to appear wiser and better in arguments than those who are older and more experienced than they. And they expect that when they have stayed only a year they are good and perfected orators, the neglectful among them no worse than those willing to work hard and those by nature unfit no worse than those who have manly souls. They make these requirements even though they have not heard us making such promises and have not seen in other skills and forms of education any of these things resulting. They have seen that we acquire real knowledge with difficulty and do not all in the same way work out in practice what we learn. Only two or three students out of all the schools become oratorical competitors, but the others leave these schools as private citizens. How must we not consider foolish those who dare to demand the powers that do not exist in the commonly agreed skills from a skill that they say does not exist? Or those who demand that more benefits accrue from a skill that they don’t believe exists than from those that seem to have been carefully invented? “Sensible men ought not to make judgments in a dissimilar way about similar things, nor to reject the educational system that creates the same things as most of the skills. Who of you does not know that many of those who have studied with the sophists have not been bamboozled and put in the condition that these people say? That some of the students have ended up capable oratorical competitors; some have been enabled to teach others, and those who have wished to live a private life are more eloquent in casual associations than they were before and more precise judges of arguments and advisers than most people? How is it fitting to scorn such 81

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a vocation, which is able to make those who practice it such? . . . ​And, in addition, every one of you would say that many of his classmates when they were children seemed to be the most ignorant of their peers but when they became older excelled in good thinking and speaking those same ones to whom they were inferior when they were children. From this especially someone might know what power training has. For it is clear that as children all were using the ways of thinking they were born with, but when they became men they became different and changed their way of thinking, the one group by living a dissolute and lazy life; the other by paying attention to their activities and to themselves. “And in a case where because of their practices some become better, how would not these same people, if they had gotten a mentor who was older and experienced in many things and who took up some past traditions and himself invented other things, how would not these same people still more have surpassed their past selves and others? “Not only from these arguments but also from others all would reasonably wonder at the ignorance of those who dare without reason to scorn philosophy, first of all if they, knowing that all activities and skills are acquired by practice and hard work, believe that these things have no power in respect to the training of good thinking. Second, if they would say that no body is so bad that it would not become better if it were trained and did hard work, but think that souls, which by nature are better than bodies, would not become more serious if educated and if they found the appropriate training. And, third, if they see that those who have skills in training horses and dogs and most animals make some more courageous, some more gentle, and some more thoughtful, but believe that about the nature of human beings no such educational program has been found that could lead them to some of these things to which they can lead animals. They have charged such misfortune against us all that they would agree that by our ways of thinking each of the animals becomes better and more useful, but they dare to say that we who have this good thinking, by which we make all things worth more, cannot in any way benefit one another in respect to goodness” (15.­197–­212). “What is most terrible of all, they would judge the soul to be more serious than the body, but even knowing this they applaud those doing physical training more than those practicing philosophy. And yet how it is not unreasonable to praise more those who train the more lowly part than those training the more serious? And they do this when all know that 82

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never yet has our city accomplished any noteworthy action because of the good condition of the bodies but has the most eudaimonia and has become greatest of the Greek cities because of the good thinking of a man” (15.250).2 “Whom then do I call well educated . . . ? First, those who handle well the matters that befall them each day and can successfully judge situations and are able for the most part to target what is beneficial; next, those who properly and justly associate with those about them, tolerating easily and g­ ood-­naturedly unpleasantnesses or offensiveness of others and being themselves as pleasant and moderate as is possible to those they are with; in addition, those who are always in control of pleasures and are not unduly overcome by misfortunes, being courageous in them in a manner worthy of the inborn nature we all share; fourth, and most important of all, those who are not corrupted by successes and do not change and become arrogant but remain in the class of ­good-­thinking men, not rejoicing more in the good things that have come to them by chance than in those that originate from their own natures and good thinking. Those whose souls’ condition is in accord, not only with one of these things but with them ­all—​­these, I say, are ­good-­thinking and complete men and possess all the virtues” (12.­30–­32).

on rhetoric We hear that you, Alexander, prefer the education in the language that we use concerning activities that come up each day and with which we plan about public affairs. ( Epist. 5.4) You will find that of those who are currently participating in political affairs or have recently died the ones who have devoted the most attention to language have been the best of those who go to the speakers’ platform. And of those of long ago the best orators and those who had the greatest reputation have been the cause of the most good things for our city, beginning with Solon. (15.231) “Of all the elements in the nature of humans, language is the cause of the most good things. By the other things that we have, . . . ​we differ in no way from other animals. In fact, we are inferior to many of them in speed, 83

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strength, and other resources. But when we got the ability to persuade one another and to communicate among ourselves about what we want, we not only escaped the bestial life but also came together and founded cities, made laws, and invented the arts and crafts. Language is what created almost all the things devised by us. “Language established laws and traditions about what is just and unjust, beautiful and ugly, and if these had not been sorted out, we would not be able to live together. By language we convict evil men and praise good ones. Through it we educate the foolish and evaluate those who think well. We make the ability to speak as is necessary the greatest sign of good thinking, and true, legal, and just speech is an image of a good and trustworthy soul. With language we contest about disputable things and examine unknown things. When we personally plan, we use the same trustworthy arguments by which we persuade others, and we call orators those who are able to speak before a crowd and consider prudent those who best hold dialogues with themselves about things to be done. And if I must speak summarily about its power, we will find nothing of those things done with thought happening without language. Language guides all deeds and thoughts, and those who are most sensible especially use it” (15.­253–­257). “What has the greatest power in regard to education in language? I would answer that the element of inborn nature is unsurpassable and differs from all the others. I mean the person who has a soul that can invent, learn, work hard, and remember, and a voice and clarity of utterance so that he can persuade his listeners not only by what is said but also by harmonious tones, and, in addition, daring, not the one that is a sign of shamelessness but the one that, accompanied by sōphrosynē, prepares his soul so that he is no less confident speaking in front of all his fellow citizens than when thinking to himself. Who does not know that such a man, if he had an education that was not overelaborate but just commonplace and a­ vailable to all, would be an orator like no one of the Greeks has been? We know also those who have a nature inferior to these but, excelling in their experience and training, improve and become better than those who are well endowed by nature but have neglected themselves too much. And so each of these things might make a man clever at speaking and acting, but both together in the same man would make him unsurpassable by others. So I judge about inborn nature and experience. But I cannot say such a thing about education, because it does not have the same or similar power as these. If someone should hear everything about language and be more 84

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precisely trained than others, he might become a more elegant wordsmith than most people, but standing before a crowd, if he lacks daring alone, he would not be able to speak” (15.­189–­192). “I believe there has not been before and there is not now any craft by which you might create virtue and justice in those badly suited to them by their innate natures. The sophists who make these promises will grow exhausted and stop talking their nonsense before any such education is discovered. But people might become better and worth more if they sought honor in speaking well and desired the ability to persuade their listeners and sought an advantage in these things, not advantage as commonly thought of by the foolish but the one that truly has this power. . . . ​ The individual who chooses to speak or write discourses worthy of praise and honor will not put forward unjust or small topics or ones about private contracts, but rather great, good, and philanthropic proposals about public matters. . . . ​He will select as examples the most appropriate and beneficial acts of men pertaining to his topic. The person who is accustomed to seeing and judging such actions will have the same ability in the speech at hand and in other activities so that those disposed in a philosophical and ­honor-­loving way toward speeches will have the ability both to speak well and to think well. And the person who wishes to persuade will not neglect virtue but will pay special attention to acquiring as good a reputation as possible among his fellow citizens. Who does not know that the words spoken by those with a good reputation seem more truthful than those spoken by individuals who have been criticized, and that the proofs arising from one’s life have more power than those provided by a speech? The more one is eager to persuade his listeners, the more he will practice being good and noble and developing a good reputation among his fellow citizens. And let no one of you think that all other people know what power pleasing the judges has for persuasion but that only those engaged in philosophy are unaware of the power of goodwill. They know these things much more precisely than others. And, in addition, they know that arguments from probability and testimonies and each type of persuasion benefit only that part of a speech over which each of them is said, but to seem to be a good and noble person not only makes one’s words more trustworthy but also makes the deeds of the one who has such a reputation more honored. Those who think well ought to be more serious about their reputation than about all other things” (15.­274–­280). 85

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*  *  * “I wonder at those who attribute eudaimonia to those who are by nature clever at speaking as if a good and beautiful thing has befallen them but then criticize those who wish to become such as if they are desiring an unjust and evil education. And yet what of the things good by nature is bad or ugly if it is produced by training? We will find no such thing. In other matters we praise those who have been able to acquire something good by their own hard work more than those who have gotten it from their ancestors. In all other things and especially in the use of language it is fitting for not success but training to have a good reputation. Those clever in speaking by innate nature and good fortune do not look to what is best but customarily use their ability in a random way. But those who have acquired this ability by philosophy and reasoning say nothing without due consideration and commit fewer errors in their actions. All, therefore, ought to want that many from their education become skilled at speaking, and especially you. For you Athenians excel and differ from others not by your training in war nor because you have the best government and especially protect the laws that your ancestors left to you, but in those things in which humans’ nature excels other animals and in which the Greek race excels the b ­ arbarians—​­that is, by having been better educated than others in respect to thinking and language. And so it would be the most terrible outcome if you should vote that those who wish to excel their peers in those very things in which you excel are being corrupted, and if those who are employing this education of which you have been leaders should encounter some misfortune” (15.­291–­294). “I believe that all who seek honor desire the ability to speak and think well. Some of them neglect these things because of laziness, or faulting their natural ability, or for many other excuses, of which there are very many. They are ill disposed, jealous, and upset at those who train hard and wish to achieve what they themselves desire, and they suffer what lovers do. For what more fitting charge might one make against them? They deem blessed and envy those able to use language well, but they criticize young men who wish to attain this honor. Everyone would pray to the gods that he himself be able to speak well, and if not himself, then his children and members of his household. But the critics say that those who are attempting to accomplish by hard work and philosophy what they themselves want to get from the gods are doing nothing necessary. Sometimes they pretend to laugh at them as though they have been deceived and cheated, 86

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but, when they are successful, the critics change their tune and say that they are talking about those who are able to get the advantage. When some danger seizes the city, then they use as advisers those who best speak about the matters at hand and do whatever they advise. But they think they must tell lies about those who work to make themselves useful to the city in such crises. They criticize Thebans and our other enemies for their ignorance, but they keep verbally abusing those who seek in every way to avoid this disease” (15.­244–­248). “Some are annoyed with rhetoric and criticize philosophers and say they spend their time on such things not for the sake of virtue but to gain an advantage. I would gladly hear from them why they criticize those who desire to speak well but praise those wishing to act rightly. If the advantages trouble them, we will find that more and greater advantages come from actions than from words. . . . ​One must accuse not these actions by which someone with virtue will get more but the people who commit wrongs in their actions or deceive people with their words and do not use them justly” (3.­1–­2). “I regularly say to those who study my philosophy that first they must consider what is to be accomplished by the speech and by its parts. When we discover and work this out carefully, then we must search out the rhetorical devices by which this will be achieved, and the purpose that we proposed will be fulfilled. I say this about speeches, but it is a target to shoot at also in other things and in all your activities” (Epist. 6.8).

on poets and poetry You must learn the best things of the poets. (1.51) Do not think you can be without the experience of anyone of the poets in good repute. . . . ​Listen to them. (2.13) Homer has the greatest reputation for wisdom. (13.2) Who does not know or has not heard from the tragedians at the Dionysia the misfortunes that happened to Adrastus in Thebes? (12.168) 87

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*  *  * “The poets have been given many embellishments. They can make gods approach humans, talk with them, and help those whom they wish. And they can describe these things not only with common words but also with foreign and new words and with metaphors. They can leave aside nothing but embroider their poetry with all the figures of speech. None of these things is possible for prose writers, but they must use with precision only ordinary words and thoughts about events. In addition, the poets compose all their writings with meters and rhythms, but prose writers have no share in these. Meter and rhythm bring such charm that even if the style and thoughts are bad, still the poets by the rhythms and meters win over their listeners. And someone could understand their power from the fact that, if someone leaves behind just the words and thoughts of famous poems and does away with the meter, they will appear much inferior to the good repute in which we now hold them” (9.­9–­11). “The poetry of Homer and those who first invented tragedy deserve to be admired because they saw the nature of human beings and used both these forms for their poetry. Homer told in stories the contests and wars of the demigods, and the tragedians put the stories into contests and action so that they could be not only heard but also seen by us. We have such models, and it has been shown that those who desire to win over their listeners must keep away from criticizing and giving advice but must say those things that they see the crowds especially favoring” (2.­48–­49). “It was clear to me that all think those poems and prose writings that give advice are most useful, but they do not most happily listen to them. . . . ​Someone could make as an indication of this the poetry of Hesiod and Theognis and Phocylides. People say that they have been the best advisers for the life of humans, but while saying this they choose to spend their time with the follies of one another rather than with the advice of the poets. And if some should select out the so‑called thoughts of the leading poets . . . , people would be similarly disposed also to them. They would more happily listen to the most miserable comedy than to writings so skillfully composed” (2.­42–­44). “Some even of the reciters of Homer say that Helen appeared to Homer in the night and ordered him to write about those who campaigned against Troy. She wanted to make their lives more envied than the lives of others. The poem became so charming and famous to all in part because of the skill of Homer but especially because of Helen” (10.65). “We are by nature so hostile to the Persians that we most happily spend 88

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our time with the Trojan and Persian stories in which we can hear of their misfortunes. One would find that hymns have been composed from the war against the barbarians, but laments for war against Greeks. The hymns are sung in our heortai, but the laments we remember in misfortunes. I think the poetry of Homer got a great reputation because he praised those who fought the barbarians, and for this reason our ancestors wished to honor his skill in the musical contests and in the education of the young, so that hearing many times his poetry we might learn of our hatred toward the barbarians and emulate the virtues of those who campaigned [against Troy] and desire the same deeds” (4.­158–­159). “When they are still in the minds of their composers, many poems and prose writings create great expectations, but when they are completed and shown to others, they receive a reputation far inferior to those expectations” (2.7). “It is still more terrible if those who lived before us so honored the [Theban] poet Pindar for one phrase, because he named our city ‘the bulwark of Greece,’ that they made him their representative in Thebes and gave him ten thousand drachmas, but I, who have praised our ancestors better and much more, cannot live the rest of my time in safety” (15.166). “Even though there is a democracy, there is not freedom of speech, except . . . ​in the theater for the comedy writers. And what is most terrible of all, you favor those who publish to other Greeks the faults of our city but not those who do it some good” (8.14). “You had no concern with the truth, but you followed the blasphemous lies of the poets. They show the children of the gods having done and suffered things more terrible than those born from the most religiously incorrect humans. They have told such stories about the gods themselves that no one would dare to tell about his enemies. Not only did they impute to them thefts and adulteries and slavelike service to men, but they even wrote about eating of children, emasculation of fathers, enchaining of mothers, and many other illegal acts. For these the poets did not pay the deserved punishment. Still, they did not escape unpunished. Some wandered as beggars and were in need of everyday things. Some were blinded, another was exiled from his country and spent all his remaining time at war with his closest kin. Orpheus, who especially laid his hand to such stories, ended his life torn to bits. And so, if we have sōphrosynē, we will not imitate their ­stories . . . , but we will be on our guard and think that those who say such things and those who believe them equally lack respect for the gods” (11.­38–­40). “I will speak again about the poets if old age does not kill me first, but now [339 BCE] I have to talk about more serious things than poets” (12.34). 89

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The government is the soul of the city and has the power that good thinking has in the body. It is the government that plans about all things, protects the good things, avoids misfortunes, and is responsible for all that results for the cities. By necessity the laws, orators, and private citizens become like this government, and each fares as does the government they have. (7.14; see also 12.138) The person who has the greatest share in the good things and bad things of his city necessarily feels the most goodwill at its successes. (16.39)

I

offer first some of Isocrates’ general thoughts on political theory and then his discussions of monarchy, oligarchy, and democracy. His description of these in historical and contemporary contexts may be found in chapter 6. “I say there are only three forms of government: oligarchy, democracy, and monarchy. Those who, dwelling in these, customarily put in charge of offices and other matters those who are the most capable citizens and who are going to oversee affairs best and most justly will live well under all governments in respect both to themselves and to others. But those who use the boldest and most wicked men for these things and use those who take no thought of what is beneficial for the city and are ready to suffer anything to further their own greed, their cities will have a life like the wickedness of their leaders. . . . ​When people are confident, they honor especially those who say what gives them pleasure, but when they

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are afraid, they take refuge with those who are best and b ­ est-­thinking” (12.­132–­133). “They desired not to rule but to be tyrants. These seem to have the same meaning but differ very much from one another. It is the task of rulers to give their subjects more eudaimonia by their attentions, but tyrants usually create pleasures for themselves by the labors and miseries of ­others. Those who attempt such deeds necessarily fall into misfortunes characteristic of tyrants and suffer the kinds of things they do to others” (8.91). “Sensible men must most value those who preside over their city well and justly, and of second importance, those who can contribute to its honor and good reputation” (Epist. 8.6). “From the same political policies the same or nearly the same actions always necessarily result” (7.78). “I see that those cities that think they are faring very well plan very badly and that those most confident fall into the most dangers. The reason is that nothing good or bad arises for men itself by itself, but folly and with it a lack of restraint are alongside and follow wealth and power. Sōphrosynē and much moderation attend need and a lowly situation. And so it is difficult to decide which of these lots someone might choose to leave to his children. For we could see that from the one that seems to be more lowly men’s fortunes generally progress, but from the one that appears better their fortunes customarily fall to what is worse. I have most examples of this to show from private affairs because these have the most frequent changes, but I have examples that are greater and more famous to my listeners from what happened to us and the Lacedaemonians. . . . “Nothing can happen as they wish for those who have not planned well about all the administration of the city. If they succeed in some enterprises either because of good luck or the virtue of one man, after a little time they fall back into the same difficulties. . . . “We all know that successes come and remain not for those who have put the best and greatest walls around their cities or for those who have been gathered together with the most people in the same place but for those who best and with the most sōphrosynē administer their cities” (7.­3–­6, 7.11, 7.13). “Leadership on land is cultivated by good order, sōphrosynē, obedience to authority, and other such things, but sea power is increased not by these but from ships and from those who are able to row them, men who have lost their own property and are accustomed to provide a livelihood from others’ property” (12.­115–­116). 91

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“I believe that those who want accurately and justly to praise a city ought not to talk only about the city they have chosen, but just as we view and test porphyry and gold by comparing other pieces of the same appearance and value, so we ought to compare cities, not small ones to great ones, nor those that are always subjects to those customarily ruling, nor those needing to be saved to those able to save others, but the ones that have similar power and have been engaged in the same activities and have exercised the same license to do what they wish. In this way a person would especially find the truth” (12.­39–­40). “There has never been any benefit to those who try to gain more unjustly, but many, when they have unjustly desired the territory of others, have justly entered into the greatest dangers about their own territory” (14.25). “Who would not hate the greed of those who seek to rule the weaker but think they must be on equal terms with those who are more powerful?” (14.20). “All know that cities that have become subjugated to others put up the longest time with those from whom they suffer the fewest evils” (12.56). “The evils of cities are no less apparent in their deliberations than in the dangers of war. Most dangers of war are subject to fortune, but what is decided here is an indicator of the city’s very way of thinking. And so we must contend for victory equally in the things that will be voted here as in the contests in weapons” (6.92).

on war and peace We have come to hold a meeting of the Ekklēsia about war and peace, two things that have the greatest power in the lives of men and about which it is necessary for those who plan rightly to fare better than the others. (8.2) When many evils exist for human nature, we ourselves have invented more than the necessary ones, creating wars and civil wars for ourselves so that some perish contrary to law in their own cities; others wander in a foreign land with their children and wives, and many because of the lack of everyday necessities are forced to become mercenaries and to die fighting their friends on behalf of their enemies. No one ever has been angry because of these things, but they think it right to weep at the misfortunes composed by the poets. When they look upon the many terrible and real sufferings because 92

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of war, they so lack pity that they rejoice more in the sufferings of each other than in their own personal goods. (4.­167–­168) “First is the ability to know whom one must make war on and whom one must make allies. This is the fundamental principle of generalship, and if one lacks it the war must necessarily be unbeneficial, difficult, and useless” (15.117). The Athenians’ ancestors “took up two kinds of war that were most necessary and most just, the one with all other men against the savagery of animals and the other with the aid of the Greeks against the barbarians, who by nature are hostile to us and who are always plotting against us” (12.163). “Against whom ought those to make war who desire no aggrandizement but look to justice only? Is it not against those who first treated Greece badly and are now plotting against her and have always been so disposed toward us? Against whom ought those to feel ill will who are not completely without courage? Is it not against those who have taken on greater power than befits humans but are of less worth than the unfortunate among us? Against whom is it fitting to campaign for those who both want to show proper respect for the gods and keep in mind what is beneficial? Is it not against those who by nature are our military and ancestral enemies and who possess the most goods but are least able to defend them?” (4.­183–­184). To Philip: “You ought not to make wars that are difficult and bring no good reputation when you can make those that are easy and bring honor, nor those from which you will cause pain and worry for your closest friends and give great hopes to your enemies” (Epist. 2.11). “It is not those who conquer cities by force who win in wars but those who administer Greece more gently and in a more religiously correct way” (14.39). Of the Athenian general Timotheus: “He knew that those who are afraid hate those because of whom they feel this and that our city had become very great and had the most eudaimonia because of the friendship of others. . . . ​He defeated our enemies by the military force of the city, but he won the goodwill of the others by his own good character. He thought that this was a better and finer strategy than to seize many cities and defeat them in battle many times” (15.122). The following six selections are words that Isocrates has Archidamus, a young Spartan prince, say to his fellow Spartans in a meeting to decide on making peace or war. They may reflect Isocrates’ attempt to capture the 93

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Spartan mode of thinking, but nothing in them is inconsistent with what Isocrates elsewhere asserts in his own name. “We would find that the leading cities now [366  BCE], Athens and Thebes, made their great progress not from peace but from the fact that after they suffered misfortunes in war, they made a recovery, and from this Athens became leader of the Greeks, and Thebes at present has become as great as no one ever would have expected. Fame and brilliance usually come not from quietude but from struggles” (6.104). “I believe that, even if it is fitting for those of my age to keep silence about other matters, concerning making war or not it is fitting for these to give advice who will have the greatest share in the dangers, especially since knowing what is necessary is something we share. If it had been shown that the elders know what is best about everything and that the younger think rightly not even about one thing, it would be good to keep us from giving advice. But in regard to thinking well we differ not by our number of years but by our nature and practices, and so how is it not fitting to test both age groups so that you may be able to choose the most beneficial things from all that is said? I wonder at those who think us worthy to command triremes and armies, about both of which we would cast the city into many great misfortunes if we did not plan well, but then think we ought not to say what we know about the things you intend to decide. . . . “For what do they think we ought to fight and die? Is it not when our enemies give us orders contrary to justice and take some of our territory and free our slaves . . . ? I think it is fitting for us to endure not only war but also exile and death for these things, because it is much better to end our lives with the good reputations that we have than to live in dishonor, a dishonor that we will get if we do what our enemies command us” (6.­3–­5, 6.­88–­89). “I know that many have acquired great eudaimonia through war and that because of peace many have lost the eudaimonia that they had. No one of these things is simply bad or good, but however one handles situations and opportunities, so must the result be from them. Those who are faring well ought to desire peace, because in this condition someone might preserve for the longest time what he has. But the unfortunate ought to give their attention to war, because from the confusion and innovation they might more quickly find a change in their fortunes” (6.­49–­50). “Those who advise you to make peace say that it is necessary for those thinking well not to have the same way of thinking about events when they are enjoying success and when they are not. They tell you to plan always in regard to the present situation and follow your fortunes and not think greater than your power, and not to seek what is just in such times 94

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but what is beneficial. . . . ​But no one could persuade me that one should consider anything more useful than what is just. For I see that laws are established for the sake of justice, and good and noble men seek honor in it, and the ­well-­governed cities are especially serious about it. Also, all the wars of the past were decided not on the basis of the military powers but on the basis of justice, and, in general, the lives of men are destroyed by wickedness but preserved by virtue. So it is not those who are going to face the dangers of war on behalf of what is just who ought to be dispirited but much more those who are insolent and unable to bear in a moderate way their successes. . . . “If you run risks on behalf of what is just, you can expect to compete better than your enemies” (6.­34–­36, 6.38). Attributed to an Athenian admirer of the Lacedaemonians: “Those devoted to war are much superior to those devoted to peace. The peaceful are not skilled in acquiring what they do not have or in protecting what they do have, but the warlike can do both, both take what they desire and protect what they once acquire. Those who seem to be perfect men do these things” (12.242).

some additional statements of isocrates himself on war “I am surprised if some do not think that those battles and victories that occur contrary to justice are not more shameful and more criticized than the defeats that happen with no wickedness. They know that great but wicked forces many times are stronger than men who are serious and choose to run the risk of dying on behalf of their fatherland. . . . ​Someone might say that it is negligence of the gods that sometimes good men fare worse in competition than those willing to commit injustice” (12.­185–­186). “One ought not to consider all deaths in wars good and beautiful; only those for the fatherland, parents, and children are praiseworthy. Those that harm all these things and sully previous accomplishments one should consider shameful and avoid as causes of much disrepute. I think it is beneficial for you, Philip, to imitate the way cities manage wars. When they send out an army, all cities customarily put their government and planning group into a place of safety. Therefore their power is not destroyed if a single mishap happens but is able to endure many misfortunes and recover” (Epist. 2.­4–­5). “There have been many terrible wars after which those who settled them became the cause of great good things for one another” (5.42). 95

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“I think it is clear to all that it is fitting for those who think well to consider in times of war how they will by any means gain the advantage over their enemies but when there is peace to make nothing more important than their oaths and treaties” (14.23).

on treaties Those who wish to be free ought to avoid the treaties that arise from commands, since they are close to slavery. They ought to make treaties either when they are superior to their enemies or have military power equal to theirs. Each party will then have a peace that is like the settlement they make of the war. (6.51) “Treaties are what are equal and impartial for both parties, but commands disadvantage the one of the two groups unjustly” (4.176). “All are accustomed to negotiate about what is just with those who defend themselves, but with those who too readily do what is assigned they always add on more demands to those that they had in mind initially, and so it happens that those who are hostile find a better peace than those who easily make agreements” (6.39). “It has never been profitable for you to violate written agreements with others or for others those with you. Written contracts have such power that most things of life exist through them for both Greeks and barbarians. Trusting in written agreements, we travel to one another’s lands and we provide ourselves with those things that we each need. With written agreements we make contracts with one another and settle private hatreds and common wars” (18.­27–­28).

on laws Language established laws about what is just and unjust and what is shameful and good. If these things had not been sorted out, we would not be able to live with one another. (3.7) “I think all would agree that laws are responsible for the most and greatest goods in the lives of humans. But the use of laws by nature brings benefit only in matters that concern the city and in the contracts we make with one another” (15.79). 96

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“Seek laws that are absolutely just and beneficial and ­self-­consistent, and in addition to them laws that make disputes as few as possible and settlements as quick as possible for the citizens” (2.17). “Those who govern themselves rightly ought not to fill their stoas with written laws but ought to have justice in their souls. Cities are governed well not by decrees but by personal habits. Those who have been raised badly will dare to transgress even precisely written laws, but those who have been educated well will be willing to abide by even simple laws. . . . “There are two ways of encouraging people to unjust actions and of stopping them from wicked behavior. Among those who make no defense against such things and whose legal decisions are not precise, even those of good natures are corrupted. But where it is not easy for those acting unjustly to escape attention or, if detected, to find sympathy, there evil habits disappear” (7.41, 7.­46–­47).

on constitutional systems Here I offer Isocrates’ general thoughts on monarchy, aristocracy, and democracy. Many of these general thoughts are in the writings concerning Nicocles, the king of Cyprian Salamis from 374 to about 361 BCE. In To Nicocles (2) Isocrates gives advice to the young king. In Nicocles (3) he purports to be Nicocles giving advice to his subjects. Together they present an elaborate and full defense and description of monarchy but also numerous comments on oligarchy and democracy as compared to monarchy. They give not only Isocrates’ views of constitutional forms but also ­wider-­ranging comments on the proper and improper ways of ruling and being a subject under any constitutional system. These passages will be introduced and then supplemented by quotations from Isocrates’ other writings. For these general ideas applied to historical and contemporary times, see chapter 6.

All would agree that monarchy is the greatest, most revered, and most ­fought-­over of the divine and human goods. (9.40) “Look at the tyrannies established in the cities and how many men are eager for them and are willing to suffer anything to acquire them. But what terrible or difficult things do not attend these tyrannies? As soon as they get tyrannical power, are tyrants not enmeshed in so many evils that they are forced to make war on all their citizens, to hate those from 97

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whom they have suffered no bad thing, to distrust their friends and comrades, and to entrust their personal safety to mercenaries, men whom they have never even seen before? And they must fear their guards no less than those plotting against them. They must be so suspicious toward all that they cannot confidently even draw near to their closest relatives, because they know that some of those who have been tyrants before them have been killed by their parents, or by their children or brothers, or by their wives. And their families have been wiped out. But still they subject themselves voluntarily to so many misfortunes. And when the leading men and those with the greatest reputations desire such evils, why ought we to be surprised at others if they desire such things?” (8.­111–­113). On Perdiccas of Argos, the founder of the Macedonian dynasty: “He acquired his rule, thinking bigger than his fellow citizens and desiring monarchy, but he did not plan in the same way as others striving for such honors. They acquired this office by creating civil wars, chaos, and slaughters in their own cities, but Perdiccas left Greek lands entirely and was eager to establish a kingship in Macedonia. He knew that the Greeks are not accustomed to enduring monarchies but other peoples are not able to manage their lives without monarchy. . . . ​Alone of the Greeks he did not think it right to rule a kindred race and thereby was able to escape the dangers that arise in monarchies. We would find that those who establish a monarchy among the Greeks are not only themselves destroyed but their families are wiped out. But Perdiccas himself lived his life in eudaimonia and left to his family the same honors that he himself had had” (5.­106–­108).

king nicocles’ views of monarchy, oligarchy, and democracy, to his subjects, as written by isocrates It is worthwhile to love the present government [monarchy] not only because you must or because we have lived with it for all time but because it is the best form of government. (3.12) Note how very highly Isocrates thought of the young king Nicocles: “I and others have noticed that you both first and alone of those who have a kingship and live in wealth and luxury have undertaken to practice philosophy and work hard. You will make many of the kings emulate your education and desire your studies and give up the things in which they now excessively take pleasure” (9.78). In turn, Isocrates puts into the mouth 98

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of Nicocles praise of the type of discourse that Isocrates was writing: “I consider best, most royal, and especially fitting for me discourses that give advice about practices and forms of government, and of them those that teach monarchs how it is necessary to handle the masses and that teach private citizens how they ought to be disposed toward their rulers. I see that through these, cities become greatest and most have eudaimonia” (3.10). “I think it seems most terrible to all people that good men and wicked men are deemed worthy of the same things, but it most just that distinctions be made about these things, that dissimilar men not receive similar things, and that each person fare and be honored according to his worth. Oligarchies and democracies seek equalities for those who share in citizenship, and in them it is a matter of good repute that one man not be able to get more than another. This benefits the wicked. Monarchies distribute most to the best man, and then second most to the second man, and third most and fourth most to the others according to the same scheme. And if this is not the situation everywhere, well, such is the intent of this form of government. All would agree that monarchies better distinguish between the natures of the people and their actions. And what thinking person would not choose to participate in a form of government in which the good man will be known rather than be carried along with the multitude, not being recognized for what kind of person he is? Moreover, we might judge monarchy to be milder to the degree that it is easier to pay attention to the thought of one man than to seek to please many and all types of ways of thinking. . . . “We would see best how much monarchies excel in planning and doing the necessary things if we would compare the greatest activities to one another and attempt to examine them. Those in a democracy going into offices each year become private citizens again before they perceive and have experience in any of the matters of the city. But those in a monarchy always oversee the same matters, and even if they are inferior by nature, they have a great advantage over the democrats by their experience. The democrats neglect many things, looking to one another, but monarchs neglect nothing because they know that everything must happen through them. Those in democracies and oligarchies harm the public interests because of their competition for honor against one another, but those in monarchies do not have anyone to envy and do the best things possible. The democrats act too late for public matters because they spend most of their time on their private matters, and when they come to meetings, one might see them many times arguing rather than planning together. 99

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Monarchs do not have designated meetings and times, but because they are engaged in public affairs day and night, they do not miss opportune moments but do each thing at the necessary time. Democrats are ill tempered and would like the officers before them and contemporary with them to administer the city as badly as possible so that they themselves may acquire the greatest good reputation. . . . ​And what is most important, monarchs treat public affairs as their personal ones, but democrats attend to them as if they were others’ business. Democrats use as advisers those who are most bold; monarchs select and use those who are most thoughtful. Democrats honor those who are able to speak before crowds; monarchs, those who know how to handle affairs. Monarchies not only are superior in everyday matters but also have all the advantages in wars. They are more able than other forms of government to prepare and use armed forces so as to escape the attention of the enemy and anticipate them, and to persuade some of the enemy, to force others, to buy off others, and to win over others by other services. . . . “Those who to the end are governed by monarchs have the greatest powers. Those who enjoy a good oligarchy appoint, for what things they are especially serious about, only one general or king in authority over the armies, but those who hate monarchies, when they send out many officials, accomplish nothing of what is necessary. . . . “I wish to make my character a model for the other citizens because I know that the multitude likes to spend their lives in the practices in which they see their rulers spending theirs. . . . “Kings ought to be better than private citizens to the extent that they have greater honors, and they do terrible things if they force others to live an orderly life but do not present themselves as having more sōphrosynē than their subjects” (3.­14–­16, 3.­17–­22, 3.25, 3.37, 3.38). “And if I must talk about ancient things, it is said that even the gods have a king, Zeus. If the story is true, it is obvious that even they prefer this form of government. And if no one knows this for certain, at least we guess and so have assumed about them, and this is proof that we all prefer monarchy, for we would not be saying that the gods use it if we did not think that it was far superior to other forms of government” (3.26).

isocrates’ advice to kings Most of the advice in the following is drawn from Isocrates’ discourse To Nicocles (2). To Nicocles was written in 374 BCE, and twenty years later 100

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Isocrates recalls the discourse to his fellow Athenians: “I will appear having discussed with Nicocles like a free man and in a way worthy of our city, not fawning upon his wealth or power but defending his subjects and making as much as I could his government as gentle as possible for them” (15.70).

The work of kings, all would agree, is to stop a city’s misfortune and to guard its prosperity and to make it large from small. It is for these purposes that all other daily events must be handled. And it is obvious that those who will have these powers and plan about such things must not be lazy or neglectful but must consider how they will administer more thoughtfully than others. For it has been shown that they will have the kind of kingship that they prepare their thinking to be. And so no athlete ought to train his body as much as kings their souls. (2.­9–­11) “It is fitting for all people to make good thinking of importance, but especially for you who are in authority over the most and greatest things” (9.80). “I criticize monarchies because, when monarchs ought to train their good thinking more than others, they are worse educated than private citizens” (15.71). “Whatever you wish to understand precisely of those things that it is fitting for kings to know, pursue by both experience and philosophy. Practicing philosophy will show you the way; training in action will make you able to handle events. Observe the things that happen and result for both private citizens and kings. If you remember past things, you will plan better about future ones” (2.35). “Those who rule as kings rightly ought to try to keep not only the ­cities that they rule in harmony but also their own families and the places in which they dwell. All these things are the products of sōphrosynē and justice” (3.41). “Take care of the multitude and consider it highly important to rule in a way pleasing to them, realizing that those oligarchies and other governments last longest that serve best the multitude. You will lead the people well if you do not allow them to be insolent and do not overlook it when they are treated insolently but if you examine how the best will hold the honors and the others will in no way be treated unjustly. These are the first and greatest elements of a good government. . . . “Wish to be a r­uler-­type not by your harshness or by punishing severely but by all being won over by your good thought and by all thinking that you plan better for their safety than they do. Be warlike by your 101

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knowledge and preparations but peaceful by not seeking to gain an advantage contrary to what is just. . . . “Envy not those who have acquired the greatest power but those who have used best the power that they have, and think that you will have perfect eudaimonia not if you rule all men with fears and dangers and evil but if you are such as you ought to be and if, acting as you do now, you desire moderate things and fail in no one of these. Acquire as friends not all those who want to be but those who are worthy of your nature, nor those with whom you will most pleasantly spend your time but those with whom you will best administer the city. Make careful tests of those with you, knowing that all those who do not have contact with you will think that you are like those you deal with. Put such men in charge of things that are not done through you since you yourself will be held responsible for whatever they do. . . . “I believe that you, Nicocles, not one of the many but king of the many, must not have the same way of thinking as others. You must not judge serious things and ­good-­thinking people by the pleasures they give but must test them in useful activities” (2.­15–­16, 2.24, 2.­26–­27, 2.50). “Monarchs suffer from a lack of advice. Most people never approach them, and those who are with them consort with them only to win their favor. . . . “A good adviser is the most useful and kingly of all possessions” (2.4, 2.53). “Consider trustworthy not those who praise everything you say or do but those who criticize your mistakes. Give freedom of speech to those who think well in order that you may have fellow testers of those things about which you are in doubt. Distinguish between those who craftily flatter you and those who serve you with goodwill in order that the wicked may not get more than the good. Listen to what they say about one another, and try to discern at the same time what kind of people are the ones speaking and about what they are talking. Punish with the same punishments those who make false accusations and those who commit crimes” (2.­28–­29). “Those monarchs who have sufficient loftiness of soul honor frankness as a useful thing, but those who are weaker in their natures than the license they have are annoyed with it as if it forces them to do something they prefer not to do. They do not realize that those who dare to contradict them about what is beneficial in fact create the most freedom for them to do what they wish. For it is reasonable that, because of those who choose to speak to please, not only are monarchies, which have many 102

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dangers in their train, unable to endure, but not even other governments that have greater security. But because of those who speak frankly for the best cause, many even of those matters expected to be lost are saved. For these reasons those who reveal the truth ought to be more rewarded by all monarchs than those who speak to win their favor but say nothing deserving this favor” (Epist. 4.­5–­6). “Some kings, when they get control of very much money and the ­greatest affairs, because they do not handle these opportunities well, have made many debate whether it is worthwhile to choose the life of those who live privately and have moderate prosperity over the life of monarchs. When people look upon the monarchs’ honors and wealth and powers, all think the monarchs ­god-­equal. But when they consider the fears and dangers and see some monarchs destroyed by those by whom it was least fitting and others forced to commit wrongs against their closest family members, and both these things having happened to some, they think it is more profitable to live in whatever way than to be king of all Asia amid such misfortunes” (2.­4–­5). “Nothing can be done sensibly if you do not first calculate with much forethought and plan how you ought for the remaining time to take charge of yourselves and what life you ought to choose, what reputation to strive after, and whether to love those honors that come from willing citizens or those from unwilling ones. After you have distinguished these matters, you must consider how your everyday actions aim at these initial principles. If you search and practice philosophy in this way, you will aim with your soul at what is beneficial as if it were a set target, and you will more attain it. But if you do not create any such set of principles and attempt to do whatever comes up, you must necessarily wander in your thinking and fail in many undertakings. Perhaps someone of those who prefer to live randomly might attempt to dispute such reasoning. . . . ​But to me the life of private citizens seems to be preferable and better than that of monarchs, and I believe the honors one receives in other constitutions are sweeter than those in monarchies. . . . ​And yet I realize that I will have many who oppose me, and especially those around you. I think they not least of all are inciting you to become monarchs because they do not consider in every way the nature of the thing but deceive themselves. They see the license to do whatever one wishes and the profits and pleasures and they expect to enjoy these, but they do not see the chaos and fears and misfortunes that befall monarchs and their friends. They have suffered the same thing that those who undertake the most shameful and illegal deeds do. They are not unaware of the wickedness of their acts, but 103

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they hope they will seize what is profitable in them but will escape all the ­terrible bad things that attend them. And they hope that they will manage their own affairs so as to be far from the dangers but close to the benefits. I envy for their lazy thinking those who think like this” (Epist. 6.­9–­14). “You must be ­people-­loving and ­city-­loving. It is not possible for someone to rule well over horses or dogs or men or anything unless he enjoys those things of which he must take care. . . . “Make your city safe for all foreigners and ­law-­abiding in respect to contracts. Value most not those who come bringing gifts to you but those who are asking to receive something from you, for by honoring such men you will more have a good reputation with the others” (2.15, 2.22). “Consider the safest protection of your person the virtue of your friends and the goodwill of the citizens and your own thoughtfulness. Through these one might especially be able to acquire and preserve monarchies. . . . “Free the citizens from many fears and don’t want those who have committed no injustice to be fearful. Just as you make others feel toward you, so you will feel toward them. Do nothing in anger, but give the appearance of it to others when it is opportune. And appear frightening by the fact that nothing that happens escapes your attention, but gentle by the fact that you make the punishments less than the crimes” (2.21, 2.23). “Seek laws that are absolutely just and beneficial and s­elf-­consistent, and in addition to them laws that make disputes as few as possible and settlements as quick as possible for the citizens. . . . ​Make work profitable for the citizens but lawsuits subject to punishments in order that they will avoid the one but be more eager for the other. Make judgments about what disputes they have with one another not on the basis of favoritism and not inconsistently, but always make the same decisions about the same things. For it is fitting and beneficial for the opinion of kings to be unshakable in matters of justice, just like good laws. Manage the city like your ancestral household, in its appointments in an illustrious and royal way and in its affairs strictly, so that you may have a good reputation and enough resources. Show your grandeur of spirit not in expensive things that immediately disappear but in the beauty of your possessions and in good services to your friends. Such expenditures will last for you yourself, and you will leave things worth more than they cost to your descendants. . . . “Be luxurious in your clothes and jewelry, but remain steadfast as kings ought to in your other practices in order that those who see you may think that because of the way you look you are worthy of your rule, but those who are with you may have the same opinion because of the strength of your soul” (2.­17–­19, 2.32). 104

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“Don’t be lazy and think that you have taken the kingship as if it were a priesthood, but neglect pleasures and pay attention to events” (15.71). “Consider it terrible for worse men to be ruling their betters and for the more foolish to be giving orders to those who think better. The more vigorously you dishonor the folly of others, the more you will train your own thinking” (2.14; cf. 15.72). “Alter or change those assignments and practices that are not good. Invent yourself the best ones, but if not that, then imitate the ones that are right among others. . . . “Consider that those who spend money are spending your money and that those who work are increasing your money. For all the property of those inhabiting the city is the property of those who are good kings” (2.17, 2.21). “You must pay attention to how you will surpass others in virtues as much as you excel them in honors. . . . “Rule yourself no less than the others, and consider it most kingly if you are a slave to no one of the pleasures but have power over your desires more than over the citizens. . . . “Do not expect that others live orderly when their kings live disorderly, but make your sōphrosynē an example for others, knowing that the character of the whole city is like that of its rulers. Let it be a sign to you that you are ruling well if you see your subjects becoming more prosperous and having more sōphrosynē because of your care” (2.11, 2.29, 2.31). “Accept no association randomly or thoughtlessly but get accustomed to finding pleasure in those activities from which you yourself will improve and you will seem to others better. Don’t appear craving honor in such things as even the evil are able to accomplish, but take pride in virtue, in which the wicked have no share. Consider the truest honors to be not those that are public and are accompanied by fear but when people being by themselves admire more your judgment than your good fortune. If you happen to find pleasure in something lowly, try to escape attention, but show yourself being serious about the greatest things. . . . “Try to be polite and dignified. Dignity befits a monarch; politeness is fitting for social intercourse. And this is the most difficult of all my prescriptions, because you will find for the most part that the most dignified are cold and the ones who want to be polite appear humble. . . . “Try to preserve safety for both yourself and for your city, but if you are forced to face danger, choose to die well rather than to live shamefully. In all your activities remember your kingship and think how you will do nothing unworthy of this office” (2.­29–­30, 2.34, 2.­36–­37). 105

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“Think it terrible that some private citizens are willing to die in order that they may be praised after they die, but kings do not dare to employ those practices from which they will have a good reputation when they are alive. Wish to leave behind images of your virtue more than those of your body” (2.36).

nicocles on his own justice as king Isocrates has Nicocles claim, “I have never treated anyone unjustly,” and he offers the following as evidence of his justice as king: “When I entered office, I took over a palace empty of money, with it all spent, and affairs were full of chaos and needed much attention, guard, and expense. I knew that others in such situations set aright their own affairs in any way ­possible and were forced to do many things contrary to their natures. I was not corrupted by any of these things, but I took care of affairs in a manner so good and religiously correct that nothing was lacking from which the city could grow and advance in eudaimonia. And I dealt with the citizens with such gentleness that no exilings, deaths, or confiscations of property, or any other such misfortune occurred in my kingship. . . . ​So far am I from desiring the property of others that while others strive to get more and seize territory if they have even a bit more power than their neighbors, I did not think it right even to accept property given to me, but I choose only to have my own with justice rather than to acquire through wickedness many times as much as I have” (3.­31–­35; cf. 3.41, ­44–­45).

nicocles on his own s ō phrosynĒ as king Although Nicocles had the power to do whatever he wished, he did not sexually pursue children and women other than his wife. “I have still more things to say about sōphrosynē. I know that all people value most their children and wives and are especially angry at those who commit wrongs on them, that hybris in these matters is the cause of the greatest ills, and that many rulers and private citizens have been destroyed because of this. I therefore so avoided these accusations that from the time I became king I will appear to have had sex with no one but my wife. . . . ​I saw that many are in control of their other activities but even the best men are overcome by their passions toward children and women. I wanted to show that I was able to be steadfast in those things in which I was going to excel not only 106

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others but also those who are proud of their virtue. In addition, I charged great wickedness against those who had married and made a w ­ hole-­life partnership but then were not content with what they had done but by their own pleasures caused grief to these from whom they demanded that they themselves not suffer grief. In any other partnerships they present themselves as good, but in those with their wives they commit wrongs. One ought more to protect these partnerships to the degree that they are more in the family and greater than other partnerships” (3.36, ­39–­40; cf. 3.­ 37–­38, 45). “I did not have the same opinion about having children as most kings. I did not think that I ought to have some children from a humbler woman and others from a more respectable one, or that I should leave behind some of my children bastards but others legitimate” (3.42).

isocrates’ advice for subjects of kings “Imitate the character of kings and pursue their practices. For you will seem to approve of them and to emulate them, and as a result you will more have a good reputation among the crowd and you will have the kings’ goodwill more secure. Obey the laws established by kings, but consider their character the strongest law. Just as in a democracy the citizen must serve the crowd, so also when living in a monarchy it is fitting to admire the king” (1.36).

king nicocles’ advice to his subjects, in the words of isocrates “I have spoken at length . . . ​in order to leave no excuse for you not to do willingly and eagerly whatever I advise and assign. Each of you ought to do carefully and honestly those things that he superintends. . . . ​Neglect and scorn none of my assignments. . . . ​Be concerned with my affairs no less than with your own, and do not think a small good the honors that they receive who oversee well my affairs. “Keep your hands off others’ property in order that you may possess your own family properties with more security. You ought to be such concerning other men as you expect me to be concerning you. Do not be eager to be wealthy more than to appear good, knowing that those of the Greeks and barbarians who have the greatest reputations for virtue are the masters of the most good things. Think that illegal making of money will 107

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create danger, not wealth. . . . ​Do not be annoyed at any of my assignments. Those of you who make themselves useful in most of my affairs will most benefit their own families. “Do not think that I will not know what each of you knows. Think that, if my person is not present, my mind attends everything that happens. If you think like this, you will plan about everything with more sōphrosynē. Do not conceal anything you possess or do or intend to do, knowing that many fears must arise concerning hidden affairs. Do not seek to play a political role craftily or out of sight, but do it so simply and openly that no one, even if he wishes, can easily slander you. Evaluate your actions and think that those that you want to escape my attention are wicked but that those are good for which, when I hear about them, I will think better of you. Do not keep silent if you see some being wicked concerning my rule, but bring them to judgment and think that those who conceal such things deserve the same punishment as those who do them. Judge successful not those who do some evil without attracting notice but those who commit no wrong. . . . “Do not establish clubs or associations without my knowledge. Such groups in other forms of government create advantages, but in monarchies they are dangerous. Keep away not only from wrongdoings but even from such practices in which suspicion must arise. Consider my friendship to be most safe and secure. Protect the current system and do not desire any change, knowing that because of chaos cities and families of individuals are destroyed. “Do not think that only their personal natures are the cause of kings being harsh or gentle. It is also the character of the citizens. Many monarchs have been forced to rule more harshly than they wish because of the wickedness of their subjects. Do not feel more confidence because of my gentleness than because of your own virtue. Consider my safety your freedom from fear. If my situation is good, yours will be the same. You must be humble in regard to my rule, remaining in our customs and abiding by the royal laws, being illustrious in services on behalf of the city and in the other things assigned by me. “Lead the younger people to virtue not only by giving advice but also by showing them in actions what sort of people good men ought to be. Teach your children to obey. . . . ​If they learn how to be good subjects, they will be able to rule many. If they are trustworthy and honest, they will share our good things, but if they become evil, they will risk what they have. Think that you will hand down to your children the greatest and most secure wealth if you are able to leave to them my goodwill. . . . 108

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“Consider my words laws and try to abide by them, knowing that those who most do what I wish will most quickly be able to live as they themselves wish. And the chief point, you must be concerning me what you think your subjects ought to be concerning you. . . . ​If I present myself as I have in past time, if you serve me, quickly you will see that your life has advanced, my rule has increased, and the city has had eudaimonia” (3.­47–­59, 3.­62–­63).

on the monarchy of the persians “It is not possible for those who are raised and governed like the Persians to share in virtue or to set up a trophy over the enemy in battles. How could in their practices arise a clever general or a good soldier? Most of them are a crowd that is disordered and without experience in dangers, without stamina in war, better trained for slavery than our household slaves. Those of the highest repute never lived on terms of equality, community, or political activity but spend all their time acting insolently toward some and slavishly toward others. So would people especially be corrupted in their natures and because of their wealth would indulge their bodies in luxury. They have souls that are humble and very fearful because of the monarchies, ­cross-­examined at the royal palaces, groveling, and in every way practicing humble thinking. They fall to their knees before a mortal man and call him a god, but they neglect the real gods more than humans” (4.­150–­151).

to timotheus, ruler of heracleia pontica, 345 BCE Timotheus ruled Heracleia P ­ontica—​­ that is, the Heracleia on the southwestern coast of the Euxine ­Sea—​­from 346 to 338 BCE. His father, Clearchus, had been a student of Isocrates and established himself as tyrant of Heracleia. Clearchus died in 353 BCE, and after a regency Timotheus assumed the role. This advice was given to Timotheus one year into his own rule. “You must seek and use philosophy to determine in what way and with whom and with which advisers you will set aright the misfortunes of your city and direct the citizens to worthwhile work and sōphrosynē and will make them live more pleasantly and more confidently than in the past. 109

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These are the tasks of those who rule rightly and thoughtfully. Some rulers, scorning these things, consider nothing else except how they themselves will spend their lives with the most licentiousness and will harm and confiscate the property of those who are best, wealthiest, and most thoughtful. They understand badly that it is fitting for those thinking well and holding this office not to prepare pleasures for themselves by the evils of others but to give the citizens more eudaimonia by their own attentions; nor is it fitting for them to be bitter and harsh to all people but to neglect their own safety. But they ought to oversee affairs so gently and lawfully that no one dares to plot against them, and they ought to create safety of their own person with such precise attention as if all want to kill them. If they think in this way, they would themselves be out of danger and would have a good reputation among others” (Epist. 7.­3–­5). “I hear that Cleommis of Methymnē has this royal power and is good, noble, and thoughtful about other matters and is so far from killing any of his citizens, or exiling them, or seizing their property, or doing any other evil thing that he provides much safety to his fellow citizens, brings back the exiles, and gives back to them their property when they return. . . . ​ In addition he arms all the citizens, thinking that no one will attempt revolution against him. But if some dare this, he thinks it is profitable for him to die after he has shown such virtue to the citizens rather than to live longer when he has been the cause of the greatest evils for the city” (Epist. 7.­8–­9).

on busiris, a mythical king of eg ypt Busiris had a long and unusual tradition in Greek literature and art before Isocrates’ time. He was, in fact, an archetypal villain, a mythical king of Egypt who sacrificed all male foreigners who landed there. Heracles was to be sacrificed when he arrived, but he broke free and killed Busiris. The scene is a favorite on Attic pottery and in Athenian comedy. Isocrates’ unusual and unlikely praise of Busiris is in the fashion of his praise of Helen in Encomium of Helen (10). “Busiris began from where men who think well ought to begin. He took a piece of land that was as good as possible and found sufficient sustenance for those around him. Then he divided up the people: some he put into the priesthoods; others he directed to the arts and crafts, and others he 110

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required to practice the arts of war. He thought that the necessities and surpluses must come from the land and the arts and crafts, and that the safest protection of these was practice in war and proper respect toward the gods. He included all the types of people from which someone might best administer public affairs, and he assigned the same people always to undertake the same activities. He knew that those who change their occupations are expert not even in one task but those who remain constantly in the same activities complete each task exceptionally well” (11.­15–­16; cf. 11.20).

on evagoras, the model king Evagoras had ruled Cyprian Salamis from 411 BCE until his assassination in 374 BCE, and in his eulogy of him (9) Isocrates presents him as a model king personally, morally, and politically. He exemplified virtually all that Isocrates recommends for kings and princes, and so Isocrates’ portrait of him provides a fitting conclusion to this section. “Evagoras as a boy had beauty, strength, and sōphrosynē, the most appropriate of the good things for those of such an age. One might make as witnesses of his sōphrosynē his classmates among the citizens, of his beauty all those who looked upon him, and of his strength all the contests in which he defeated his peers. . . . ​W hen he became a man all these qualities increased, and in addition he acquired courage, wisdom, and justice, and these things not in a middling way or as they are for other men but each of them to an extraordinary degree” (9.­22–­23). “Evagoras was most naturally gifted in intelligence and able to succeed in most things but still did not think he ought to be neglectful or act offhandedly in public affairs. He spent most of his time inquiring, thinking, and planning, believing that if he trained well his thinking his kingship also would be good. He was surprised at those who devoted attention to their souls for other reasons but did not think at all about the soul itself. He had the same way of thinking about his affairs. He saw that those who best take care of the things about them suffer the fewest griefs and that true relaxations are not in idleness but in good activities and resoluteness. He left nothing unexamined but so precisely knew what was going on and each of the citizens that neither did those who were plotting against him get the jump on him nor did good men escape his notice. All received what they deserved because he did not punish or honor citizens from what he heard from others, but he made his judgments about them from what he knew himself. 111

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“Engaged in such practices he made no errors, not even one, about everyday matters, but he administered his city in such a ­god-­loved and philanthropic way that those who came to the city did not envy Evagoras more for his kingship than they did his subjects. He all the time continued committing injustice against no one but honoring good men. He very much ruled all, but he punished wrongdoers in accordance with the laws. “He had no need of advisers but still consulted with his friends, yielding in many matters to his friends but dominating his enemies in all things. He commanded respect not by frowns but by the established principles of his life. . . . ​He took pride not in what resulted from good luck but in what he himself brought about. He kept his friends in service to him by his benefactions and enslaved the others by the greatness of his spirit. He was feared not by being harsh to many but by far surpassing them in his character. He controlled his pleasures and was not led by them. . . . “In sum, he lacked nothing that kings ought to have. He chose the best part from each form of government, being democratic in his service to the people, skilled in politics in his administration of the whole city, skilled in military matters in his good planning for dangers, and a ruler by his superiority in all these areas. . . . “He took a city that had been reduced to a barbarian state and that, because of the rule of the Phoenicians, did not admit Greeks, did not know the crafts, did not practice trade, and did not have a harbor. He set all of this aright and in addition acquired much additional territory, put walls around the city, had trieremes built, and by other constructions so increased the city that it was inferior to no Greek city. He created so much power for the city that many of those who before scorned it now fear it. . . . ​ Who might duly praise such a character, a man who not only made his city worth more but brought all the region surrounding his island to gentleness and moderation? Before Evagoras took the kingship, the people of the region were so unapproachable and harsh that they considered those rulers best who were most savage toward the Greeks. But now [­370–­365 BCE] they have changed so much that they compete to seem the most Philhellenic, and most of them take Greek wives, have children with them, and delight in Greek possessions and practices more than in their own. And in these places more of them now spend time in the liberal arts and the rest of education than in those things that they had been accustomed to do. And everyone would agree that Evagoras is the cause of all these things. “There is very great proof of Evagoras’s character and religious correctness: many good and noble Greeks have left their own fatherlands and 112

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come to Cyprus to live, believing that the kingship of Evagoras is less burdensome and more ­law-­abiding than their governments at home. . . . “What element of eudaimonia did Evagoras lack, a man who had ancestors unlike anyone else . . . ​and so excelled others in his body and mind that he was deemed worthy to rule not only Salamis but also all Asia? He acquired his kingship in the finest way and finished his life as the king. He was born mortal but left an immortal memory of himself. He lived long enough to enjoy a portion of old age but not to share in the diseases that arise because of it. In addition, what seems most rare and difficult, he had numerous and good children. . . . ​And the greatest thing, he left no one of his children with just private titles, but one was called king, some were called princes, and others princesses. And so if any of the poets have used exaggerated language about anyone of those born before, saying that he was a god among men or a mortal divine spirit, all such words would be suitable to be said about Evagoras” (9.­41–­51, 9.­71–­72). “If any mortals have become immortal because of their virtue, I think that Evagoras too is worthy of this gift” (9.70).

additional thoughts on democracy For the greatest and most illustrious cities, we will find that democracies are more beneficial than oligarchies. (7.62) It is not just for the stronger to rule the weaker. We recognized that in those times and now in the form of government we have. (8.69) In a democracy the citizen must serve the crowd. (1.36) In addition to articulating the views of democracy expressed to and through Nicocles in the previous pages, Isocrates made the following general comments, especially in Areopagiticus (7). “In most of my discourses I will appear criticizing oligarchies and their strivings for more but praising democracies and their e­ qualities—​­not all democracies, but the ones that are good. . . . “I wish to show you that I am not an oligarch or one trying to get more, but I desire a just and ordered government. Democracies badly established are responsible for fewer misfortunes, and those well governed excel by being more just, more communal, and more pleasant for those in them” (7.60, 7.70). 113

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“How might anyone find a democracy more secure and just than the one that puts the most capable men in charge of its affairs and then puts the Dēmos in authority over them?” (7.27). “It contributed most to their good government of the city that the people then knew the more useful of the two types of equalities, the one giving the same thing to all, the other giving what is appropriate to each. They were rejecting as unjust the equality that deems good men and wicked men deserving of the same things. They were choosing the equality that honors and punishes each person according to his worth, and through this they were managing the city, not selecting their officials by lot from all people but choosing the best and most capable for each task” (7.21). “One ought not to consider that the city has eudaimonia that ­randomly gathers together many citizens from all people but the one that ­preserves the race of those who founded the city from the beginning, and one ought to emulate not those who have gotten tyrannies or who have more power than is just but those who are worthy of the greatest honor and are content with the honors given by the people. No man or city could acquire a condition that is more serious, more safe, or worth more” (8.­89–­90). “You ought to consider democratic not those who were eager to share in its activities when the people were in power but those who were willing to face danger on your behalf when the city had suffered misfortune, and you ought to be grateful not if someone himself suffered badly but if he did good things for you, and you ought to pity not the poor who have lost their property but the poor who spent all their money on you” (18.62). “It would be most terrible of all things if when our city is a democracy we do not all have the same rights, if we claim the right to share in the offices but deprive ourselves of justice in the laws, and if we are willing to fight and die on behalf of the democratic government but then give more favor to the rich in our votes in the courtroom” (20.20).

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If you remember past things, you will plan better about future ones. (2.35) Deeds that have occurred before are left behind as common property to all of us, but to make use of these in opportune moments, to come to appropriate thoughts about each of them, and to set them forth well in words is unique to those who think well. (4.9) Some might say I am strange because I dare to speak so precisely about events at which I was not present when they happened. But I think all this is logical. If I alone were trusting what is said about things long ago or what has been handed down to us in the writings from that time, I might reasonably be criticized. But many sensible men would appear also to have experienced the same thing I have. In any case, if I were put to the test, I could show that all men have more knowledge from hearing than from seeing and that they know finer and greater deeds that they have heard from others than those at which they themselves were present. (12.­149–­150)

I

socrates casually divides the Athenian past into periods, sometimes using internal political events and other times, foreign or civil wars. His first period is the Age of Kings, from the autochthonous emergence, “from the soil of the Acropolis itself,” of the Athenians to King Theseus, whom he dates around 1600  BCE. Theseus resigned his kingship and handed over the city to “the people,” and what they established was, in Isocrates’ view, a highly aristocratic democracy, but still primarily a democracy. For clarity I will term this the Aristocracy, and it survived, according to Isocrates, not less than a thousand years.

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Under the Aristocracy he places Athenian colonization, the Trojan War, and, about 766 BCE, the Dorian invasion and takeover of most of the Peloponnesus and the creation of Sparta. Solon (594  BCE) and Cleisthenes (508  BCE) refashioned the Athenian Aristocracy into the Democracy. Then came the Persian Wars, with the victory of the Athenians and repulse of the Persians at Marathon in 490 BCE and with the Greek decisive victories during the second invasion at Salamis in 480  BCE and Plataea in 479 BCE. After the Persian Wars the Athenians established “rule over the sea,” a major turning point in Isocrates’ view for both Athenian internal and external affairs. In 478 BCE they founded and headed the Delian League, a coalition of Greek states formed by Athenians in the aftermath of the Persian Wars to free and defend Greek cities in Asia Minor and on the Aegean islands. The Athenians soon transformed the Delian League into their sea empire, and I term this period, from the founding of the Delian League in 478 BCE until the final defeat of the Athenians by the Lacedaemonians in 404 BCE, “the Empire.” Within the late Empire (­411–­ 403 BCE) the Athenians experienced two brief periods of seizure of power by oligarchs, the rule of the Four Hundred established by an internal revolution (411 BCE) and the rule of the Thirty Tyrants installed by the Spartans after their defeat and occupation of Athens in 404 BCE at the end of the Peloponnesian War. I term this the “Period of Oligarchies.” In 403 BCE the Democracy was restored, and Isocrates makes no further distinctions of period for the years ­403–­338 BCE. And so, in rough terms, I will attempt to present Isocrates’ views of Athenians and of Athenian and Greek history in terms of the following periods: 1. Age of Kings (from beginnings to ca. 1600 BCE) 2. Aristocracy (from ca. 1600 BCE to 594 BCE) 3. Democracy of Solon and Cleisthenes (­594–­411 BCE) 3a. Persian Wars (­490–­479 BCE) 3b. Empire (­478–­404 BCE) 4. Period of Oligarchies (­411–­403 BCE) 5. Restored Democracy (­403–­338 BCE) Assigning Isocrates’ comments to one of these periods is not always easy or necessarily exact. Sometimes, especially in Panathenaicus (12), he is quite specific. Sometimes the specificity in one work allows an assignment of the same event in another work to a specific period. Colonization, for example, is given without clear time reference in Panegyricus (4) 116

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but is assigned to the Aristocracy after the Dorian invasion in Panathenaicus. Sometimes Isocrates introduces events of various periods in one paragraph, defense of the sons of Heracles and the defeat of Xerxes, for example, and I separate these out. Isocrates, of course, is not to blame for these ­difficulties—​­he never intended to write history. Isocrates’ accounts of Athenian and Greek history should always be seen in context of his own contemporary time. His praises of the virtues and policies of King Theseus, the Homeric heroes, and of the Athenian Aristocracy and early Democracy are almost all intended to illustrate by contrast and to give models by which to correct the vices of his own time. His description of the evils of the Athenian empire is a warning against similar imperialistic aspirations of his own time, nearly a century later. Isocrates’ use of history is certainly not history for its own sake but rather a tool for moral and political education.

1. age of kings (from beginnings to ca. 1600 BCE) The Benefactions and Exceptionalism of Athens In Panegyricus (4), a discourse he wrote as if it were to be delivered before Greeks of many countries during the Olympic Games of 380 BCE, Isocrates argues for Athenian leadership in a Panhellenic expedition against Persia. As major elements of his argument Isocrates introduced the antiquity of Athens and its many benefactions to the Greek world at large. He claims as a fact that it is agreed that Athens is the “most ancient and greatest city and is the most famous among all men” (4.23), and he adds that Athens is responsible for most of the greatest good things that the Greeks have, including almost all the most important human institutions “under which we Greeks inhabit lands as we do, with which we govern ourselves, and through which we are able to live” (4.­26–­27). The antiquity of Athens is based on its claim to autochthony, to Athenians having been born from the soil of Athens itself. The Athenians alone can call their land their “mother,” “fatherland,” and “nurse” (4.25). They “love their land like the best people love their fathers and mothers” (12.125). They alone of the Greeks are autochthonous (12.124). Unlike other Greeks (and he probably has in mind especially the Lacedaemonians), the Athenians “did not expel others from the land, did not occupy a land deserted by others,” have continuously inhabited this land, and are a pure 117

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race, “not a mixed one collected from other peoples.” They were born “well and legitimately” (4.24, 12.124). For an international audience Isocrates does not relate the purely Athenian story of Hephaestus’s sperm falling on the soil of the Acropolis and thereby begetting the first Athenian, the myth underlying Athens’s claim to autochthony. He simply credits it to “good fortune” (4.26). But in Panathenaicus (12), for Athenians, he mentions briefly Erichthonius’s birth from Hephaestus and Gaia. The Athenians “were born from the gods” (12.­124–­126). In On the Peace (8), again to his fellow Athenians, Isocrates claims that we “are smug and pride ourselves on having been born better than the other Greeks,” but, being autochthonous, “it is fitting that we be an example to all people of good and orderly government” but now (355 BCE) are not (8.­49–­50). This was a time when the terms “oligarchy” and “democracy” were not yet known. All, Greeks and barbarians, were ruled by kings. So, too, the Athenians, but even then the Athenian rulers were better than others, surpassing them in all the virtues, “always showing proper respect toward the gods and justice toward men.” Athenian kings differed from their counterparts elsewhere “as much as the most thoughtful and gentle men differ from the wildest and most savage animals.” They did none of the awful things that kings of other countries were doing: “murders of brothers, fathers, and xenoi; incest and begetting of children with and killing of mothers; eating of children by their closest family members; the banishment of their kin; and drownings and blindings,” all providing unlimited topics for the Athenian tragedians (12.­119–­124). The good king Theseus in particular differed from contemporary rulers. He saw that other kings, “seeking to rule against the will of their peoples, were in fact slaves to others and in making life dangerous for their subjects were living afraid themselves. They were forced to use their own citizens to make war against invaders but also to make war on their fellow citizens with the aid of foreigners. They robbed sanctuaries, killed the best citizens, and distrusted their closest kin.” They were envied for externals but personally they feared for their lives. Theseus thought them plagues of their own citizens, but by his own ruling style “showed that it was easy to be a king and yet be in no worse a situation than individuals being governed under equality” (10.­32–­34). It was also the time, well before Theseus, when Athens conferred its first and greatest benefit on all the Greeks. Because of their kind treatment of her at Eleusis, Demeter gave to the Athenians the cultivation of grain, by which humans can live, and the Eleusinian Mysteries, by which they can have “sweeter hopes” concerning the afterlife. And the 118

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Athenians shared both with the Greek world. This was “the greatest, the first, and the most widely shared of the benefactions” of the Athenians. These are the kind of “benefactions that because of their magnitude have been talked about and remembered by all men everywhere both long ago and now” (4.­27–­34). It was Theseus who in the period of kings united the villages of Attica into one city (the synoikismos) and created one shared fatherland. By doing this he made the city “so great that it is still now [370 BCE] the greatest of the Greek cities” (10.35). In foreign affairs the Athenians under the kings prided themselves on “serving the weaker” and “defending those being treated unjustly,” “choosing to help them even to their own disadvantage rather than joining those stronger in committing injustices for the sake of profit.” Under Theseus they helped Adrastus secure the burial of the Argive dead from the Thebans and saved the sons of Heracles from Eurystheus and the Argives. Both involved admitting foreign suppliants and granting their just requests, a common theme in Isocrates and in Athenian tragedies. All this enhanced the good reputation of Athens. The Athenians also viewed themselves as fighting for the freedom of Greek cities, freedom from slavery to the barbarians. They endured “many terrible and great contests, some for their own land, some for the freedom of others.” Some of these wars they fought alone, as against the Amazons of Scythia and Thracians under Eumolpus, and, of course, later against the Persians at Marathon, all of whom, “intending to enslave the Greeks, attacked Athens first.” And they all were decisively defeated (4.­52–­61, ­67–­70, 10.31; cf. 4.83, 5.129, 7.75, 12.­168–­174, ­193–­196).

Theseus, King of Athens The Athenians then were so “­god-­loved that, which seems most rare, some of their royal families survived for four or five generations.” Erichthonius received the kingship from the childless Cecrops, and “beginning then all the ones born after him, and there were many, handed down their property and powers to their own children, until Theseus.” Theseus was the last in the long line of kings, living about 1600 BCE. “It is the greatest proof of his virtue and good thinking” that, after having accomplished many good things in war and in administration of the city and while enjoying safety, prosperity, and ease of his kingship, at his prime “he chose 119

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to pursue an eternal reputation from labors and contests” and handed over the administration of the country to the people (12.­125–­130). For Isocrates Theseus was thus the founder of democracy, as Isocrates defines it; for us he was the founder of the Aristocracy. In the Encomium of Helen, an epideictic piece for a Panhellenic audience of about t­hirty-­two years earlier, Isocrates gives a somewhat different account. There Theseus was wanting to put the Dēmos in authority over the government, but the people asked him to continue ruling, “believing that his monarchy was more trustworthy and communal than their own democracy. For he did not, like other kings, assign labors to others and he himself alone enjoy the pleasures, but he made the dangers his own and gave the benefits to the community. Therefore he ended his life not plotted against but loved, protecting his rule not by a foreign army but by having as his bodyguards the goodwill of the people (10.­36–­37). In his encomium of Theseus in the Encomium of Helen (10.­18–­38), Isocrates attributes all the virtues to the king: courage in his labors, expertise in war, proper respect for the gods in the affairs of Adrastus and the sons of Heracles, and sōphrosynē in governing the country and in all other matters. He was a contemporary of Heracles, but, in Isocrates’ judgment, was superior to him. Although his labors are less famous and less great,1 Theseus performed them of his own free will, not ordered to do them as was Heracles, and he accomplished those that benefited his fatherland and other Greeks, not just himself (10.­23–­25, 31).

2. aristocracy (from ca. 1600 BCE to 594 BCE) Athens’s Domestic Affairs In previous times their “kings had so educated the Athenian people in virtue, justice, and abundant sōphrosynē” that now they were able to manage their city better than other Greeks could. Though not experienced in political affairs, these Athenians “chose a constitution that would be commonly agreed to be not only the most communal and most just, but also the most beneficial and most pleasing to those who use it.” They chose as “leaders those who desired the new form of government and who were of like character to the previous kings.” They did not allow as advisers those whose bodily matters were open to criticism, who wasted their inheritances on shameful pleasures, or tried to use public funds to bolster 120

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their private fortunes, or said only what would win public favor, or “just pretended to love the common people,” or claimed to be concerned for other Greeks but caused them trouble and alienated them by malicious prosecutions. They put into office individuals preselected by demesmen and tribesmen, individuals who were elected and not chosen by lot. And these offices were a burden and not much sought after. The new officers had to neglect their private possessions to deal with public ones. Good officers were rewarded with moderate honors and a subsequent office, but bad ones were shamed and severely punished. The common people were relieved of the burden of holding office, but they were in authority over the officers and could punish wrongdoers. In only a few days they established ­laws—​­only a few but easy to comprehend, just, s­ elf-­consistent, and more concerned with public practices than private legal contracts. They chose as generals and ambassadors those who had proven their worth in discussions of domestic affairs. It was, in Isocrates’ judgment, “a true democracy, secure and beneficial to the common people” (12.130, ­138–­148).

The Trojan War In Isocrates’ scheme of history the Trojan War must have occurred very early in the Athenian Aristocratic Period. Most readers of Homer would assume it was in the Age of Kings, but since the sons of Theseus fought in the Trojan War and Theseus was the last Athenian king, the Trojan War had to fall under the new Aristocracy. In Isocrates’ opinion it was in history the war greatest “in the magnitude of the anger, in length of time, and in the multitude of forces.” At risk was whether the Greeks would be slaves to the barbarians. But Europe won its first victory over Asia and after that war advanced so much that it took much territory and great cities from the barbarians (10.49, ­67–­68). Isocrates has high praise for the Homeric heroes. “Achilles, Ajax, and Teucer gave the greatest and clearest proof of their virtue. Not only were they the leading men in their own cities and in the regions in which they lived, but when the expedition against the barbarians took place, when many on both sides were gathered together and no famous man was left behind, in these dangers Achilles surpassed all, and after him Ajax was best. Teucer was worthy of his lineage and inferior to no one of the others” (9.­17–­18). Isocrates praises also Nestor, “the b ­ est-­thinking of all those at that time,” and Menelaus, “who because of his sōphrosynē and justice alone was deemed worthy to become a son‑in‑law of Zeus” (12.72). In Panathenaicus (12) he permits himself a digression to offer a long encomium of Agamemnon, who possessed to a 121

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high degree “not one or two but all the virtues” but, like Isocrates himself, never received the good reputation he deserved. Agamemnon was chosen to rule, or at least acquired rule, over all Greece and “delivered the Greeks from the wars, chaos, and many evils in which they were living.” “He gathered an army and led it against the barbarians, and no one will appear to have ever made an expedition that was finer or more beneficial to the Greeks.” Agamemnon held the army together “not by paying high wages to troops or by spending lots of money, but by excelling in his thinking, by providing sustenance from the enemy’s territory to his troops, and by seeming to plan better about the safety of others than they could about their own.” This expedition, the Trojan War, “was in theory for Helen, Menelaus’s wife,” but in fact was to prevent the barbarians from doing what foreigners had done earlier: Pelops (from the region around Mt. Sipylus, in Asia Minor) seizing the Peloponnesus, Danaus (from Egypt) taking Argos, and Cadmus (from Phoenicia) becoming king of Thebes. “In theory, again, Agamemnon made war against one city, but in fact it was against all the barbarians inhabiting Asia and many other tribes of barbarians.” Agamemnon did not quit “until he enslaved the city of the wrongdoer [Alexander/Paris] and stopped the barbarians from their insolence” (12.­72–­83). And, for Isocrates, the Trojan War was the beginning of the Athenians’ everlasting hatred of the barbarians (12.42). In his encomium of Helen years earlier Isocrates naturally features her more in the causation of the war. There the combatants “were not fighting for the sake of Alexander or Menelaus, but for Asia and Europe, because they thought that that continent in which Helen’s body [or person] resided would have more eudaimonia” (10.51).2 By somewhat tortured logic Isocrates still brings the Trojan War back to a combat between Europe and Asia, between Greeks and barbarians, for their futures (10.68). In To Philip (5) Isocrates claims of the heroes of Troy that “we know that even the most famous and best of them held kingships in little towns and on little islands, but still they left behind a godlike reputation famous among all people. That is because all love not those who have acquired very great power for themselves but those who have been responsible for the most good things for the Greeks” (5.­144–­145). The Homeric heroes are second only to Heracles in excellence and to Theseus in virtue (5.144). When he wishes to praise Philip’s ancestor Heracles to Philip, Isocrates is not unwilling to denigrate a bit the Trojan heroes: “Heracles made an expedition against Troy, which at that time had the greatest military force of those in Asia. He so surpassed with his generalship the ones that later warred against this same city that they with 122

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the military force of the Greeks with difficulty took the city by siege in ten years, but he in fewer than ten days and having campaigned accompanied by few easily took it by force” (5.­111–­112). So, too, in his eulogy of King Evagoras (9), who, “having just one city, made war against the whole of Asia while the Homeric heroes, with the whole of Greece, took only Troy. If as many people had wished to praise Evagoras as those heroes, he would have received a much greater reputation than they” (9.65). I cannot leave Isocrates’ account of the Trojan War without giving the very Isocratean (and amusing) motives Isocrates attributes to Paris/Alexander for his decision to choose Aphrodite’s gift (marriage to Helen) over Hera’s (rule over all Asia) and Athena’s (success in wars) in the divine beauty contest that began the chain of events leading to the war: “Paris was overcome by the sight of the goddesses and unable to decide concerning their bodies and therefore was forced to decide on the basis of their gifts. He chose living with Helen instead of all the other things. He was not looking toward the pleasure, and even though this is more desirable than many things for those who think well, he still did not go in this direction. He was eager to become a son‑in‑law of Zeus, thinking that this was a much greater and finer honor than kingship of Asia. Great empires and powers sometimes come even to lowly people, but no one afterward would be deemed worthy of such a woman. And, in addition, he thought he could leave no finer possession to his children than to make them not only on their father’s side but also on their mother’s side descendants from Zeus. He knew that other good fortunes quickly change, but noble birth always remains with the same people, and so his choice would be for his whole family, but the other gifts would be for only his own lifetime” (10.­41–­44).

Athenian Benefactions to Greek World during the Aristocracy Through new involvement with both the Greeks and barbarians of Asia Minor, the Athenians under the Aristocracy brought numerous and major benefits to the Greek world. They saw Athens alone well administered but other Greek cities suffering many ills, including wars, chaos, and poverty. “They thought that those who thought better and were faring better than others must not neglect and overlook cities of the same kinship being destroyed but must plan and act to deliver them all from the present evils” (12.164). “Our city saw that the barbarians held most of the land and that the Greeks were closed into a small space and because of a scarcity of land were plotting against and making military expeditions against one 123

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another. Some were perishing because of a lack of everyday necessities; some because of wars. Our city did not overlook this situation but sent out leaders to the Greek cities. They enlisted those most in need of a livelihood, set themselves up as generals, and defeated the barbarians. They founded many cities on each continent, settled all the islands, and saved both those who followed them and those who stayed behind. For the one group they left sufficient land at home; for the other they provided more land than they had before, because they encompassed all the land that we Greeks now hold. And so they made it very easy for those who later wished to send out colonies and to imitate our city, because they did not need to face dangers in acquiring land but could go and settle in the land that had been marked out by us. Who could show a leadership that was either more ancestral than the one that occurred before most Greek cities were founded or more beneficial than the one that uprooted the barbarians and led the Greeks to such prosperity? . . . ​No one of the good things that exist for us humans not from the gods but through one another exists without our city, and most of them exist because of it. Our city found the Greeks living without laws and dwelling in scattered ­settlements—​­some of them being treated insolently by dynasts, some being destroyed because of anarchy. Our city delivered them from these evils by becoming in authority over some and by making itself an example for others. First it made laws and established a system of government for them. . . . ​It invented some of the arts and crafts, both those useful for everyday life and the ones devised for our pleasures, and after having tested and approved of others it gave them over to other Greeks to use” (4.­34–­40). “Our ancestors attempted to settle the quarrels in the ­less-­sick cities by embassies and arguments. To those cities more in civil discord they sent out their most reputable citizens, who advised them about their current problems. These envoys joined with those who were not able to live in their own cities and were in a worse state than the laws dictated, people who for the most part harm their cities. These men they persuaded to campaign with them and to seek a better livelihood. Many wanted these things and were persuaded. From them our ancestors formed armies, and they completely defeated the barbarians holding the islands and those dwelling on the coast of each continent. They expelled the barbarians and settled there the Greeks especially needing a livelihood. They continued doing these things and demonstrating them to others until they heard that the Spartiates had subjected the cities in the Peloponnese. After this our ancestors were forced to tend to their own affairs. What, then, is the good that resulted from the war about colonies and those troubles? I think many 124

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really want to hear this. The Greeks became more prosperous in everyday things and more in concord . . . , the barbarians were banished from their own lands and were less proud than before, and those responsible for these things earned a good reputation and seem to have made Greece twice as big as it was in the beginning. I could not find a greater benefit than this from our ancestors, nor one more widely shared” (12.­165–­168; cf. 12.190).

The Dorian Invasion of the Peloponnese In Archidamus (6) Isocrates has the Spartan prince date the incursion of the Dorians into the Peloponnese four hundred years before his time, or about 766 BCE (6.27). After Eurystheus (the king of Argos who assigned Heracles his labors) died, the orphaned sons of Heracles had wandered in Greece and eventually settled in Doris, in central Greece. In the third generation after this, the ­now-­Dorian direct descendants of Heracles were ordered by Delphi “to go to their ancestral land.” They thought of Argos, for reasons of kinship, and of Lacedaemon, because Tyndareus had given the land to Heracles because of his good services in restoring him to power, and of Messenē, because Heracles had once held it and entrusted it to Nestor. They formed an army, giving their private lands to their followers as public property but keeping the kingship in their family. They invaded and campaigned in the Peloponnese with a small army but defeated many great cities. After their victories in the Peloponnese, they divided the newly acquired territory into three kingships: Argos, Messenē, and Lacedaemon, an agreement sealed by a treaty and oaths. The Messenians, however, killed their king and founder, Cresphontes, a descendant of Heracles. His children appealed to the Spartans and offered their land to the Spartans. With Delphi’s approval, the Spartans besieged Messenē and took possession of it (6.­16–­33, 82).

3. democracy of solon and cleisthenes (­5 94–­4 11 BCE) Athens’s Domestic Situation This is the period Isocrates defines as the time “before the Athenians got rule over the sea” (8.74), a time when the Athenians were using the “more precise” democracy that “the most democratic Solon created by laws [594  BCE] and that Cleisthenes restored, who expelled the tyrants 125

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and led back the people [508 BCE]” (7.16 and 57). Solon, “the first citizen in Athens to be called a sophist,” one of the best orators and enjoying the greatest reputation, was chosen as the “leader of the Dēmos.” “He made laws, arranged public matters, and prepared the city in such a way that the administrative structure he put together is still [in 355 BCE] loved” (15.­ 231–­232, 313). Pisistratus, who seized power in Athens as a tyrant around 561 BCE and ruled off and on until his death in 527 BCE, was an interruption in this era, “a demagogue who harmed the city in many ways, who exiled the best citizens on the claim that they were oligarchs, and who in the end destroyed the power of the Dēmos and established himself as tyrant” (12.148). Before he seized power, the powerful family of the Alcmaeonidae, who were kinsmen of Pisistratus, were on good terms with him, but “they did not think it right to share in his tyranny. They chose to go into exile rather than see their fellow citizens serving as slaves.” Pisistratus and his sons “had their homes razed and their tombs dug up.” But in exile the Alcmaeonidae were so trusted that they became leaders of those opposing Pisistratus, and Alcibiades I and Cleisthenes, both Alcmaeonidae, as commanders “led the Dēmos back from exile and cast out the tyrants.” Cleisthenes, a great orator, “restored the Dēmos to power [508 BCE] and established the democracy that was responsible for the greatest good things for the Greeks.” He was a superior kind of person, of the right family. He, too, enjoyed a good education and knew both how to speak and how to think (15.232, ­306–­308, 16.­25–­27).

The Great Generation of Athenians Among the many arguments Isocrates offers in Panegyricus (4) for his proposed Athenian leadership of a new invasion of Persia is his laudatory description of what we (and he) might term the ‘Great Generation of Athenians,’ those living just before and during the Persian Wars. For them, as for himself throughout his writings, Isocrates places strong emphasis on a good reputation. Privately those Athenians “judged ­eudaimonia not by money but thought that the person possessed the most secure and best wealth who did those things from which he himself would get an especially good reputation and would leave that behind for his children. They did not admire rashness in others or practice it themselves, but they thought it was more terrible to be ill spoken of by their fellow citizens than to die well on behalf of their city” (4.­76–­77). Or, put another way, in the Persian Wars “they were readily willing to die for the reputation that they would have after they died” (4.83). 126

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“The Dēmos then was not filled with idleness, poverty, and empty hopes” (8.75). Rather, people “had learned how to work hard and be thrifty, not to neglect their family matters and to plot against others’ property, nor to manage their own finances from public monies, but to use their own resources to help public needs.” “Tendance of public affairs was not a ­money-­making business but a service” (7.­24–­25). The young men then, under the oversight of the Areopagus Council of former archons, “did not spend their time in gambling houses or with flute girls.” They avoided the Agora. “No young man, not even a good slave, would have dared to eat or drink in a tavern.” They did not argue with their elders or speak abusively to them. The young men engaged in the practices to which they were assigned: the poor in occupations such as farming and business, the wealthier in horsemanship, hunting, training in the gymnasia, and in philosophy. Of these wealthy young men, “some developed excellence, but others were at least kept out of very many vices” (7.­44–­45, ­48–­49). The young then had all these virtues as the result of good education and proper oversight of their “good order,” primarily through the Areopagus Council. The Areopagus Council, made up of “the w ­ ell-­born who had demonstrated much virtue and sōphrosynē in their lives,” oversaw the “good order” of all. “It criticized some, threatened others, and punished, as was fitting, still others” (7.­37–­39, 46). “When it was in authority, the city was not full of lawsuits, accusations, tax levies, poverty, and wars. Athenians were tranquil toward one another and at peace with all other Greeks. They made themselves trusted by the Greeks and feared by the barbarians” (7.51). The Areopagus Council “rescued the poor from need by the work and benefits given them by the prosperous, the younger men from lack of restraint by their practices and attention, the governing from their greed by the fines and by the fact that those committing injustices did not escape attention, and the elders from depression by the honors from the city and the services from the younger” (7.55). Isocrates throughout his career was concerned with poverty among his fellow Athenians, and he describes how in this period the Great Generation worked to ameliorate that. “Not only were they in agreement about public affairs, but also regarding private life they had such concern for one another as befits those who think well and share a fatherland. The poorer were so far from feeling envious ill will at the richer that they were as concerned about the great families as they were about their own. The poor believed that the eudaimonia of the rich meant prosperity for them. 127

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And those with property not only did not scorn those faring worse but defended them against poverty, because they assumed that the poverty of their fellow citizens was a shameful thing for them. They rented out to the poor farmlands at moderate interest rates, sent some out to trade abroad, and gave start‑up money to others for other occupations. . . . ​They thought that the poor are harmed more than the rich because of those who made contracts untrustworthy. The rich, if they stop lending, will lose a little revenue, but the poor, if they lack what just suffices, will go into extreme need. On this reasoning no one was trying to conceal his property or hesitating to make loans. They were happier seeing people borrowing money than paying it back, because both things that thoughtful men would wish were resulting: the rich were at the same time helping their fellow citizens and were making their own assets productive. And the sum of their associating well with one another was that for the rich the property that they justly had was safe, and there was common use of it for all their fellow citizens in need.” As a result, “no citizen lacked the necessities or by begging from passersby brought shame on the city” (7.­31–­35, 83). In public affairs, “their government was better and stronger than the later one, as much so as Aristides [a commander at the battles of Salamis, 480 BCE, and Plataea, 479 BCE], Themistocles [ca. ­524–­459 BCE, commander at the Battle of Salamis], and Miltiades [leading general at the Battle of Marathon, 490  BCE] were better than Hyperbolus [a politician who died in 411 BCE], Cleophon [a strongly ­anti-­Spartan demagogue, executed in 404  BCE], and the demagogues now [in 355  BCE]” (8.75). People “felt more shame at wrongs committed by the city than they now [380 BCE] feel at their own” (4.77). “Those Athenians did not neglect public affairs, or profit from them as if they were their own property, or treat them carelessly as if they belonged to others. They cared for public money as if it were family property but kept their hands off it, as one should from things that do not belong to him.” “They watched carefully that their laws would be precise and good, not so much those about private business contracts but those about everyday practices. . . . ​They made civil conflicts not to determine which group would kill and rule others but to see who first might do something good. They created political clubs not for personal benefits but to aid the multitude” (4.­76–­79). Those Athenians “did not make their livelihoods like pirates, at one time having more than they needed; at another, suffering a lack of food and sieges 128

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and the greatest evils. They did not have a lack or an excess of everyday sustenance. They felt honor in the justice of their government and in their own virtues, and they lived their lives more pleasantly than others” (8.90). “They handed down to their descendants a city that they had provided with more eudaimonia and left an immortal memory of their own virtue” (8.94). “The people at that time managing the city did not establish a constitution that was called by the most communal and gentle name [“­democracy”] but then in its actions did not appear such to those who encountered it. . . .” “It contributed most to their good government of the city that the people then knew the more useful of the two types of equalities, the one giving the same thing to all, the other giving what is appropriate to each. They were rejecting as unjust the equality that deems good men and wicked men deserving of the same things. They were choosing the equality that honors and punishes each person according to his worth, and through this they were managing the city, not selecting their officials by lot from all people but choosing the best and most capable for each task. . . .” “They considered this way of appointing officials more democratic than through drawing lots. In allotment chance will make the decision and many times those who desire oligarchy will obtain the offices, but in selecting the best men the Demos [Dēmos] will have the authority to choose those who especially love the existing constitution. . . . ​And, to sum up briefly, they had recognized that it is necessary for the Dēmos like a ruler to appoint the offices and to punish the wrongdoers and to decide disputes; for those who have leisure and a sufficient livelihood to attend to public affairs as servants; and for those who have been honest to be praised and to be content with this honor, but for those who have administered badly to find no pity but to suffer the greatest punishments. How might anyone find a democracy more secure and more just than the one that puts the most capable men in charge of its affairs and then puts the Dēmos in authority over them?” (7.­20–­27). In religious matters the Athenians of this generation “did not serve the gods or perform their rites erratically or in a disorganized way. They did not, whenever it came into their minds, send in procession three hundred cattle or give up the ancestral sacrifices. . . . ​They kept careful watch only that they did not do away with any of the ancestral things and add anything beyond the traditional things. They thought proper respect for the gods resided not in extravagant expenses but in not disturbing any of those things that their ancestors handed down to them. Therefore what came from the gods for them happened not surprisingly or chaotically but 129

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in a timely way for both the working of the land and the gathering of the crops” (7.­29–­30).

Athens’s Foreign Affairs In foreign affairs Isocrates would have these Athenian forebears “serving, not treating insolently, the Greeks, thinking they ought to act as their generals, not as tyrants over them. They desired to be called leaders and saviors rather than despots and destroyers because they won over other cities by treating them well and not by overthrowing them by force. They employed words more trustworthy than oaths are now [380  BCE] and thought it right to abide by treaties like absolute necessities. . . .” And, as a variant of the Golden Rule, “they thought they should have the same way of thinking toward their inferiors as their superiors should have toward them. They thought the Greek cities were just individual towns, but Greece was their common fatherland” (4.­80–­81).

3a. The Persian Wars ( ­490–­479 BCE) battle of marathon (490 BCE)

In 490 BCE Darius, the king of Persia, sent out an infantry and cavalry expedition on six hundred ships against Athens. This was in response to Athens’s support of the revolt of the Ionian Greek cities against Persia and attack on and burning of Sardis, one of Darius’s capital cities, eight years earlier. The Persians with about twenty thousand men landed at Marathon, on the coast of Attica, ­twenty-­six miles northeast of Athens. At the urging of Miltiades, the ­nine-­thousand-­member militia of the Athenians marched out to Marathon quickly and with the aid of only the Plataeans routed the Persians, killing 6,400 and losing only 192 of their own. That effectively ended the first Persian invasion of Greece. Earlier Athenians “assumed that . . . ​the war with the aid of the Greeks against the barbarians who by nature are hostile to us and who are always plotting against us was most necessary and most just” (12.163). “Those sent to Greece by Darius came to sack Greece, but when they landed at Marathon, they encountered more bad things and greater misfortunes than they expected Athenians would cause them, and they left fleeing from all Greece” (12.195). “Our ancestors and the Lacedaemonians were always in 130

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competition for honor against one another, but in those times they competed about the best things. They considered one another not enemies but rivals, not serving the barbarian for the slavery of the Greeks but in agreement about the common safety. . . . ​And they showed their virtues first in those who were sent against Greece by Darius. When Darius’s forces landed in Attica, our ancestors did not wait for the allies but made their own the common war against those who scorned all Greece. They met them with just their own army, a few against many thousands, as if they were going to run the risk with others’ lives, not their own. The Lacedaemonians, as soon as they heard of the war in Attica, neglected everything else and came to defend us. They took it as seriously as if their own land were being sacked. And there is an indication of their haste and rivalry. They say that our ancestors on the same day learned of the landing of the barbarians and rushed off to the boundaries of their land to help and, after defeating the enemy in battle, set up a trophy over them. The Lacedaemonians went out with their army and in three days and three nights covered twelve hundred stades [132 miles]. So very much they hurried, the Lacedaemonians to share in the dangers, but the Athenians to enter battle before those who were coming to help arrived” (4.­85–­87; cf. 16.27). “Think about what kind of man Miltiades was, the man who defeated the barbarians in battle and acquired for the city the good reputation that resulted from that.” He was one of those “who excel and stand out not only by their good birth and reputation but also by their thinking and speaking. . . .” (15.­306–­308).

battles of thermop ylae and artemisium, 480 BCE

As the huge expeditionary force of Xerxes, king of the Persians, moved south through Greece toward Athens in 480 BCE, the Greeks met them at two places, Thermopylae, on the mainland, and off Cape Artemisium, of Euboea. The Lacedaemonians and Greek allies attempted to hold the narrow pass at Thermopylae against the massive Persian infantry. Eventually only the Lacedaemonians, led by Leonidas, now three hundred in number, remained in the pass and were betrayed, surrounded, and all killed. The Athenians led the Greek fleet against the Persian navy and held out for two days, but on the third day, after serious losses and news of the loss at Thermopylae, retreated to the Bay of Salamis on the southern coast of Attica. 131

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*  *  * “Xerxes himself led the later invasion [480  BCE], leaving his palace and boldly becoming a general himself, and he gathered together all those from Asia.” “Xerxes gathered together thirteen hundred triremes, five million men in all on foot, seven hundred thousand of them fighting men, and with such a great force he campaigned against Greece.” “He became so arrogant that he thought it a small task to subdue Greece. He wanted to leave behind memorable actions that are not human, and he did not stop until he discovered and forced what everybody talks about: by digging through Athos he sailed with his army through the mainland, and by bridging the Hellespont he walked across the sea. The Lacedaemonians and our fathers divided up the danger against the one who had become so grandiose in his thinking and had accomplished such great things and had become ruler of so many peoples. The Lacedaemonians went to Thermopylae against Xerxes’ infantry with a thousand of their own select men and a few allies in the attempt to prevent the Persians in the narrow places from moving forward. Our fathers manned sixty triremes and went to Artemisium against the whole naval force of the enemy. The Lacedaemonians and our fathers were daring to do these things not so much in scorn of the enemy as to compete against one another. The Lacedaemonians envied our city for the Battle of Marathon and sought to make themselves our equal and were afraid that twice in a row our city would be given credit for the safety of the Greeks. Our ancestors especially wanted to preserve their current good reputation and make it clear to all that at Marathon they had been victorious because of virtue, not good luck. They also wanted to win over the Greeks to fighting at sea and show them that just as in infantry battles so in naval battles virtue is superior to numbers” (4.­88–­91, 12.49). “The Greeks admire the defeat of the Lacedaemonians at Thermopylae more than their other victories, and they admire and travel to see the trophy monument set up by the barbarians against them. . . . ​They consider this a marker of their virtue” (5.148). “The Lacedaemonians perished. They won a victory with their souls but failed with their bodies. It is not right to say they were defeated, because no one of them thought it right to flee” (4.92). In Archidamus Isocrates has the prince remind his fellow Spartans “of the thousand Spartans who went to Thermopylae and faced and fought seven hundred thousand barbarians. They did not flee and were not defeated but ended their lives in the place they had been assigned. They showed themselves such great men that those skilled in writing encomia are not able to make their praises equal to their virtues” (6.­99–­100). 132

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battle of salamis, 480 BCE

After the Athenians had evacuated their city and Persians had occupied and devastated Attica, the Athenian general Themistocles convinced the Greeks to face the Persians in a naval battle in the Bay of Salamis, on the southern coast of Attica. The Greeks won a major victory, destroying and capturing most of the Persian warships. Xerxes himself beat a hasty retreat to Persia. The remnants of the Persian navy retreated to the Hellespont, and the Persian army withdrew from Athens. Part of it returned to Persia, but the Persian general, Mardonius, set up a winter camp for a hundred thousand troops in Thessaly. “When all the allies were dejected and the Peloponnesians were walling off the Isthmus of Corinth and seeking their own safety, and when the other cities were subject to the barbarians and campaigning with them . . . , and when twelve hundred triremes were sailing toward Attica and an army of countless infantry was about to invade, with no safety appearing for them, deserted of allies and having failed in all their hopes, when they had the opportunity not only to escape the present dangers but also to receive choice honors that Xerxes was offering because he thought that if he acquired the navy of our city he would immediately have control of the Peloponnese, our ancestors did not tolerate his gifts and did not, in anger at the Greeks because they had been betrayed, gladly rush into a settlement with the barbarians but prepared to make war themselves on behalf of freedom. . . . ​W hen they were not able to draw up against Xerxes’ naval and infantry forces at the same time, our ancestors took up all the people from the city and sailed to a nearby island so that from there they might run the risk against each force in turn. How could men be shown better or more Philhellenic than those who, so as not to be the cause of slavery for others, had the courage to see their city deserted, their land sacked, their sacred things stolen, their temples burned, and the whole war centered on their fatherland? “And that was not enough for them, but our ancestors were intending to fight a sea battle alone against twelve hundred triremes, but they were not allowed to. The Peloponnesians felt shame at the Athenian virtue and thought that if our forces were destroyed they themselves would not be saved, but if our forces succeeded they would put into dishonor their own cities, and so the Peloponnesians were compelled to share the dangers. . . . ​ Our city so excelled when it was still unharmed that even when uprooted 133

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it contributed more triremes for the war on behalf of Greece than all those who fought in the naval battle. No one is so hostile to us that he would not agree that because of the sea battle we Greeks won in the war and that our city was responsible for this sea battle” (4.­93–­98). “The Spartiates, in command of the Peloponnesians, contributed only ten triremes for the sea battle that made the decisive turn of the whole war. Our fathers, after they had been uprooted and had evacuated their city because at that time it was not walled, provided more ships and a larger army than did all the allies. The Spartiates made Eurybiades their general, and if he had accomplished all he intended to do, nothing would have prevented the Greeks from perishing. Our ancestors appointed Themistocles general, the man who by common agreement seemed to have been responsible both for the sea battle occurring as they wished and for all the other successes at that time. There is great proof of this: the allies took the leadership away from the Lacedaemonians and gave it to our ancestors. Whom might someone make more credible and capable judges of what was done then than those who were present at those contests? Who could tell of a greater benefit than the one that was able to save all Greece?” (12.­50–­52). “What kind of person was Themistocles, the man who won the freedom of the Greeks, who led our ancestors to the leadership and power that they acquired, and who, in addition, saw the natural advantages of Piraeus and, although the Lacedaemonians did not wish it, put the wall around our city?” He was, like Miltiades, one of those “who excel and stand out not only by their good birth and reputation but also by their thinking and speaking” (15.­307–­308; cf. 15.233).

battle of plataea, 479 BCE

In the last of the Persian War battles on Greek soil, the Greeks with an army of about a hundred thousand, led by the Lacedaemonians and the Athenians, decisively defeated the Persian army of a hundred twenty thousand under the command of Mardonius at Plataea in 479 BCE. In this battle the Plataeans allied with the Greeks, but the Thebans fought on the Persian side. With this defeat the Persians abandoned their hopes to take Greece and never returned. In criticizing the Spartans for their later bad treatment of the Plataeans, Isocrates in Panathenaicus (12) recalls the Battle of Plataea. The Athenians, the Lacedaemonians, and their allies “drew up against the Persians, sacrificed to Plataean gods, and freed not only their Greek allies but also those 134

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Greeks who had been forced to serve the Persians. We accomplished this when we had the Plataeans alone of the Boeotians as our allies” (12.­92–­93). The Athenians “had sympathy with others who chose slavery, because they thought it was fitting for lowly cities to seek their own safety in every way but it was not possible for those cities who claimed to champion Greece to avoid the dangers but, just as it is more desirable for good and noble men to die well than to live in shame, so it was profitable for the superior cities to disappear from mankind rather than to be seen to have become slaves” (4.95)

Aftermath of the Persian Wars “What of our things is not hateful to the Persians, the Persians who in the previous war dared to steal the statues of our gods and to rob and burn down our temples? It is right to praise the Ionian Greeks, of Asia Minor, because after their sanctuaries were burned, they put a curse on any who wished to disturb or restore them to their original condition. The Ionians were not lacking the resources to repair them, but they did this in order that there would be a memorial for their descendants of the barbarians’ lack of respect for the gods and in order that no one would trust those who dare to commit such wrongs against the sacred things of the gods but would be on their guard and afraid when they saw that the barbarians had made war not only on our persons but also on our sacred dedications to the gods. I have similar things to tell also about our Athenian citizens. They reach settlements and immediately forget the hatred that has developed with others against whom they have made wars, but they feel no gratitude to the Asiatics even when they are treated well. Such an ­always-­remembered anger they have toward them. Our fathers condemned many to death for siding with the Persians, and in our assemblies still now [380 BCE], before doing any other business, they put curses on any citizen who proposes negotiations with the Persians. In the initiation of the Eleusinian Mysteries, the Eumolpidae and Kerykes [the priestly families of the Eleusinian Mysteries] because of their hatred of Persians announce even to other barbarians to keep away, as if they were murderers, from the sacred rites” (4.­155–­157). “We have been in many wars and have sometimes fallen into great misfortunes. Even though our land was frequently sacked and ravaged, we never looked to friendship and alliance with the barbarians, but we have continued to hate them more than those who treat us badly now [339 BCE] for what things they plotted against the Greeks” (12.102). 135

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*  *  * Those Athenians of the Great Generation did, however, make one mistake that the Greeks of today should avoid. “We must hurry and make no delay lest we will suffer what our fathers did. They acted more slowly than the barbarians and gave up some of our allies and then were forced to face the danger, a few against many. They had the possibility of crossing over into Asia first with the whole armed force of the Greeks and of defeating each of those tribes in turn. It has been shown that when someone is making war on people collected from many places, one must not wait around until they are established but must attack them when they are still scattered. Our fathers, then, corrected all these initial errors but got into very great contests” (4.­164–­165). In Isocrates’ summary of these events, the Athenians now (in 380  BCE) deserved the leadership in his proposed invasion of Asia Minor. “Who ought to have leadership of the future expedition against the barbarians? Is it not those who earned an especially good reputation in the previous war, who many times on their own ran the dangers and in shared battles were deemed worthy of the prize for excellence? Is it not those who evacuated their own land for the safety of others and who long ago colonized the most cities and again saved them from the greatest misfortunes? How would we not be suffering terrible things if after having had the greatest share of the evils we should be judged worthy of having less in the honors, and if then assigned in the front rank on behalf of all now we should be forced to follow others?” (4.99; cf. 7.75, 8.76). As for Xerxes himself, in a letter to Philip in 342 BCE Isocrates claims that “Xerxes, who had fallen into such great defeats and misfortunes as no one knows have befallen others, because he saved his own life kept his kingship and handed it down to his children and managed Asia in such a way that it was no less frightening for the Greeks than it had been before” (Epist. 2.7). In the Archidamus Isocrates has the Spartan prince admire the Athenian recovery from the Persian invasion and occupation of Athens. “In the Persian War who does not know from what great misfortunes the Athenians entered into such great eudaimonia? When they saw that the military 136

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force of the barbarians was invincible, they alone of those dwelling outside the Peloponnese did not think it right to deliberate about what they were being ordered by the Persians but chose immediately to tolerate their city being destroyed rather than be a slave. They evacuated their land and considered freedom their fatherland, and, having shared the dangers with us, they experienced such a change that, after having been deprived of their land for a few days, they became masters of others for a long time” (6.­42–­43; cf. 6.83).

3b. The Athenian Empire ( ­478–­404 BCE) If someone should say that Sparta and Athens were responsible for the most good things and the greatest bad things for the Greeks after the expedition of Xerxes, he would seem to those who know anything about what happened then to be speaking the truth. (12.156) After the Greeks had defeated the Persians and driven them out of Europe, the Lacedaemonians and most of the allies went home. But the Athenians sent their ships to liberate from the Persians Greek cities on the coast of Asia Minor and on the Aegean islands. In 478 BCE the Athenians created a defensive alliance against Persia, based on Delos, wherein members were to contribute either ships or money for a standing navy. Most chose money over ships, and Athens set the fees, administered the money, and provided the commanders and most of the ships. This Delian League eventually had more than two hundred members and gradually morphed into the Athenian empire. This is the period Isocrates defines as the time “after the Athenians got rule over the sea” (8.74), beginning soon after the end of the Persian Wars (4.72), but he distinguishes quite clearly actions early in the Empire from later ones. The former were done by those Athenians who had earned and had a good reputation; the latter, by those hated by other Greeks (8.47). In Panegyricus (4), of 380 BCE, On the Peace (8), of 355 BCE, and Panathenaicus (12), of 339 BCE, Isocrates offers descriptions of the p ­ ost–­Persian Wars period. “After having accomplished such great things, our Athenian ancestors did not change and did not suffer the same thing as those who because of planning well and good thinking acquired great wealth and good reputations but then because they had these in excess became 137

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arrogant, corrupted in their thinking, and were brought down to activities that were worse and more lowly than their previous ones. Our ancestors avoided such things and remained in their good habits because they had good government and took more pride in the condition of their souls and in their way of thinking than in the battles that had occurred. They were more admired by others for this steadfastness and sōphrosynē than for the courage they showed in the dangers themselves” (12.­196–­197). “From making our city just, from helping those being treated unjustly, and from not desiring others’ property we received the leadership from willing Greeks [478 BCE]” (8.30). “Our ancestors by freeing the Greek cities and helping them were deemed deserving of the leadership” (8.42; cf. 7.17, 16.27). “The Greeks were so trusting those who governed our city then that most of them willingly entrusted themselves to our city. And the barbarians so held back from meddling in Greek affairs that they were not sailing with long boats to this side of the Phaselis River and were not coming with armies west of the Halys River but were keeping very quiet” (7.80; cf. 4.­ 118–­120, 12.59). “Our city made treaties [466 and 449 BCE] with the king of Persia that are more noble and prouder. It has been responsible for the most and greatest bad things for the barbarians, the most and greatest good things for the Greeks. It also took away from the enemy the coast and much other land of Asia and acquired it for our allies. It ended the insolence of the barbarians and the poverty of the Greeks” (12.­60–­61). The Athenians’ ancestors “made themselves trusted by the Greeks and feared by the barbarians. They had saved the Greeks but they had taken such great punishment from the barbarians that they were content if they suffered in addition nothing bad” (7.­51–­52). “The Athenians and Spartans after their victory should have planned about the follow‑up, but instead fell into such madness and folly that when they might have gained power on land and sea over the king of Persia, who had campaigned against them and wanted to destroy completely both cities and enslave all the Greeks, they made a peace treaty [449 BCE] with him for all time and then entered into war and competition against one another. And they did not stop until they enabled the king of Persia to bring Athens into extreme dangers through the power of the Lacedaemonians [404 BCE] and the Spartiates into extreme dangers through the power of Athens” (12.­157–­158). “Our fathers were persuading their allies to establish democracy, a democracy that they themselves continued to love. And this is an indication of goodwill and friendship, when people advise others to use the practices that they think are beneficial to themselves” (12.54). 138

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athenian sea power and the democracy

For all this, the Athenians enjoyed goodwill from their allies and a good reputation among the other Greeks (8.78). It was also, however, the beginning of Athens’s sea empire, a ­sixty-­five-­year rule (12.56)3 because of which the earlier democracy of the forefathers was changed to the democracy as it was still in 339 BCE. “Our fathers did not in scorn of the earlier democracy rush to the one now established. They judged that the older democracy was much better about other matters but thought the new one more useful concerning sea power. They took up the new democracy and tended it well and were able to ward off the attacks of the Spartiates and the strength of all the Peloponnesians. . . . ​And so no one could justly criticize those who chose it. They did not fail to attain their hopes, and they were not unaware of either the good things or the bad things that attend each form of power, but they knew precisely that leadership on land is cultivated by good order, sōphrosynē, and obedience to authority but that sea power is increased not by these but from ships and those able to row them, men who have lost their own property and are accustomed to provide a livelihood from others’ property. When these people had entered the city, it was clear that the order of the previous government would be undone and that the goodwill of the allies would change quickly when the Athenians forced those to whom previously they were giving lands and cities to pay financial contributions and tribute” (12.­114–­116).

athenian benefactions

Because of the mention of Piraeus as a market and of the panēgyreis, the time of the early Empire would seem the best place for the following, which Isocrates does not date: “Our city made the rest of its administration so ­xenos-­loving and familylike that it suited both those who were in need of money and those who wanted to enjoy the money they had. The city was useless neither to those who had eudaimonia nor to those suffering misfortune. For the former there were most pleasant pastimes; for the latter, a very safe refuge. And since each people possesses land that is not ­self-­sufficient, land that lacks some things and bears more than enough of other things, and since it is very difficult to distribute surpluses and import what is lacking, our city brought help to these unfortunate circumstances. It built a market, Piraeus, right in the middle of Greece, and Piraeus is so superior that it is easy from it to provide all the things that it is difficult to get even individually from others. “Justly are praised those who established the panegyreis. . . . ​O ur city 139

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possesses the most and the most beautiful spectacles, some excelling in money spent on them, some famous for the skills displayed, and some excelling in both. The number of people coming to us is so great that if there is some benefit in getting people together, our city can claim this. And in addition it is possible especially in our city to find very trustworthy friendships and to come upon social associations of all types, and in addition to see contests not only of speed and strength but also of rhetoric and thought and all other activities, and for these there are the largest prizes. In addition to the prizes it awards, our city persuades also others to give them. What is approved by us receives such a good reputation that it is loved by all people. And besides this, other panēgyreis are held only at long intervals and then quickly closed, but for all who come our city is at all times a panēgyris” (4.­41–­46).

the later empire

In 454 BCE the Athenians transferred the treasury of the Delian League from Delos to Athens; this act symbolizes the transformation of the Delian League into the Athenian empire, although the transition had begun earlier. Member states, although still called “allies,” were now treated as subject states, and ­once-­voluntary financial contributions were now tribute required and strongly and sometimes brutally enforced. Some cities hitherto not members of the league were forced to pay the tribute. Athens’s power continued to expand geographically, militarily, and financially, and according to Thucydides, it was the Lacedaemonians’ fear of Athens’s growing power that led to the Peloponnesian War (­431–­404 BCE) of the Lacedaemonians and their allies against Athens and its allies. The later part of this war, from the occupation of Decelea in Attica by the Lacedaemonians in 413 BCE to the end of the war, is often termed the “Decelean War.” A decisive event was the failure of the Athenian expedition to Sicily (413 BCE), which resulted in the loss of hundreds of their ships and thousands of their men. That was followed by the defeat of the Athenian navy by the Lacedaemonians at Aegospotamoi in 405 BCE and then the total surrender of Athens to Sparta in 404 BCE.

responses to criticisms of the athenian empire

In Panegyricus (4), for a Panhellenic audience in 380 BCE, Isocrates takes on criticisms made of the Athenians during their sea empire and, as would be expected, turned each to a positive: “Some now charge against us that when we took the rule of the sea we were the cause of many bad things 140

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for the Greeks. They bring up against us the enslavement of the Melians [415 BCE] and the destruction of the Scionians [421 BCE]. But I believe first that it is not a sign that we were ruling badly if some of those who made war on us appear to have been severely punished. It is much greater proof that we were administering the affairs of our allies well that no city under us fell into these misfortunes. And second, if some others had tended to the same problems more gently, people might reasonably criticize us. But if this has not happened and it is not possible to control so many cities unless one punishes those who commit wrongs, how is it now not just to praise us, who were able to hold our rule for very much time while causing difficulties for a very few people? “I think that all agree that those will be the best leaders of the Greeks under whom those who obey authority fare best. We will find that under our leadership individual families advanced most toward eudaimonia and the cities became greatest. We did not begrudge those cities that grew, nor did we create chaos for them by introducing opposite forms of government in order that the citizens might be in civil discord but both parties might serve us. We considered the harmony of our allies to be a shared benefit, and we administered all the cities with the same laws, planning about them like allies, not despots. We oversaw their affairs in general but allowed individuals to be free. . . . ​For all this those who think well ought to have great gratitude much more than criticize us for the colonies of our own citizens that we were sending out into the deserted cities to protect the land, not because of greed. And there is proof of this. Although we had land that was, in proportion to the number of citizens, very small and an empire that was very large, and although we possessed twice as many triremes as all the others and able to fight against twice as many, and although Euboea is very near Attica, an island that was well suited to rule of the sea and in other virtues was superior to all the other islands, although we controlled it more than our own land, and in addition, knowing that of the Greeks and barbarians those especially have a good reputation who destroyed their neighbors and made life for themselves abundant and ­easy—​­despite all this nothing induced us to commit wrongs against the inhabitants of that island, and we alone of those who had gotten great power allowed ourselves to live less prosperously than those who could be called slaves. If we wished to be greedy, we would not have longed for the land of the ­Scionians—​­land that we handed over to those Plataeans who took refuge with us [427  BCE]—​­but then have left alone so much land of the Euboeans, which would have made us all more prosperous” (4.­100–­109). 141

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And of Spartan criticisms of how Athenians handled legal affairs of their allies under the empire: “The Lacedaemonians dare to talk about the lawsuits and indictments that occurred in Athens, but they killed more without trial in three months than our city brought to trial during our whole empire. . . . ​The terrible things that occurred under us could easily have been undone with one new law, but no one could heal the slaughters and illegalities under their administration” (4.­113–­114). Such was the defense against the evils that the Athenians caused during their rule that Isocrates offered to the Greek public at large in 380 BCE. But in On the Peace (8), ­twenty-­five years later, now to his fellow Athenians, Isocrates offers a quite different view of the empire. He has a different audience, but he has also developed an aversion to “rule of the sea” in general and has seen the doings and problems of the Second Athenian Confederacy of Greek states, founded in 377 BCE. The recurring theme now is that the Athenians of the empire were hated by both their allies and other Greeks. Factors contributing to this hatred were the Athenians’ private and state greed for more territory and more wealth (8.82, 93), injustice (8.93), meddling in the affairs of other cities (8.30, 108), the ability and license to do whatever they wished (8.­103–­104), and lack of restraint (8.77). “Instead of the goodwill they had had from the allies and a good reputation from the other Greeks, the city came into such hatred that it came close to being enslaved had we not found the Lacedaemonians, our original enemies, ­better-­intentioned toward us than were our previous allies [404 BCE]. We cannot justly charge that our allies were harshly disposed toward us. They were not so in the beginning, but defending themselves and after suffering many terrible things they developed such an opinion of us. For who would have endured the insolence of our fathers, our fathers who collected from all Greece the most idle and criminal men, filled the triremes with them, and so became hateful to the Greeks? They were throwing out the best men in other cities and giving their property to the most wicked Greeks” (8.­7 7–­79).

athenian errors in their empire

“I will pass over the things that are most bitter and would especially grieve you, but I will mention only those from which you will know the folly of those then governing. They were so precisely finding those things from which people might especially be hated that they voted to divide up the surplus from the tribute into talents and bring it into the orchestra at the 142

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City Dionysia when the theater was full. And they were bringing in the children of those Athenians who had died in the war. They were showing both to the allies the value of the money that was being brought in by their hirelings and to other Greeks the number of orphans and the misfortunes that arose because of this greed. In doing these things, they were trying to show the city’s eudaimonia, and many of the foolish were deeming our city blessed, but they gave no forethought to what would result because of these things. They wondered at and envied the wealth that unjustly had come into the city and that quickly was going to destroy the wealth they justly had before. “Our fathers so neglected their domestic affairs and desired others’ property that when the Lacedaemonians invaded our land and the wall at Decelea already was in place [413 BCE], they were manning triremes for Sicily, and they were not ashamed to tolerate their fatherland being ravaged and sacked but were sending out an expedition against those who had never committed a wrong against us. They came to such a degree of folly that, when they were not in control of even their own suburbs, they were expecting to rule Italy, Sicily, and Carthage. . . . “They fell upon more and greater misfortunes in the time of this empire than had happened in all previous time for the city. Two hundred triremes sailed to Egypt and were destroyed along with their crews [454 BCE], and around Cyprus a hundred fifty were lost [­449–­448  BCE]. In the Decelean War [­413–­404 BCE] they lost thousands of their own and their allies’ hoplites; in Sicily forty thousand men and two hundred forty triremes [413 BCE]; and, finally, in the Hellespont, two hundred triremes [405 BCE]. Who could count the triremes that were being lost ten at a time, five at a time, and more? Or the men dying by the thousands and two thousands? Except that this was now a recurring event, to have public funerals each year. Many neighbors and other Greeks came to these, not to grieve with us over the dead but to find pleasure in our misfortunes. In the end our fathers did not realize that they were filling the public tombs with citizens but were filling the phratries and citizen lists with those who had no relationship to the city. From that one might recognize the number of those who perished. . . . ​We will find that under the empire, which we now [355 BCE] again desire, the families of the most famous men and the greatest houses, those who had escaped the civil discord under the Tyrants and the Persian War, have been wiped out. . . . “They desired not to rule but to be tyrants. These seem to have the same meaning but differ very much from one another. It is the task of rulers to give to their subjects more eudaimonia by their attentions, but it 143

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is customary for tyrants to create pleasures for themselves by the labors and miseries of others. Those who attempt such deeds necessarily fall into misfortunes characteristic of tyrants and suffer the kinds of things they do to others. . . . “If someone should ask us if we would choose, after having ruled so much time, to see our city suffering such things, who would agree except someone completely senseless, someone who takes no thought of the sanctuaries, of his parents and children, or of any other thing except his own time?” (8.­81–­93). “How is it fitting to praise this imperial power, which has such wicked outcomes? Or how is it not fitting to hate and avoid the power that incited both cities to do many terrible things and forced them to suffer many terrible things?” (8.105).

comparison of athenian rule with spartan rule

After their victory in 404 BCE over Athens in the Peloponnesian War, Sparta began to assert her ­now-­dominant power on both land and sea, with imperialistic ambitions in northern and central Greece and domination over Greek cities of Asia Minor. Their Asia Minor ventures were slowed by a major defeat at sea in the Battle of Cnidus, in 394  BCE, and ended with the ceding of control over the Greek cities to Persia by the King’s Peace, of 386 BCE. Their defeat on land at Leuctra by Thebes, in 371 BCE, brought an end to their control of the mainland and of the Peloponnese. In the quite different context of Panathenaicus (12), near the end of his life, again to his fellow citizens, in his extended comparison of Athenian rule over the Greeks to that of the Spartans, Isocrates is more generous in his view of the empire. “Our critics commonly will go through the most unpopular of the actions that occurred in the time of our sea empire and slander the exaction of tribute and the lawsuits and indictments that took place here for the allies. They especially will spend time on the sufferings of the Melians, Scionians, and Toronians, and they think that by these accusations they will sully our city’s good services, which I have described before. I could not and would not attempt to argue against all the things that justly might be said against our city. For, as I said before, I would be ashamed if, when others believe that not even the gods make no errors, I should aspire and try to persuade people that our city has never committed a wrong about anything. . . . 144

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“If our critics mention the lawsuits that took place here for our allies, who is so stupid that he will not find as a response that the Lacedaemonians have killed more Greeks without a trial than those who have been brought to trial here from the time we have inhabited our city? And if they talk like this about the exaction of tribute, we will show that our fathers did things much more beneficial for those cities that paid the tribute than did the Lacedaemonians. First of all, our allies were not doing what was ordered by us, but they themselves decided on it when they gave to us leadership on the sea. Second, they were paying not for our safety but for their own democracy and freedom and lest they become an oligarchy and fall into such great evils as they later did in the decarchies and the rule of the Lacedaemonians. And in addition, they were paying the tribute not from their savings but from the revenues they got because of us. If they had even a little mathematical reasoning, they would be justly grateful to us, because we took up their cities, some completely destroyed by the barbarians and some sacked, and we brought them to the point that, while giving a small fraction of their revenues to us, they had private estates no smaller than those of the Peloponnesians who were paying no tribute. “About those cities that were destroyed by Athens and ­Sparta—​­and for this alone some criticize us. . . . ​We Athenians committed wrongs about islets that are of such a type and so little that many Greeks do not even know them, but the Lacedaemonians destroyed and now hold the property of the greatest and in all ways outstanding cities in the Peloponnese” (12.­63–­70; cf. 12.89). “Most charge against both cities that while they pretend to be making war against the barbarians on behalf of the Greeks, they did not allow the cities to be autonomous and to manage their own affairs in a way beneficial to each. Rather they took these cities as if they were prisoners of war, divided up their land, and enslaved them all, and they did much the same thing as those who free the household slaves of others but then force them to serve themselves as slaves. . . . ​No one could show that our ancestors over previous, countless time attempted to rule any city large or small. But all know that from when the Lacedaemonians invaded the Peloponnese they were doing and planning nothing else than how to rule all peoples and, if not all, the Peloponnesians. “Some bring up against us both the civil wars, slaughters, and changes of governments. The Lacedaemonians filled all the cities except a few with such misfortunes and diseases, but no one would dare to say that our city brought about any such thing among its allies before the misfortune in the Hellespont [405 BCE]” (12.­97–­99). 145

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“Hated for such things, both Athens and Sparta entered into a war and chaos, and in this someone would find that our city, although all the Greeks and barbarians were attacking it, was able to hold out against them for ten years [­413–­403 BCE] . . . ​and then restored itself in fewer years than it had been warred against” (12.­57–­58).

pericles, leader of athens

Pericles, the leader and a general of Athens during much of the m ­ id-­fifth century BCE, won unqualified respect from Isocrates. “Pericles, who had the greatest reputation for wisdom, justice, and sōphrosynē, campaigned against Samos [­440–­439 BCE] and defeated it with two hundred triremes and a thousand talents” (15.111). “Pericles, when he became a leader of the people, took over the city that was thinking worse than before it got the empire but was still tolerably well governed. He did not rush into private making of money but left his own family estate smaller than he had inherited it from his father. Rather, he brought eight thousand ­talents, apart from the sacred money, into the Acropolis” (8.126). “Pericles, a good leader of the people and a very fine orator, so adorned the city with sanctuaries, dedications, and all the other things that even still now [355 BCE] those who come to the city think that it deserves to rule over not only the Greeks but also all other peoples, and in addition he brought not less than ten thousand talents into the Acropolis” (15.234). “Alcibiades was raised by Pericles, who all would agree was the most just and most wise and had the most sōphrosynē of the citizens” (16.28). Pericles is the last of the ancestors (Solon, Cleisthenes, Miltiades, Themistocles, and Pericles) whom Isocrates praises for their good character, good birth, and good reputation. In this group his special contribution was that “he filled the Acropolis with silver and gold and gave individual families wealth and much eudaimonia” (15.­306–­308).

successors to pericles, after 429 BCE

The successors to Pericles were far inferior, in fact dangerous. “When the city had grown and gotten its empire, our fathers became bolder than was beneficial, and they felt an envious ill will because of their power for those good and noble men who had made the city great. They now longed for bold, worthless men. They thought that with their boldness and feistiness those men would be capable of defending the democracy and, because of their lowly station in life, would not get big thoughts and desire another form of government. What terrible thing did not befall the city as a result of this change? Which of the greatest evils did not those of such a nature 146

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bring about by their words and actions? They did not stop criticizing for oligarchic and ­pro-­Lacedaemonian sentiments the most reputable of the citizens and those most able to do some good for the city until they forced them to become like the charges that were made against them. By ­treating badly the allies and maliciously prosecuting them and expelling the best of them from their property, did they not bring it about that these allies revolted from us and passionately desired the friendship and alliance of the Lacedaemonians? And when we entered into war [431  BCE], we saw some of our citizens killed, some subject to the enemy, some coming into need of everyday necessities, and in addition, our democracy twice dissolved [411 and 404  BCE], the walls of our fatherland razed, and the greatest thing, our whole city running the risk of being enslaved and the enemy occupying the Acropolis [­404–­403 BCE]” (15.­316–­319). It seems to be in this context, the Peloponnesian War, that Isocrates describes a new Athenian foreign policy. “Our fathers thought that it was profitable and fitting for such a large city and one with such a good reputation to endure all difficulties more than the rule of the Lacedaemonians. For with two courses of action, neither good, before them, they thought it was the better choice to do terrible things to others than to suffer them themselves, and to rule unjustly others rather than, avoiding that charge, unjustly to be slaves to the Lacedaemonians. These choices all sensible men would make and want, but a few of those who pretend to be wise, if asked, would not agree” (12.­117–­118).

battle of aegospotamoi, 405 BCE

In 405 BCE the Spartan fleet under Lysander and the Athenian fleet with Conon met at Aegospotamoi, in the Hellespont. The Spartans won a total victory: a hundred sixty of the hundred eighty Athenian ships were captured, and thousands of Athenian sailors were killed. That, combined with the losses in Sicily, marked the end of Athenian rule of the sea under the Empire. Conon fled and escaped to find refuge with Evagoras, the king of Salamis on Cyprus. Lysander moved on to blockade Athens. Isocrates in 402 BCE wrote a courtroom speech (18) for a man who had been one of the trierarchs whose ships fought and lost at the Battle of Aegospotamoi, in 405 BCE; in it Isocrates gives a vivid description of the situation immediately after that sea battle. “When our city lost the ships in the Hellespont and was stripped of its power, I differed from most of the trierarchs so much that I, with a few, saved my ship and I alone, after 147

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I sailed into Piraeus, did not dissolve my trierarchy. The others were happily getting free of these services and were dispirited at the present situation. They regretted the money that they had spent and were trying to hide the rest of their money. They thought everything of common interest was lost and were looking only to their private affairs. I did not have the same thoughts, but I persuaded my brother to form a joint trierarchy with me. We paid the sailors with our own money and harassed the enemy. Finally, after Lysander announced that if anyone brought grain to us the punishment would be death, my brother and I were so seeking honor in regard to the city that, although others did not dare to bring in even their own grain, we seized the grain that was going to the Spartans and brought it to Piraeus. In return for this you voted to give us crowns and to proclaim in front of the Eponymous Heroes that we were responsible for great good things. . . . ​I was making not only my property but also my life of less importance than having a good reputation among you” (18.­59–­63).

athenian benefactions

Isocrates claims that Athens also “discovered philosophy and honored rhetoric, which all men desire, envying those who know it.” “Our city has so excelled other peoples in thinking and speaking that the students of this city have become the teachers of others, and it has made the name ‘Greek’ seem that of a race no longer but of a way of thinking. It has made those who have shared in our form of education be called Greek more than those who share in a common kinship” (4.­47–­50). Isocrates unfortunately does not temporally contextualize these contributions of Athens, but since formalized rhetoric was introduced into Athens in the second half of the fifth century BCE, a time when philosophers and their students appeared there, I have placed these developments in the present section.

4. period of oligarchies (­4 11–­4 03 BCE) Alcibiades and the Four Hundred After the loss of ships and men in the Sicilian Expedition (413 BCE) and again after the surrender to Sparta at the end of the Peloponnesian War (404 BCE), the Athenian democracy was briefly interrupted by oligarchic regimes, the Four Hundred and the Thirty. In 412  BCE Alcibiades, now in exile, promised the Athenians Persian support against Sparta if they 148

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installed an oligarchy. Alcibiades soon changed positions, and the Persian support never materialized, but oligarchs in Athens in 411 BCE did seize power, assassinated some democratic leaders, and succeeded first in limiting the citizenship to five thousand and then in installing the Four Hundred as the governing body. Faced with a prodemocratic Athenian fleet stationed in Samos and defeated in a sea battle against the Peloponnesians, the Four Hundred were deposed in 410 BCE, and the full democracy was restored. For Isocrates’ view of Athens’s situation under the Four Hundred (­411–­410  BCE) and the Thirty Tyrants (­404–­403  BCE) and the turbulent years between, the best source is the speech On the Team of Horses (16), which he wrote in 3­97–­396  BCE for the son of Alcibiades, also named Alcibiades, a defense against charges of stealing a team of racehorses. The surviving portion of the speech is Alcibiades’ defense of the career of his father against his Athenian detractors, ranging in the extracts here from Alcibiades’ appointment as one of three generals for the Sicilian Expedition and his first exile (415 BCE) to his second exile, by the Thirty (404 BCE). Alcibiades’ first exile was rescinded in 411 BCE, when he joined forces with and aided the Athenian democrats, but he did not return to Athens until 407 BCE. He went into s­ elf-­exile in 406 BCE, but in 404 BCE was apparently formally exiled by the Thirty. Despite the possibility that Isocrates is writing only what was appropriate for the son to say, it is likely that what Alcibiades claims in this speech are the views of Isocrates himself, who had himself seen these events play out. It is obvious, however, from the speech that some Athenians judged the senior Alcibiades and these events quite differently. “Those who first plotted against the people and established the Four Hundred [411 BCE], when my father was unwilling, although invited, to join them, saw that he was powerful in public affairs and was trusted by the multitudes. They believed that they would not be able to shake up any of the institutions until he was out of the way. They knew the city would be especially angry about two things: about matters concerning the gods if someone should appear committing wrongs against the Eleusinian Mysteries; and if someone dared to destroy the democracy. Therefore they put together both of these charges and introduced them into the Boulē, saying that my father assembled his club for the purpose of revolution and that 149

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they at a dinner party in the house of Pulytion performed the Mysteries. The city was aroused because of the magnitude of the charges, and an Ekklēsia was quickly assembled. But my father showed so clearly that his accusers were lying that the people gladly would have taken punishment from them. And in fact, the people elected him general for the Sicilian Expedition [415 BCE]. “After this Alcibiades sailed out, thinking that he was now free from the slander, but his opponents brought together the Boulē, got the orators under their control, and again were stirring up the business and were introducing informers. And why do I need to make a long story of it? They did not stop until they recalled my father from the army and killed some of his friends and expelled others from the city [415 BCE]. When my father heard of the power of his enemies and the misfortunes of his friends, thinking he was suffering terrible things by not being judged when he was there and by being condemned in absentia, even so he did not think it right to go over to the enemy. He was so concerned to commit no wrong against the city that he went to Argos and kept quiet. His opponents, however, became so hybristic that they persuaded you to banish him from of all Greece, to inscribe his name on a stele, and to send ambassadors to the Argives and demand him back. Alcibiades was at a loss as to how to handle his troubles, was hemmed in on all sides, and saw no other safety. So, finally, he was forced to take refuge with the Lacedaemonians” (16.­5–­9). “In the civil wars Alcibiades was twice banished by your enemies. The first time [415 BCE], as soon as they got him out of the way, they undid the democracy [411 BCE]. The second time, as soon as they had enslaved you they condemned him first of the citizens to exile [404 BCE]. So very much did the city get from the evils of my father, and so he shared in the misfortunes of the city. And yet many of the citizens were hostile to him on the grounds that he was planning to be a tyrant. They do not examine the situation from the facts, but they believe that tyranny is desired by all and that he especially could have accomplished it. And you might justly be grateful to him that he alone of the citizens was considered worthy of this accusation but thought it was necessary for also others to have an equal share of the government” (16.37). “Recall to yourselves how many good things Alcibiades did for the city when he came back. And how the situation was when you received him back. The democracy was undone; the citizens were in civil war; the soldiers were at odds with the established officials here, and both groups had become so crazed that there was no hope of safety for either. The democratic faction was considering those holding the city more their 150

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enemies than the Lacedaemonians. The oligarchic faction was sending for the Lacedaemonian troops in Decelea, thinking it was better to hand over their fatherland to the enemy than to share the government with those fighting on behalf of the city. “So the citizens were thinking, but our enemies were in control of the land and sea. You had no money, but the king of Persia was giving money to the Lacedaemonians. In addition, ninety ships were coming from Phoenicia to Aspendus and were prepared to help the Lacedaemonians. When the city was in such misfortunes and dangers, the soldiers sent for Alcibiades. He did not act with disdain at your circumstances, did not find fault about what had happened, and did not plan about the future. He immediately chose to suffer anything with the city rather than to enjoy success with the Lacedaemonians, and he made it clear to all that he was warring not against you but against those who cast him out and that he wished to return, not to destroy the city. “When he joined with you [­411–­407  BCE], he persuaded the Persian satrap Tissaphernes not to give money to the Lacedaemonians, stopped the allies from revolting from you, paid the soldiers with his own money, returned the government to the people, reconciled the citizens, and turned back the Phoenician ships. It would be a great task to tell the story after this in detail, how many triremes he captured, how many battles he won, or how many cities he took by force, or how many he made our friends by persuasion. Although there were very many dangers for our city at that time, our enemies never set up a victory trophy over you when my father was leading. “I know that I leave out many things about his generalship, and I have not spoken in detail about them because almost all of you remember what was done. But now [397 BCE] they speak abusively and very impudently and boldly about even the rest of my father’s life, and they are not shamed to use such unrestrained language about him when he is dead as they would have feared to use about him when he was alive” (16.­16–­22). ­Fifty-­one years later, in To Philip (5) Isocrates returns to Alcibiades, with a quite different view. “He was in exile from us, and he saw that the others who before him had dealt with this misfortune cowered in fear because of the greatness of the city. He didn’t share their opinion. He thought he must try to return from exile by force and chose to make war on the city. . . . ​He put not only our city but also the Lacedaemonians and other Greeks into such chaos that we Athenians suffered what all know about, and the others fell into such evils that the misfortunes that came to be because of that war have not even yet [346 BCE] disappeared. And the 151

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Lacedaemonians, who seemed to be enjoying success, got into their current misfortunes because of Alcibiades because, persuaded by him to want power at sea, they lost even their leadership on land” (5.­58–­60).

The Thirty As one of the terms of the Athenian surrender at the end of the Peloponnesian War (404 BCE), the Spartans installed thirty Athenians with oligarchic and ­pro-­Spartan sympathies to govern the city and write new laws. They later became known as “The Thirty Tyrants” for, among other things, their murders and exiling of political opponents and expropriations of property. Some democrats who had fled began armed resistance by occupying the Athenian fort at Phylē and eventually taking over Piraeus. They defeated the forces of the Thirty in a battle there, and the Thirty took refuge at Eleusis. A settlement was reached in 403 BCE, with an amnesty for all but the Thirty themselves and their agents, and the democracy was restored. In 411 BCE it was “because of the wickedness of the demagogues that the Athenian people wanted the oligarchy established in the time of the Four Hundred” (8.108), but then after the Battle of Aegospotamoi, in 405 BCE, with two hundred triremes lost, “those called democrats were ready to suffer anything so as not to do what was ordered by the Lacedaemonians, and they believed it was terrible if someone would see the city that once ruled the Greeks now being subject to others. But those who wanted oligarchy were readily tearing down the city walls and enduring slavery. When the people were in authority, we were garrisoning the citadels of others, but when the Thirty seized the government, the enemy held our Acropolis. . . . ​ And who of my age does not remember that . . . ​the Thirty neglected the public civil buildings and stole from the sacred ones, and that they paid three talents to raze the shipsheds on which the city had spent not less than a thousand talents? . . . ​The Thirty executed fifteen hundred citizens without a trial, and they forced more than five thousand to flee to Piraeus” (7.­64–­67). The oligarchs were “crazy men possessed by an evil spirit” and thought it right “to rule their fellow citizens but to be slaves to the enemy” (7.69, 73). Nearly fifty years earlier, in the courtroom speeches Against Callimachus (18), of 402 BCE, and Against Lochites (20), of 394 BCE, just a few years after the events described, Isocrates gives a similar description of the Thirty: “We ourselves saw our democracy twice undone, and twice 152

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we lost our freedom, not because of those guilty of other wicked acts but because of those who scorn the laws and wish to be slaves to our enemies but to treat hybristically their fellow citizens. . . . ​These are the kind of people that handed over our power to the enemy, razed the walls of the fatherland, and killed fifteen hundred of our citizens without trial” (20.­ 10–­11; cf. 20.4). In Against Callimachus Isocrates has the plaintiff say that, under the Thirty, “I did not fine any citizen or put his life at risk. I did not expunge anyone from the citizen rolls and enter him on Lysander’s list of proscribed citizens. And yet the wickedness of the Thirty incited many to do such things. For they not only did not punish those doing wrong but even ordered some to commit crimes” (18.­16–­17). As soon as the Thirty got into power (404 BCE), they exiled Alcibiades, “the first of the citizens,” banishing him from all Greece. And soon after, the Lacedaemonians and Lysander had him killed (16.37, 40). Alcibiades’ son describes the plight of those Athenians exiled by the Thirty. “When you were exiled by the Thirty, you dealt with the same misfortunes as Alcibiades. You ought to consider how each of you felt and what thoughts you had and what danger you would not have endured so as to stop living abroad as a foreigner and to return to your fatherland and to punish those who exiled you. To what city or friend did you not go to ask that they return you home? From what action did you refrain in trying to return? Did you not seize Piraeus, destroy the grain in the countryside, tear up the land, set the suburbs ablaze, and, finally, attack the walls? And you so thought it very necessary to do these things that you were more angry at your fellow refugees who did nothing than at those responsible for the misfortunes” (16.­12–­14). Isocrates’ Against Euthynus (21), written for the prosecution of Euthynus by Nicias, in 403 BCE, details the sufferings of another Athenian under the Thirty. Nicias’s enemies had deleted his name from the list of citizens and entered him onto Lysander’s list of the proscribed. In fear Nicias mortgaged his house in Athens, removed his household servants, entrusted his furniture to a friend, and deposited eighteen thousand drachmas with Euthynus, his cousin, for safekeeping, but with no witnesses. He then moved to the countryside. Soon, though, he wished to leave Attica entirely and asked Euthynus for his money. Euthynus returned twelve thousand drachmas but denied that the other six thousand had been deposited with him. Nicias told his family and friends of this but could do no more. The authorities then were not punishing criminals but were seizing the 153

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assets of the rich. It “was more terrible in that time to be wealthy than to be unjust,” and it was only under the restored democracy that Nicias could bring Euthynus to court (21.­1–­4, 7, ­11–­15).

The End of the Peloponnesian War, 404 BCE At the end of the Peloponnesian War, the Lacedaemonians held the Athenian Acropolis and were the “masters” of the Athenians. “Instead of putting garrisons on others’ citadels, the Athenians saw their enemies in control of their own Acropolis. Instead of dragging off children from their fathers and mothers and taking them as hostages, many Athenian citizens were forced to educate and raise their children in the midst of the siege. And instead of farming others’ lands, they were unable even to see their own land for many years” (8.92). According to the Plataeans, as Isocrates represents them in Plataicus (14), after the Athenians lost the Peloponnesian War, “did not the Thebans alone of the allies vote that it was fitting for Athens to be enslaved and that its land be left a cow pasture like the Crisaean Plain [404 BCE]? If the Lacedaemonians had shared the opinion of the Thebans, nothing would have prevented that those who had been responsible for the safety for all Greeks would have been enslaved by the Greeks and in the greatest misfortunes” (14.­31–­32).

5. the restored democracy, ­4 03–­3 38 BCE Because of the madness of the Thirty all became more democratic than those who seized Phylē [404 BCE]. (8.108) “Those who were in exile returned and dared to fight a war for the sake of freedom. . . . ​W hen they had gained control and returned with weapons, they killed those most responsible for the evils but managed affairs in regard to the others so well and lawfully that the ones who banished them got no less than those who returned. And this is the finest and greatest proof of the fairness of the Dēmos: Those who had remained in the city had borrowed a hundred talents from the Lacedaemonians for the siege of those holding Piraeus. An ekklēsia was held about the repayment of the money, and many said that it was just for those who had borrowed the 154

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money to settle up with the Lacedaemonians, not those who were besieged. But the Dēmos voted to have all share the repayment. And because of this way of thinking they put us into harmony and advanced the city so much that the Lacedaemonians, who under the oligarchy almost every day were giving orders to us, under the democracy came to beseech and ask us not to overlook them being destroyed [after 371 BCE]. A summary statement of the thinking of each party, of the oligarchs and of the democrats, is that the oligarchs thought it right to rule their fellow citizens but to be slaves to the enemy, but the democrats thought it right to rule others but to have equality for their fellow citizens” (7.­65–­69). Alcibiades’ son in his lawsuit claims that “I, when still a child, was exiled from the city by the Thirty. When those from Piraeus returned and others were recovering their property, I, because of the power of my enemies, alone was robbed of the land that the Dēmos had given back to us in return for the property that had been confiscated” (16.46).

The Athenian Amnesty, ­403–­402 BCE As part of the restoration of democracy, the Athenians passed agreements of amnesty, “not to remember the bad things,” reinforced by oaths (403 BCE). In Against Callimachus (18), of 402 BCE, Isocrates provides important information about this amnesty in a speech he wrote for an individual appealing to it. “When you had returned from Piraeus, you saw that some citizens were beginning to make malicious prosecutions and attempting to undo the amnesty agreements. You wanted to stop them and show to others that you were not forced to make these agreements but believed they were beneficial to the city. You made a law, proposed by Archinus, that if anyone brought a case contrary to the oaths, the defendant could bring a countersuit. . . . ​Whichever of the two was defeated in the countersuit owed a fine; and you did this in order that those daring to remember the bad things might not only be convicted of violating their oaths and endure punishment from the gods but also might be immediately punished with a fine” (18.­2–­3). “When it was unclear if the settlement would be beneficial for the city, you made such oaths about it that even if it was not beneficial, you had to abide by what was agreed upon” (18.25). “Many are paying attention to this case . . . ​and believe the trial is about the amnesty agreements. If you make the just decision, you will make people live without fear in the city. But if not, how do you think those who stayed in the city will feel if you will appear equally angry at everybody who shared in citizenship then? . . . ​W hat chaos do you to expect there will 155

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be when some are motivated to make malicious prosecutions . . . ​but others are afraid of the present government because there is no safe refuge for them? Is it not right to fear that if the oaths are violated we will enter into the same situation because of which we were forced to make the amnesty? You do not need to learn from others what a good thing harmony is and what a bad thing civil war is. You have had so very much experience of both that you could best teach others about them” (18.­42–­44). “Did not the amnesty agreements explicitly acquit those who were informers or denouncers or did some other such thing? . . . ​If my opponent saw that the city regretted what had been done, it would not be right to wonder at him. But now you not only showed in the making of the laws that you consider the agreements important but you also decided to acquit and bring no judgment against Philon of Koilē, who was denounced for being a dishonest ambassador, offered no defense, but invoked the amnesty. The city thought it right to take no punishment even from those who confessed to crimes. . . . ​Thrasybulus and Anytus have very great power in the city now but were robbed of much money then. They know those who denounced them but still do not dare to obtain lawsuits against them and to remember the bad things. Even if they have more power than others about other things, they think it right for others to have equal rights in matters about the amnesty agreements” (18.­20–­23). “It is worth remembering that, although many good things have been done by our ancestors in war, our city got a good reputation not least of all from these reconciliation agreements. Many cities might be found to have competed well in war, but there is no city one could show that planned better than ours about civil war. . . . ​And of our moderation toward one another no one could give a better cause than our way of thinking” (18.­31–­32; cf. Epist. 8.3). “It is right now to preserve our good fortune and realize that amnesty agreements put other cities into more civil discord but made our city more harmonious” (18.68).

The Lacedaemonian Empire, ­403–­371 BCE Isocrates gives his fullest account of the rise and fall of the Lacedaemonians’ sea and land empire in On the Peace (8), sixteen years after the Battle of Leuctra (371 BCE), which brought an end to that empire. “It is easy to learn . . . ​that what is called imperial rule but really is misfortune makes by its nature all who use it worse. The greatest proof of this is that it corrupted not only us but also the city of the Lacedaemonians. And so those who customarily praise the virtues of the Lacedaemonians 156

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cannot say that we handled matters badly because our government was a democracy but if the Lacedaemonians had had this power they would have brought eudaimonia to both others and themselves. In fact, imperialism showed its nature much more quickly in the Lacedaemonians. It made their form of government, which everyone knows was not disturbed by dangers or disasters in seven hundred years, in a short time be tossed about and almost destroyed. In place of their established practices, it filled private citizens with injustice, laziness, lawlessness, love of money; and it filled the community of the city with suspicion of their allies, a desire for others’ property, and disregard of oaths and treaties. These Lacedaemonians surpassed our fathers in the wrongs they did to the Greeks in that, in addition to the wrongs already existing, they caused slaughters and civil wars in the cities, and as a result these people will have a­ lways-­remembered hatreds toward one another. “Although at other times the Lacedaemonians had been on guard against it more than others, they became so ­war-­loving and ­danger-­loving that they did not hold off even from their own allies and benefactors. The king of Persia had given them more than five thousand talents for the war against us, the Chians most eagerly of all their allies shared the risks with their navy [412 BCE], and the Thebans contributed a very great force to the infantry. But as soon as the Lacedaemonians got their rule, they immediately plotted against the Thebans [382 BCE], sent Clearchus and an army against the king [401 BCE], and exiled the leading citizens of Chios and pulled down all their triremes from the shipsheds and went off with them. “It was not enough for the Lacedaemonians to do these wrongs. About the same time, they were sacking the coast of Asia [­399–­394 BCE], were treating the islands with insolence, were trying to destroy the governments in Italy and Sicily and install tyrants there, were treating the Peloponnese badly and filling it with civil and other wars. Against what city did they not campaign? What Peloponnesians did they not wrong? Did they not take from the Eleians a portion of their territory [­402–­400 BCE], not ravage the land of the Corinthians [­391–­390  BCE], not displace the Mantineans [384 BCE], not besiege the Phliasians [(381 BCE], not invade the Argolid [391 BCE]? They did not stop maltreating others but were preparing for themselves the defeat at Leuctra [371 BCE]. “Some say the defeat at Leuctra was the cause of the evils for Sparta, but they are not telling the truth. It was not because of this defeat that they were hated by their allies, but because of their insolent behavior in earlier times they suffered this defeat and endangered their own land. 157

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One ought not to impart the causes to the evils as they are happening but to the first errors from which they came to this end. And therefore, one would speak more truthfully if he said that the beginning of their misfortunes occurred for the Lacedaemonians when they got the sea empire. They then had a power in no way similar to their previous one. Because of their leadership on land and good order and because of the steadfastness that is trained in that good order, they easily acquired also the power at sea. But because of the lack of restraint that is engendered by this sea power, they quickly lost even their leadership. They were not guarding the laws that they had inherited from their ancestors, nor did they remain in the habits that they had before. “Assuming that they had the license to do whatever they wished, the Lacedaemonians fell into much chaos. They did not realize that this license, which all pray to have, is very hard to deal with and makes those who love it crazy. It has the same character as the courtesans who make you love them but destroy you when you use them. It has been clearly shown to have this power, because someone could see that those who have the most license to do what they wish have fallen into the greatest misfortunes, beginning with us and the Lacedaemonians. These cities before were governed with the most sōphrosynē and had the finest reputations, but when they got this license and their empires, they differed not a bit from each other, but just as is fitting for those corrupted by the same desires and the same sickness, they attempted the same actions, made similar mistakes, and in the end fell into similar misfortunes. Hated by our allies and in danger of being enslaved, we were saved by the Lacedaemonians [404 BCE], and when all wished to destroy them, the Lacedaemonians took refuge with us and found safety through us [­370–­369 BCE]. How is it fitting to praise this imperial power, which has such wicked outcomes? Or how is it not fitting to hate and avoid the power that incited both cities to do many terrible things and forced them to suffer many terrible things?” (8.­94–­105). “After they were defeated in the battle at Leuctra, the Lacedaemonians met such a change that they were stripped of their empire among the Greeks and lost many of their men who chose to die rather than to live inferior to those whom before they ruled. And, in addition, they saw all the Peloponnesians who before were following them against others now invading with the Thebans their own land [­370–­369 BCE]. They were forced to fight not in the countryside to protect crops but in the middle of the city at their government buildings to defend their children 158

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and wives. If they did not succeed in this battle, they were going to die ­immediately; but if they did win, they no more escaped their troubles” (5.­47–­49).

The Expedition of the Six Thousand, 401 BCE Beginning with Panegyricus (4), Isocrates returns several times to the expedition, in ­401–­399 BCE, of the Six Thousand Greeks (“Ten Thousand” in Xenophon) employed by Cyrus the Younger against his brother, Artaxerxes II, the king of Persia, the expedition so vividly described by Xenophon in his Anabasis. In promoting a campaign against the Persians, Isocrates employs this expedition as evidence of the cowardice, softness, treachery, and inability of the Persians. “Such a return the Lacedaemonians made to the king of Persia that they persuaded his younger brother, Cyrus, to make a challenge for the kingship, collected an army for him, put Clearchus in command as general, and sent him against the king” (12.104). “We will find that Clearchus never before had been in command of any naval or infantry force but because of the misfortune that happened to him became famous on the mainland” (5.97; cf. 8.98). “It is not worthwhile to fear the courage of the Persians, for they were clearly shown by those who campaigned inland with Cyrus to be no better than those near the sea. I leave aside the other battles in which the Persians were defeated, and I posit that they then were in civil discord and did not wish eagerly to take risks against the brother of the king. But after Cyrus died [in the Battle of Cunaxa, in 401 BCE], all those inhabiting Asia came together, and then they fought so shamefully that they have left no argument for those who customarily praise the courage of the Persians. They caught six thousand Greeks who were selected not for their virtue but who because of their lowly status in their own cities were not able to find a livelihood. The Greeks did not know the land, were without allies, had been betrayed by those who campaigned with them, and had lost the general, Clearchus, whom they had followed. “But the Persians were so inferior to the Greeks that the king, at a loss and scorning his own military force, dared to arrest the leaders of the Greek mercenaries when they came under a truce. He thought that if he committed this illegality he would throw the Greek army into chaos. He 159

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chose to commit a wrong concerning the gods rather than to fight against the Greeks openly. But he failed in this plot, and the Greek soldiers stood fast and bore well the misfortune. The king sent Tissaphernes and his cavalrymen to follow the Greeks as they departed, and the Greeks, although they were plotted against along the whole journey, still made their way as if they were being escorted. The Greeks especially feared unoccupied land, and they thought it the greatest good thing if they encountered as many of the enemy as possible. In short, Greeks who had come not for booty and had not taken a village but had campaigned against the king himself returned more safely than those who went to the king as ambassadors seeking friendship. And so it seems to me that the softness of the Persians has been shown in all places. On the coast of Asia they were defeated in many battles, and when they crossed into Europe they paid the p ­ enalty—​ ­some of them perished badly, others were shamefully s­ aved—​­and in the end they have become laughed at in the royal palace itself ” (4.­145–­149; cf. 9.58). And, ­thirty-­four years later, to Philip: “It is agreed that those Greeks defeated in battle all armed forces of the king as much as if they had faced Persian women, but when they seemed to be in control of the situation, they suffered a misfortune because of the rashness of Cyrus. He rejoiced too much and pursued the enemy far in front of the others, and, in the midst of the enemy, died. Although such a misfortune had occurred for the Greeks, the king still so scorned his own armed forces that he invited Clearchus and the other Greek leaders to a conference. He promised he would give them great gifts and that he would give the Greek soldiers their full pay and send them off. After inducing them with such hopes and giving the greatest pledges of those customary there, he chose to commit a wrong concerning the gods rather than to enter into battle with soldiers who were so deserted. . . . ​And let no one assume that I want it to escape notice that I have said some of these things in the same way as before. When I had the same thoughts, I chose not to labor seeking to say well in another way what already has been published. If I were making an epideictic display, I would try to avoid all such things, but in giving advice to you I would be a fool if I spent more time on the style than on the issues. . . . “The Greeks with Cyrus were as ill tempered as possible because of the decarchies of the Lacedaemonians. They thought that if Cyrus and Clearchus succeeded, they would still more be enslaved, but if the king won they would escape from their present evils. And this happened” (5.­90–­95; cf. Epist. 2.8). 160

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The Battle of Cnidus, Conon, and Evagoras, King of Cyprian Salamis, 394 BCE By 394  BCE the Persians were alarmed by Sparta’s aggressive actions in Asia and in that year fought and won a sea battle against the Spartan fleet near Cnidus, on the coast of Asia Minor just north of Rhodes. The Persian navy was augmented by a Greek (probably largely Cyprian) naval force commanded by the Athenian Conon, who had taken refuge with Evagoras, the king of Cyprian Salamis, after the defeat of the Athenians by the Spartans at Aegospotamoi, in 405 BCE. In Evagoras (9), of ­370–­365 BCE, Isocrates praises the actions of the king of Salamis on Cyprus and of Conon, the very successful Athenian general. “Conon was the leading man of the Greeks because of his very many virtues. Who does not know that, when the city had suffered its misfortune [at Aegospotamoi, in 405 BCE], Conon selected Evagoras out of all men to go to? He thought that refuge with him was most secure for his person and that Evagoras might very quickly be a helper to Athens. Conon had had many successes already before, and he seemed to have planned better about nothing ever than about this, because through his coming to Cyprus he did and experienced very many good things. “First of all, as soon as Conon and Evagoras met, they valued each other more highly than their previous closest intimates. Second, they always were in agreement about other matters, and they had the same opinion about our city. They saw that Athens was subject to the Lacedaemonians, had dealt with the great change painfully, and was ­bearing it heavily. Both were doing what was appropriate, because Athens was Conon’s fatherland by birth and because the Athenians had made Evagoras a citizen because of his many great benefactions. As they were ­considering how they might rescue Athens from its misfortunes, the Lacedaemonians quickly provided the opportunity. The Lacedaemonians in their rule over the Greeks on land and on sea became so insatiable that they attempted to treat badly even Asia. “Conon and Evagoras took this opportunity, and when Evagoras’s generals were at a loss how to manage the situation, they taught them to make the war against the Lacedaemonians not on land but on sea. They thought that if they established an infantry and won with it, only the things around the mainland would be good, but if they won at sea, all Greece would share in the victory. And this happened. When the generals 161

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were persuaded and a naval force had been gathered, the Lacedaemonians were defeated in a sea battle [at Cnidus, in 394 BCE] and were stripped of their rule; the Greeks were freed, and our city regained some part of its old good reputation and became leader of the allies. These things were done when Conon was general and Evagoras provided most of the military force. For these things we Athenians honored them with the highest honors and erected statues of them near the statue of Zeus Sotēr and next to one another, a memorial of both the magnitude of their good service and also of their friendship with each other” (9.­52–­57). “After the sea battle around Cnidus occurred, Evagoras got authority over all Asia, and the Lacedaemonians, instead of pillaging the mainland, were forced to face dangers about their own land. The Greeks got autonomy in place of slavery, and the Athenians advanced so much that those who previously ruled them came now to give their empire to them” (9.­67–­68). Over twenty years later, in To Philip, Isocrates tells the same story as an exemplum for the Macedonian king, but with a focus on Conon. “After he suffered a misfortune in the sea battle around the Hellespont that occurred not because of himself but because of his fellow commanders [405 BCE], Conon was ashamed to return home and sailed to Cyprus and spent some time tending to his private affairs. But when he heard that Agesilaus had crossed into Asia with a large force and was sacking the land [396 BCE], he got such a big idea that, although he had no other resources than his own person and his way of thinking, he hoped that he would defeat in war the Lacedaemonians who were ruling the Greeks on both land and sea. He sent a message to the generals of the king of Persia and promised he would do this. And why do I need to say more? When he got a naval force around Rhodes and won a sea battle [394 BCE], he threw the Lacedaemonians out from their rule, freed the Greeks, and not only restored the walls of his fatherland but also brought the city back to the same good reputation that it had lost” (5.­62–­64).

Life for a Siphnian, Late 390s BCE In a speech written by Isocrates for a party in a dispute over a will on ­Aegina (Aegineticus, of ­391–­390 BCE), we are given a glimpse into the lives of individuals caught up in the international turmoil in the late 390s BCE. The speaker, a man of a prominent, politically engaged, and o­ nce-­rich family of Siphnos, is claiming the estate of Thrasylochus, a fellow citizen of Siphnos, a friend he has helped in many ways and the man who 162

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had adopted him as a son. The story begins on the island Siphnos, to where Thrasyllus, Thrasylochus’s father, had returned after a very ­profitable career as an itinerant soothsayer. After having left various illegitimate children in various places, on Siphnos Thrasyllus married the speaker’s sister. She died childless, as did Thrasyllus’s second wife. Thrasyllus then married a woman from Seriphos, and with her had three children: Thrasylochus, Sopolis, and a daughter, who at the time of the speech is the speaker’s wife. Then, perhaps in 394 BCE, Thrasylochus and the speaker and their families were exiled from Siphnos, probably after a democratic, ­pro-­Athenian revolution. The speaker helped rescue from Siphnos Thrasylochus, his sister, his mother, and his money. Some Siphnian exiles went to nearby Paros, and Thrasylochus and the speaker deposited their money with xenoi there, thinking this island safe. But an o­ therwise-­unknown Pasinus captured the island, and some Siphnian exiles joined in the capture of Paros and killed the speaker’s father, uncle, brother‑in‑law, and three of his cousins. Amid all this, the speaker successfully made a hazardous trip to recover from Paros both his and Thrasylochus’s money. Also, in these years Thrasylochus’s brother, Sopolis, led an expedition against Siphnos, for which the speaker served as secretary and treasurer. The attack failed, Sopolis was wounded, was rescued by the speaker, and then sailed off to Lycia, where he died. Thrasylochus and the speaker then went to Melos, probably with their remaining family, and then to Troizen, an “unhealthy place,” where there were also other Siphnians. There everyone got sick. The speaker’s mother and ­fourteen-­year-­old sister died. From there Thrasylochus, the speaker, and Thrasylochus’s sister and mother, now also sick, moved to Aegina. There Thrasylochus died, childless, like his brother, Sopolis, and there the court case was held deciding his will that was the occasion of Aegineticus.

The Aftermath of the Battle of Cnidus and the King’s Peace, ­386–­380 BCE The King’s Peace (also known as the Peace of Antalcidas, after Sparta’s negotiator) was imposed on the Spartans, Athenians, and other Greek states by the Persian king Artaxerxes II in 386 BCE. It gave control of the Asia Minor Greeks and of Cyprus to Artaxerxes, but also promised autonomy (that is, freedom from Athenian, Spartan, and Theban control) to other Greek cities. The King’s Peace also marked the end of the Corinthian War, a war 163

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waged since 395 BCE against Sparta by a coalition of Thebes and Athens, soon joined by Corinth and Argos. All feared Spartan aggression and expansion in their areas of influence, and the king of Persia, who wanted the Spartans out of Asia Minor, supported the coalition financially and with his navy. In 395 BCE the Thebans defeated a Spartan incursion into Boeotian land. Later that year a major expedition of the allied forces was defeated by the Spartans near Corinth. In 394 BCE the Spartans lost much of their navy in the Battle of Cnidus but won a major infantry battle in Boeotian territory. The Persians followed up their victory at Cnidus by attacking Spartan territory in the Peloponnese and even occupied Cythera (393 BCE), the island just to the south of the Peloponnese. In the course of the next six years there were numerous battles on land and sea and intrigues between and within cities, in the course of which Athens was able, with Persian help, to rebuild her walls and fleet, Sparta largely rebuilt her fleet, and both Sparta and Thebes attempted to reassert their dominance over their neighbors. “When the Lacedaemonians were defeated in a sea battle [394 BCE] by the power of the king of Persia and the generalship of Conon, they made a peace [the King’s Peace, of 386 BCE], and no one could show a treaty that ever was more shameful, more open to censure, more neglectful of the Greeks, and more opposite to what is said by some about the virtue of the Lacedaemonians. After the king had made them masters of the Greeks, they attempted [in 401 BCE] to take away his kingship and all his eudaimonia. But when he humbled them by his victory in the sea battle [394 BCE], the Lacedaemonians handed over to him not a small part of the Greeks but all those inhabiting Asia. They wrote expressly in the treaty that the king was to handle those Greeks as he wished, and the Lacedaemonians were not ashamed to make such agreements about men whom they had used as allies when they overcame us and became masters of the Greeks and hoped to take all Asia. They themselves recorded such agreements on inscriptions in their own sanctuaries and forced their allies to do the same” (12.­105–­107). In 355 BCE, in urging the Athenians to make peace, Isocrates gives a much more favorable view of the terms of the King’s Peace, or perhaps better, speaks with approval of those terms he liked. “We ought to make peace . . . ​and use . . . ​the agreements we had with the king of Persia and the Lacedaemonians, agreements that ordered the Greeks to be autonomous, for the garrisons to leave others’ cities, and for each to have their own 164

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land. We will not find agreements more just than these or more beneficial for our city” (8.16). In 380 BCE Isocrates describes for the Greek world the current situation in Asia Minor as a result of the King’s Peace: “It is not appropriate to choose over our rule the present peace or the autonomy written in the treaty but not existing in the governments. Who would desire such an arrangement, in which pirates hold the sea, ­light-­armed troops seize the cities, and instead of making wars against others to win land, citizens fight against one another within their own walls? And more cities have become prisoners of war than before we made the peace, and because of the frequency of changes those living in the cities are more dispirited than those who have been punished with exile. The residents fear the future, but the exiles always expect to return. The cities are so far from freedom and autonomy that some are under tyrants, some have Lacedaemonian governors, some have been destroyed, and some have barbarian masters. . . . ​As soon as we Athenians were stripped of our rule, the evils began for the Greeks. After the misfortune in the Hellespont [405 BCE] and others became the leaders, the barbarians won a sea battle [394 BCE], ruled the sea, got most of the islands, landed in Laconia, took Cythera by force, and sailed around causing trouble for all the Peloponnese [393 BCE]. . . . “Now the king of Persia is managing the affairs of the Greeks and ordering what they must do and all but putting governors in the cities. For what except this is left? Did he not control the war and negotiate the peace [386 BCE] and become the overseer of the present situation? Don’t we sail to him to make charges against one another as if he were our master? Do we not call him ‘the Great King,’ as if we were prisoners of war? Do we not in our wars against one another have our hopes of safety in him, a man who would gladly destroy us both? “It is appropriate as we think about these things to be angry at the present situation, to long for our leadership, and to fault the Lacedaemonians. The Lacedaemonians began the war to free the Greeks, but in the end they gave up so many of the Greeks to the barbarians and separated the Ionians from our city, the city from which they were colonized and because of which they were many times saved. They gave up to the barbarians those who have their land against the will of the barbarians and who never stopped making war on them. The Lacedaemonians were angry then when we thought it right to rule some lawfully, but now they have no concern for the Greeks when they have entered into such slavery. 165

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For these Greeks it is not enough to pay tribute and to see their citadels held by the enemy, but in addition to the shared misfortunes they also suffer with their bodies more terrible things than our slaves. No one of us maltreats his slaves in the way the barbarians punish free men. The greatest of evils is when the Greeks are forced to campaign with the king for the sake of their own slavery and to make war on those who deserve to be free, and to endure such dangers in which, if they are defeated, they will immediately perish, but if they succeed they will be even more enslaved in the future. “Who else than the Lacedaemonians must one think responsible for these things, the Lacedaemonians who although they have such strength overlook those who were their allies suffering such terrible things but allow the barbarian to establish his own rule by the strength of the Greeks? In earlier times the Lacedaemonians used to expel tyrants and brought help to the common people, but now they have changed so much that they make war against constitutional governments and set up monarchies. When there was peace, they destroyed the city of the Mantineans [385 BCE] and seized the Cadmea of the Thebans [382 BCE], and now [380  BCE] they are besieging the Olynthians and Phliasians. They are working with Amyntas the king of the Macedonians, Dionysius the tyrant of Sicily, and with the barbarian who rules Asia so that each will have the greatest empire possible. How is it not strange that the leaders of the Greeks are making one man the ruler over so many people, people whom it is not easy even to count, and are not allowing the greatest cities to control their own affairs but are forcing them to be slaves or to fall into the greatest misfortunes?” (4.­115–­127).

The Plight of the Plataeans and the Evil Thebans, 373 BCE In 431 BCE, as one of the incidents precipitating the Peloponnesian War, the Thebans attacked Plataea, the small city in the unfortunate geographic position between the superpowers Athens and Thebes. The Athenians successfully aided in the defense of the Plataeans. In 429 BCE the Spartans and their allies began a siege of Plataea, and in 427 BCE the Plataeans were forced to abandon their city. Many fled to Athens, were given citizenship there, and married Athenian women. Some were given land on ­Athenian-­held Scionē (4.109, 12.94). In 386 BCE, under the terms of the King’s Peace, the Spartans restored the Plataeans. In 382 BCE the Spartans gained control of Thebes and Boeotia. In 379 BCE the Thebans, with Athenian assistance, expelled the Spartans and liberated their city (5.43), and by 166

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374 BCE the Thebans and Athenians had driven all Spartan garrisons out of Boeotian towns. By the peace treaty of 386 and its renewal in 375 BCE among the major Greek cities, all Greek cities were to be autonomous and free, and confederations such as the Boeotian headed by Thebes were to be broken up. In 373 BCE the Thebans, in violation of these treaties, attacked and destroyed Plataea. This is the setting for Isocrates’ Plataicus (14), an oration composed for the Plataeans to be delivered, purportedly, to the Athenians, an oration in which the Plataeans plead for sanctuary and support from the Athenians against the Thebans. I focus on three elements of this discourse: the Plataean (and probably Isocratean and Athenian) view of Thebes at this time; the plight of refugees so common in this period; and the Plataean appeals to the virtues of the Athenians. “Who does not know that the Thebans have occupied our land and razed our city? . . . ​Sometimes they attempt to say that they have behaved in this way toward us because we were not willing to join their confederation. But consider first of all if it is just to make such unusual and terrible punishments for charges like that, then if it seems fitting to you for the city of the Plataeans to join the Thebans not by persuasion but by force. . . . ​And, in addition, the Thebans clearly are not doing consistent things to others and to us. When they were not able to persuade our city, they ought just to have forced us to join their confederation as they did the Thespians [in 373 BCE] and the Tanagrans. For then we would not have suffered incurable evils. But they obviously did not wish to accomplish that but desired our land. . . . “How would your Athenian ancestors feel . . . ​if they should hear that when you were in charge the Thebans who had thought it right to be slaves to the barbarians are becoming masters of others, but we Plataeans, who alone of the Greeks fought with you [at Marathon, in 490 BCE] for freedom, have been uprooted from our country . . . ​and that the Thebans who drew up in battle against us now control that land? Consider that you made it the greatest charge against the Lacedaemonians that in showing favor to the Thebans, the traitors of Greece, they destroyed us, the benefactors. Do not allow these blasphemies to be made about your city, 167

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and do not choose Theban insolence over your current good reputation” (14.­7–­9, 14.­61–­62). “What invasion into your land did the Thebans miss? Were any people more hostile and ill intentioned toward you? In the Decelean War [­413–­ 404 BCE] were they not the cause of more evils than the others who invaded? Did not the Thebans alone of the allies vote that it was fitting for Athens to be enslaved and that its land be left a cow pasture like the Crisaean Plain [404 BCE]? If the Lacedaemonians had shared the opinion of the Thebans, nothing would have prevented those who had been responsible for the safety for all Greeks from being enslaved by the Greeks and in the greatest misfortunes. And what such great good service could the Thebans have to tell of that will be enough to dispel the hatred you justly have against them from these actions?” (14.­31–­32). “When the Corinthian War began [395  BCE] because of Theban ­insolence and when the Lacedaemonians campaigned against them, although the Thebans were saved because of you [395 BCE], they not only did not feel gratitude to you for these things but, after you settled the war [386 BCE], they left you and entered into the alliance of the Lacedaemonians. The Chians and Mytileneans and Byzantians remained with you, but the Thebans, although they inhabited such a large city, did not have the courage to be partners but were so cowardly and wicked that they swore an oath that they would follow the Lacedaemonians against you, who had saved their city. For this they paid the penalty to the gods, and after the Cadmea was seized by the Lacedaemonians, they were forced to take refuge here in Athens [382 BCE]. And after this they most showed their faithlessness. For when they had been saved again by your power and returned to their own land [379 BCE], they did not wait a minute but immediately sent ambassadors to Lacedaemon. They were ready to be slaves and to undo none of their previous agreements with the Lacedaemonians. Why is it necessary to make a long story of it? Were the Lacedaemonians not ordering them to take back those they exiled and to keep out the murderers [379 BCE], nothing would be preventing the Thebans from campaigning with those who have done them wrong against you, who were their benefactors” (14.­27–­29). In recent times the Thebans had been violating the international treaties and oaths guaranteeing autonomy and freedom to all Greek cities. “Keep in mind that you Athenians took up the most recent war not for your own freedom or for the freedom of your ­allies—​­which already existed for 168

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you ­all—​­but for those who were being robbed of their autonomy contrary to the oaths and the peace agreements. And what is most terrible of all is if you will allow the cities that you thought must not be slaves to the Lacedaemonians now to be destroyed by the Thebans. . . . ​Then these Thebans in all their embassies were talking about freedom and autonomy [379/378 BCE], but now, when they think they have nothing to fear, they neglect all the other things and dare to talk about their private profits and their power, and they say that for them to have our land is profitable for the allies” (14.17, 14.­24–­25). “If the Thebans claim that the treaties are in ­force—​­which is the just thing to ­say—​­how will they not agree that they are acting unjustly and transgressing the treaties that order both the small and large cities equally to be autonomous? . . . ​I do not think it is fitting for you Athenians to take more account of the city of the Thebans than of the oaths and treaties when you realize that it is your ancestral tradition to fear not the dangers of war but shame and a loss of reputation and that it is not those who conquer cities by force who win in war but those who administer Greece more gently and in a more religiously correct way. . . . ​If another war occurs, what will you say to claim the right to win over the Greeks if now you, promising autonomy to them, will grant to the Thebans to sack whatever city they wish?” (14.10, 14.39, 14.43). “Those who were taken by you by force immediately were freed from Lacedaemonian governors and slavery and now share in freedom and the council of allies. But of those who dwell near the Thebans, some are no less slaves than those bought for money; for others the Thebans will not stop until they put them in the same situation we are in. The Thebans charge the Lacedaemonians with seizing the Cadmea and putting garrisons into the cities, but they do not just send in guards. They think they are doing nothing terrible when they raze the walls of some and destroy others completely. They have become so shameless that they demand that all the allies be concerned with their safety but claim authority over the slavery of others. Who would not hate the greed of those who seek to rule the weaker but think they must have equality with their superiors? . . . “Are things good for the Thebans in regard to their fellow citizens? Some they killed; some they banished from their city and seized their property. Or in regard to their fellow Boeotians? They not only are attempting to rule them unjustly but also have razed the walls of some and have taken the land of others. . . . ​They showed you how one must deal with people like them from what they did concerning Oropos [in 402 BCE]. When they expected that they would be able to do whatever they wished, they did not deal with you as allies but dared to do to you the 169

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wrongs that they do against their greatest enemies. But when you voted to exclude them from the peace for these actions, they stopped their arrogance and came to you more humble than we are now. And so if some of the orators try to frighten you that there is a danger that the Thebans will change sides and join your enemies, you ought not to believe them. Such necessities now [373 BCE] hold the Thebans that they would more quickly endure your rule than alliance with the Lacedaemonians. . . . “But, if you have decided not to concern yourselves with our persons, it is not in your interest to let our land be sacked. In that land are left the greatest monuments of your virtue and that of those who fought as your allies. Other trophy monuments have been for one city against another, but those stand for all Greece against all the power from Asia. The Thebans are getting rid of them, reasonably, because the memorials of what happened then [479 BCE] are a source of shame for them. You ought to save them, because from those deeds you became leaders of the Greeks. It is appropriate also to remember the gods and heroes who hold that place and not to allow their honors to be done away with. After you sacrificed to them with good omens, you undertook a battle that was so great that it freed both these Thebans here and all the other Greeks [479 BCE]. You ought also to give some thought to your ancestors and not disregard the religious respect they had for those gods and heroes” (14.­18–­19, 14.­35–­38, 14.­58–­60). The Plataeans now (in 373 BCE) are refugees, like so many of the Greeks at this time, and Isocrates, always concerned for such refugees, offers the most poignant description of refugees in Greek prose. In the words of the Plataeans themselves: “Whom could you find more unfortunate than us? On one day we lost our city and land and property. Now in need of all the necessities of life we are wanderers and beggars, at a loss where to turn. We are unhappy with all dwelling places. If we find hosts who are themselves suffering misfortune, we grieve, forced to share others’ misfortunes in addition to our own. If we come to prosperous hosts, we are in greater difficulty. We do not begrudge them their prosperity but see more clearly our misfortunes in the goods of those nearby. There is no day we do not spend weeping over our misfortunes, but all the time we keep grieving for our fatherland and lamenting our changed fortune. What do you think is in our minds when we see our parents not cared for in the way they deserve and our children not being educated in the way we had hoped? Many now are slaves because of small debts, others work for hire, and 170

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some provide for daily necessities in whatever way each can, all of this not befitting the deeds of their ancestors and their ages and our pride. But what is most grievous of all is when one sees not only citizens being separated from one another but also wives from their husbands and daughters from their mothers, and the whole family broken ­up—​­which has happened to many of our citizens because of poverty. The lost communal life has made each of us have only private hopes. And I think you are not unaware of the other shameful things that occur because of poverty and exile. We bear these with more difficulty than the others, but we pass over them in our speech because we are ashamed to describe too precisely our misfortunes. . . . ​To have no refuge, to be without a city, to suffer each day, and to look upon one’s family when one is not able to help: why need I say how much it surpasses other misfortunes?” (14.­46–­50, 14.55). Plataicus offers, at the least, Isocrates’ ideas of the Plataeans’ views of Athens and its responsibilities at this moment in Athenian history. “We expect you to have some care for us. We are not foreigners to you, but we all are family by our goodwill toward you, and the majority of us by kinship. Because of the right of marriage given to us [427 BCE], we have been born from your citizen women, and so it is not possible for you to disregard those things that we have come to ask. It would be most terrible of all if in previous times you gave us a share of your fatherland but now you should decide not even to give back our land to us. And it is not reasonable to pity an individual who has suffered misfortune unjustly but for a city that has been so lawlessly destroyed not to be able to find pity from you even in a small degree, especially a city that has taken refuge with you. And not ever before did it turn out shamefully or ingloriously for you when you pitied suppliants. When the Argives came to your ancestors and asked them to recover those who had died beneath the Cadmea, they were persuaded and forced the Thebans to plan what was more in the Greek traditions. At that time your ancestors not only themselves got a good reputation but also left behind an ­always-­remembered good reputation for all time for your city. You ought not to betray that, for it is shameful to seek honor in the deeds of your ancestors but to appear to be doing things opposite to them concerning suppliants” (14.­51–­53). “Because we know that you, Athenian men, customarily help eagerly those who are suffering injustice and that you give the greatest return to your benefactors, we have come to you to beseech you not to allow us to be uprooted by the Thebans in a time of peace. Many in the past have taken refuge with you and have 171

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accomplished all they asked for, and we think it is fitting for you especially to be concerned with our city. You could find no people who more unjustly have fallen into such misfortunes than we have, nor who have for more time been more like family to your city. And, in addition, we are here to ask for things in which there is no danger for you but in which all men will think that you, if you are persuaded, are the most just and religiously correct of the Greeks” (14.­1–­2).

Dionysius I, Athens, and Sparta, 368 BCE Dionysius I was a gifted and charismatic general who, by 405  BCE, had established monarchial power (hence “Dionysius the Tyrant”) over his home city, Syracuse. In the following years he made constant attempts, often successful, to expand his power over much of Sicily, in the course of which he fought many wars against other Sicilian Greeks and especially against the Carthaginians. Dionysius generally supported Sparta’s efforts against Thebes and Athens. He had Athenian ties, though. In 394/393 BCE he was praised by the Athenian Boulē; in 369/368 he was awarded a crown and citizenship by the Athenians, and in 368 BCE he entered into a defensive alliance with them. He died in 367 BCE and was succeeded by his son, Dionysius II. In 368 BCE Isocrates, in an only partly preserved letter to Dionysius, urges him to turn his attention to Greece and, presumably, to lead the Greeks on Isocrates’ ­long-­cherished expedition against the Persians: “Since I am prepared to give advice about the safety of the Greeks, to whom might I more justly speak than to the leading man of our race and the one who has the greatest power? I mention these things not at an untimely moment, because when the Lacedaemonians were holding their empire it was not easy for you to be concerned with our region or to act against them and to fight the war with the Carthaginians at the same time. But now, when the Lacedaemonians are faring so badly that they would be happy if they held just their own land and when our city gladly would ally with you if you did something good on behalf of Greece, how might a better opportunity than the present one fall into your lap?” (Epist. 1.­7–­8). ­Twenty-­two years later, in To Philip (5), Isocrates speaks approvingly of Dionysius’s rise from humble origins to power: “Dionysius was among the most insignificant of the Syracusans in family, reputation, and all other things, and he illogically and crazily desired monarchy. He dared to do all 172

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the things that lead to this power, and he took Syracuse, conquered all the Greek cities in Sicily, and acquired an infantry and naval power the size of which no man before him had” (5.65).

The Situation of the Lacedaemonians and Peloponnesians, 366 BCE After their defeat at the hands of the Thebans at Leuctra, in 371 BCE, the Spartans suffered Theban invasions of Lacedaemon and the revolt of their Peloponnesian allies. Epaminondas, leader of the Thebans, had among other things founded, with the Spartan helots and the Messenians, a new city, Messenē (369 BCE). In 366  BCE there was held at Sparta a conference concerning peace, at which it was demanded that the Lacedaemonians accept the new Messenē as independent. In this year Isocrates composed a discourse, the Archidamus (6), which he pretends was a speech given by Archidamus III, the son of one of the kings of Sparta, at this conference in opposition to the terms of this peace. Most interesting for us is the description Archidamus (really Isocrates, of course) gives of the current situation in Lacedaemon and in the Peloponnese among Sparta’s former allies. “Realize that until today we Lacedaemonians seem to have suffered misfortunes in the battle against the Thebans and to have been defeated with our bodies because of the one who did not rightly lead us. But our souls still even now are undefeated. If in fear of the coming dangers we will give up anything of ours, we will confirm the boastings of the Thebans and will erect, over ourselves, a much more conspicuous and imposing trophy monument than the one at Leuctra. The one at Leuctra was over our misfortune, but this one will be over our way of thinking. Let no one persuade us to cloak our city in such shame. . . . ​O ur former allies have become so greedy and have so judged us cowards that, although many times they expected that we fight a war for their land, now they do not think we must undertake danger on behalf of Messenē. . . . ​O ur enemies are not even able to bear their successes but are in chaos. Some seize allied cities; some oppose this; some dispute with their neighbors about territory, and others more feel ill will at one another than make war against us. . . . “I think that the rest of the people in the Peloponnese, people who 173

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we think are especially making war on us, now long for our oversight. Nothing of what they expected has happened to them after they revolted from us. Instead of freedom they have the opposite. After killing their best citizens, they are under the control of the worst. Instead of autonomy they have fallen into much terrible lawlessness. In previous times they regularly campaigned with us against others, but now they see those others campaigning against them. The civil wars that they previously saw in other peoples they now see almost every day in their own states. . . . ​No city is unharmed. No city has neighbors who will not treat it badly, and so their lands are ravaged; their cities are pillaged; private households have been destroyed; governments have been overthrown, and those laws by which they had the most eudaimonia of the Greeks have been done away with. “So untrusting and hostile are our former allies among themselves that they fear their own citizens more than the enemy. Instead of the harmony and prosperity from one another that they had under us, they have become so antisocial that those who possess property would more gladly throw it into the sea than help those in need. . . . ​They have quit their sacrifices and now slaughter one another on the altars. More now flee from one city than before fled from the whole Peloponnese. And, although I have enumerated so many evils, many more have been left out. For there is nothing terrible or difficult that has not come together here. Some already are full of these things, and others will soon be. They will seek to find some escape from the present troubles. Do not think they will abide them. When those who are faring well are exhausted, how might they endure long when they suffer bad things? And so not only if we fight and win but also if we keep quiet and wait you will see them changing their minds and thinking that our alliance is their safety. Such expectations I have” (6.­9–­10, 6.13, 6.61, 6.­64–­69). “If it is necessary to talk about help from abroad, I think there will be many willing to defend us. I know that first of all the Athenians, even if they are not with us in all matters, will do anything for our safety. Then there are some other cities that will find that plans for our benefit are the same as plans for theirs. And, in addition, Dionysius the tyrant and the king of the Egyptians and other rulers in Asia will eagerly help us to the extent each can. Also the Greeks who excel in wealth and have the leading reputations and desire what is best, even if they do not yet stand with us, are with us in their goodwill, and in them we might reasonably have great hopes for the future. . . . “I think nothing more terrible will happen than what we have now. . . . ​ 174

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But if we are deceived in our hopes and blocked on all sides and are no longer able to protect the city, ­then—​­what I am going to say is difficult, but still I will not hesitate to speak frankly. . . . ​I think we must send out from the city our parents, children, wives, and the other crowd, some to Sicily, some to Crete, some to Asia Minor. All the people there will gladly receive them with much land and other provisions for a livelihood. Some will do this repaying what good things they have experienced from us; others expecting that they will get more than they give. “Those of us left behind who are willing and able to fight must leave the city and all our possessions except what we are able to carry away with us. We must take a place that is most secure and useful for war, and we must pillage and devastate the enemy on land and by sea until they stop making claims on what is ours. If we dare these things and don’t hold back, you will see those now giving us orders begging and asking us to take back Messenē and make peace. Which city in the Peloponnese would endure the kind of war that is likely to occur if you wish it? Who would not be terrified at and fear an army being formed that has accomplished such great things, is justly angry at those responsible for this mess, and is desperate in regard to its life, an army that by having leisure and spending time in nothing else than war is like the mercenary armies but is such in its virtues and practices as no one could assemble from all peoples, and in addition is using no ordered government but is able to live outdoors and wander throughout the land and easily move next to whomever it wishes, an army that considers all places useful for war to be its fatherlands? “I think that, if these plans are merely reported and spread among the Greeks, it will put our enemies into great chaos, and even more so if we are forced to implement them. What will they think when they themselves suffer badly but can do nothing to us? And when they see their own cities besieged but ours so prepared that it can no longer fall into this misfortune? . . . ​And what will be most painful for them, when they hear that our families are enjoying great prosperity but they see that their own families each day are in need of the necessities, and they are not able to bring help? . . . “It is a simple thing to plan well about these things. If we are willing to die on behalf of what is just, not only will we earn a good reputation, but it will be possible for us to live in safety in the future. But if we fear the dangers, we will put ourselves into great chaos. Let us encourage one another and repay to our fatherland our upbringing. Let us not tolerate Lacedaemon being scorned and treated with insolence. . . . ​Let us not appear to value living more than having a good reputation among all peoples, 175

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realizing that it is better to exchange a mortal body for an immortal reputation and to buy with a life, which we will not have in a few years, the kind of good fame that will remain for all time with our descendants. It is much better to do that than to cling to a little time and cloak ourselves in great shame” (6.­62–­63, 6.­72–­79, 6.­107–­109).

To Archidamus, King of the Lacedaemonians, 356 BCE By 366 BCE Sparta had lost Messenia and control of its Peloponnesian allies, including Argos and Corinth. In 362 BCE Thebes and its allies, among them the Messenians and Argives, fought a major battle against Sparta and its allies, including Athens, at Mantinea, in the Peloponnese. The Battle of Mantinea was nearly a draw, but the Theban commander, Epaminondas, was killed in the battle, and his troops made a peace with their opponents, a peace supported by all participants except the Spartans. Just before this battle the Spartan commander and king Agesilaus, who had once, in ­396–­394 BCE, led Spartan and mercenary forces in Asia Minor and the Aegean against the Persians, was recalled to Sparta from Boeotia to help in its defense. Isocrates in a letter to Archidamus, now a king at Sparta, compliments the king on his leadership in a desperate battle at Sparta itself (362 BCE) against the Thebans just before the Battle of Mantinea. “How many words would be necessary to treat your administration in the misfortunes and the battle in the city, the battle in which you were the leader? You fought with a few against many. You stood out among all and were responsible for the safety of your city, and no one could show a finer deed. For it is not such a great and respectable thing to capture cities and kill many of the enemy as it is to save your fatherland from such great dangers, a fatherland that is no ordinary one but is so outstanding in virtue” (Epist. 9.­4–­5). In the same letter (Epist. 9) to Archidamus, Isocrates, now eighty years old, describes the current plight of the Greeks, especially those in Asia Minor, as he saw it in 356  BCE: “I am surprised at the others who are ­capable of acting or speaking, that it never came into their minds to think about shared problems and to pity the misfortunes of Greece, which is in such a shameful and terrible situation. No place of it is left that is not full of war, civil discord, slaughters, and countless ills. Those who dwell on the 176

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coast of Asia Minor have the greatest share of these things. In the peace treaties [386 and 375 BCE] we gave all of them over not only to the barbarians but also to those Greeks who share our language but follow the ways of the barbarians. If we were sensible, we would be paying attention to those Greeks gathering together and being commanded by chance people and to the ranks of the armies becoming stronger and larger from vagrants than from those who are citizens in a city. They damage only a small part of the territory of the king of Persia but they destroy whatever Greek cities they enter, killing some, exiling some, and seizing the property of others. In addition, they treat hybristically the children and women. They shame the most beautiful women and from the others they pull off their clothes, so that women whom in previous times strangers never saw even when they were all dressed up are now seen naked by many. Some of them in rags perish because of a lack of necessities. “These things have been happening now for a long time, but no one of the cities that claim to champion the Greeks has been angry about them, nor has any one of the leading men been troubled, except for your father. Agesilaus alone of those whom we know always desired to free the Greeks and make war against the barbarians [­396–­394 BCE]. But even he made one mistake. . . . ​In all other things he excelled and was most powerful, just, and ­civic-­minded. He had two desires, each one seeming good by itself but not in harmony with each other and not able to be done at the same time. He wanted to make war on the king of Persia and to restore his own exiled friends to their cities and put them in charge. As a result of his activity on behalf of his friends, the Greeks were in trouble and dangers, and because of the chaos here in Greece he did not have leisure and was not able to make war on the barbarians. And it is easy, from what was unknown at that time, to learn that those who plan correctly must not make war on the king until someone reconciles the Greeks and stops us Athenians and Lacedaemonians from our madness and competition” (Epist. 9.­8–­14; cf. 5.­86–­88, of ten years later).

The Domestic and International Situation of Athens about 355 BCE Would it suffice for us if we would dwell in our city in safety, would be better provided with the necessities of life, would be in harmony with one another, and would have a good reputation among the Greeks? I believe that if we had these things the city would have complete eudaimonia. (8.19) 177

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In 377  BCE the Athenians began to put together a defensive alliance of Greek states, the Second Athenian Confederacy, to protect against Spartan violations of the provisions of freedom and autonomy for individual Greek states promised in the King’s Peace, of 386  BCE. Initially it included six member states but was soon expanded to many Greek cities of central and northern Greece and the Aegean. By 376  BCE it had at least ­twenty-­five members and eventually as many as ­seventy-­five. The confederacy included an assembly of allies. Athens was to be the leader (hēgemōn), but much of the objectionable behavior of the Athenians under their empire was explicitly prohibited, including forced change of governments, installation of garrisons and governors, collection of tribute, and Athenian ownership of property in allied states. But by 373  BCE financial contributions were assigned to member cities, and Athenian actions were appearing more imperialistic. In 357  BCE Byzantium, Chios, Cos, and Rhodes, in response to increasing Athenian autocracy and demands on them, led a revolt from the confederacy, and there followed the Social War of Athens against its former allies. After a threat from the king of Persia, who still controlled the Greek cities in Asia Minor, to support the rebels, Athens negotiated a peace with the members of the confederacy, in 355  BCE. The confederacy then limped along until it was disbanded after Philip’s victory over Athens and Thebes at Chaeronea and his reorganization of the mainland Greek states into the League of Corinth, in 338 BCE. We are fortunate to have from Isocrates three discourses from just before, during, and after the Social War (­357–­355 BCE), when Isocrates was about eighty years old: Areopagiticus (7), of 357  BCE; On the Peace (8), written when the Athenians were deciding whether to make the peace treaty to end the war but published soon after they concluded the peace; and Antidosis (15), written in ­354–­353 BCE. Each has a different focus and expresses some different and some persistent concerns, but together they offer a remarkably full and coherent picture of what Isocrates thought was the domestic and international situation of Athens in this one critical period in Athenian history. I treat these three discourses sequentially, emphasizing the persistent concerns.

areopagiticus (7), 357 BCE

“I think many of you wonder what I was thinking when I petitioned to address you about our safety, as if the city were in danger or its affairs were 178

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precarious. Does the city not possess more than two hundred triremes? Does it not have peace on land and rule on the sea? Do we not still have many allies who readily will help us if there is need, and many more who are paying us financial contributions and are doing what we assign them? Since this so, someone might say that it is reasonable for us to be confident, since dangers are far off, but that our enemies ought to be afraid and plan about their own safety. I know that using this logic you scorn my approach to you and expect that you will get control of all Greece with this power. But because of these same things I am afraid. I see that those cities that think they are faring very well plan very badly and that those most confident fall into the most dangers. . . . “Anyone who has seen such great changes that have occurred and such great powers so quickly destroyed but puts his trust in the present circumstances is too foolish, especially now when our city is faring much worse than at that time [­454–­404  BCE]. The hatred of the Greeks and the hostility in regard to the king of Persia are reviving, these things that then defeated us. I am at a loss whether I am to assume that you have no concern with our public affairs or that you think of them but have become so unperceptive that you do not realize into what chaos the city has come. You act like that, you who have lost all the cities in Thrace, have spent more than a thousand talents on mercenaries, are criticized by the Greeks, and have become enemies to the king. And, in addition, you have been forced to protect the friends of the Thebans but have destroyed our own allies” (7.­1–­3, 7.­8–­10; cf. 7.54). “We have no concern that our democracy has been corrupted, nor do we examine how we will set it aright. We sit in the workshops and criticize the current situation and say that never in the democracy have we been worse governed, but in our actions and thoughts we love it more than the one that was left to us by our ancestors. It is about this that I am going to speak and that I wrote this appeal. I find that the only way to turn aside the looming dangers and to escape the present evils is if we are willing to take up again the democracy that the most democratic Solon created by laws [594 BCE] and that Cleisthenes restored, who threw out the tyrants and led back the people [508 BCE]. We could not find a form of democracy more p ­ eople-­friendly or more beneficial to the city. And there is very great evidence of this: The Athenians then who used that democracy accomplished many good things, had a good reputation among all men, and received the leadership from Greeks who wanted them to have it. But those who desire our current democracy are hated by all, have suffered many terrible things, and almost fell into the worst misfortunes. 179

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How ought one to praise or have affection for the form of government that before was the cause of such great evils and now every year gets worse? How ought one not to fear that if such a development continues we in the end will run aground on things more harsh than happened then? . . . ​Those administering the city then established a form of government that was not just in name called most communal and most gentle and then did not in its actions appear such to those who encountered it. Nor did it educate its citizens in such a way that they believed that lack of restraints was democracy, illegality freedom, outspokenness equal rights, and the license to do these things eudaimonia. Rather, the government by hating and punishing such people made all the citizens better and with more sōphrosynē. . . . “Our ancestors not only were aware of evildoers but even perceived ahead of time those likely to commit some wrong. And so the young men were not spending time in gambling houses or with flute girls or in the kinds of gatherings they now spend their days in. They remained in the practices assigned to them and admired and emulated those who were best in them. They so avoided the Agora that if they had to pass through it, they did so with a strong sense of shame and sōphrosynē. The young men thought contradicting or speaking abusively to their elders was more ­terrible than it is now to commit a wrong against parents. No young man, not even a good slave, would have dared to eat or drink in a tavern. They practiced being modest, not telling jokes, and they thought unfortunate those who were witty and able to ridicule, those whom they now call clever. “Let no one think that I am ill disposed toward those of this age group. I do not think the young men are responsible for what is happening. I know that most of them find no pleasure in this situation, in which they can spend their time in these unrestrained activities. And so I would reasonably fault not them but much more justly those who administered our city a little before us. They are the ones who turned us to this neglect and undid the power of the Areopagus Council. When it was in charge, the city was not full of lawsuits, legal charges, financial levies, poverty, and wars. The citizens were tranquil with one another and had peace with all the other Greeks. The Athenians then were making themselves trustworthy to the Greeks and frightening to the barbarians. . . . “I believe that we ought to be angry and troubled if we are worse than our ancestors. We should try to match their virtue, not the wickedness of the Thirty, especially since it is fitting for us to be the best of all men. It is not the first time I have said this, but I have said it to many and many times. I know that in other regions unique and very different types of 180

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crops and trees and animals are produced, but our land produces and is able to nourish men not only most naturally gifted in crafts, actions, and words but also far excelling in bravery and virtue. This can be rightly proved by the ancient fights that they made against the Amazons and Thracians and all the Peloponnesians, and also by the dangers of the Persian Wars [490 and ­480–­479 BCE], in which our ancestors both alone and with the Peloponnesians, fighting on land and at sea, defeated the barbarians and were deemed worthy of the prize of excellence. They would have done none of these things if they had not far excelled in their innate nature. Let no one of you think that this eulogy is appropriate for us, the ones now engaging in political affairs. Far the opposite. Such words are praise of those who have shown themselves worthy of the virtue of their ancestors, but they are criticisms of those who have brought shame on their good birth by their laziness and wickedness, and that is what we are doing. The truth will be told. Although we have this innate nature, we did not guard it but have fallen into lawlessness and chaos and a passion for wicked activities. . . . “Some Greeks now hate our city and some scorn us. You have heard about the hatred of the Greeks from the generals themselves, and the king of Persia revealed how he is disposed toward us in the letters he sent. And, in addition, the citizens then were so educated in virtue by their good order that they did not cause grief for one another but defeated in battle all those who invaded our land. But we are the opposite. We never stop causing evils for one another, and we have so neglected military matters that we do not even dare to go out for military reviews unless we are paid. And what is the greatest thing: then no citizen lacked the necessities and no citizen by begging from passersby brought shame on the city. But now more are in need than those who have. It is right to have great sympathy for the needy if they show no concern for public matters but only look to a way to get through the day. I believe that if we imitate our ancestors we will escape from these evils and will save not only our city but also all Greeks” (7.­15–­20, 7.­47–­51, 7.­73–­76, 7.­81–­84; cf. 7.54).

on the peace (8), 355 BCE

This discourse was probably written during the negotiations of the peace that settled the Social War (355 BCE) but published shortly after the peace. “I think we will better govern our city and will be better ourselves and will advance in all our activities if we stop craving a sea empire. This sea 181

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empire has now put us into chaos and destroyed that democracy with which our ancestors lived and were having the most eudaimonia of the Greeks. It is the cause of almost all the evils that we ourselves have and that we are causing others. . . . ​I think I will now make it clear to all that we crave an empire that is not just, not possible, and not beneficial to us. I can teach you from your own words that it is not just. When the Lacedaemonians held this power [­404–­371 BCE], what words did we not waste to criticize their empire and describe that it is just for the Greeks to be autonomous? Which of the highly regarded cities did we not invite into the alliance that had formed about these matters [395 BCE]? How many embassies did we send to the Great King to teach him that it is neither just nor beneficial for one city to be in authority over the Greeks? We did not stop making war and running dangers on land and sea until the Lacedaemonians were willing to make the peace treaty about autonomy [386  BCE]. And we recognized in those times and now in the form of government we have that it is not just for the stronger to rule the weaker. And I think I will quickly make clear that we could not even develop this sea empire. If we were not able to maintain such an empire with ten thousand talents, how could we now acquire one when we lack resources and especially when we have not those habits by which we got the empire but those by which we lost it?” (8.­64–­70; cf. 8.74). “Would it suffice for us if we would dwell in our city in safety, would be better provided with the necessities of life, would be in harmony with one another, and would have a good reputation among the Greeks? I believe that if we had these things the city would have complete eudaimonia. The war has deprived us of all these things. It has made us poorer, has forced us to endure many dangers, has put us at odds with the Greeks, and has made us miserable in all ways. If we make peace and make ourselves the kind of people that the common peace treaties order, we will dwell in our city in much safety, freed from the wars and dangers and chaos into which we have now come in regard to each other. And each day we will prosper more, stopping the assessments, the trierarchies, and the other financial services concerning the war, farming our lands and sailing the sea without fear, and undertaking the other work that now has been abandoned because of the war. We will see the city getting twice the current revenues and full of merchants, xenoi, and foreign residents, of whom there is a dearth now. And the greatest thing: we will have as our allies all peoples, not forced but persuaded, not people who in times of safety accept us because of our power but will revolt in times of danger, people who feel toward us as those who are truly allies and friends ought to. 182

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“And in addition, we will easily get through diplomacy those things that we cannot recover through war and great expense. Don’t think that Cersobleptes will make a war for the Chersonese or Philip for Amphipolis when they see that we don’t desire any of other peoples’ territory. Now they reasonably fear making our city a neighbor to their empires because they see that we are not content with what we have but are always reaching out for more. If we change our ways and get a better reputation, they will not only withdraw from our territory but will even give up some of their own. . . . ​And it will be possible for us to cut off enough territory of Thrace so that we ourselves will have abundant land and will be able to provide a sufficient livelihood to those Greeks who are in need and are vagrants because of poverty. . . . ​Those who claim to be first among the Greeks must become leaders of such efforts much more than of war and the mercenary armies that we now all desire. . . . ​I believe we must not only leave this meeting of the Ekklēsia after voting in favor of the peace but must also plan how we will handle the peace and not do what we have customarily ­done—​­that is, after a little time to go back again into the same chaos. We must plan how we will find not a deferment of but an escape from the present ills” (8.­19–­25; cf. 8.6, 12). “We seek to rule all but are not willing to go on a military campaign. We take up wars with almost all peoples, but for these wars we do not train ourselves. We use men some of whom have no cities, some are deserters, and some have come together after other criminal acts. Whenever someone gives them higher wages, they will follow him against us. But still we love these troops so much that, although we would not forgo punishing our children if they wronged people, we not only do not get angry about the mercenaries’ pillaging, violence, and ­illegality—​­and the charges are going to redound on ­us—​­but we even rejoice when we hear that they have done some such thing. We have become so foolish that we ourselves lack everyday things, but we have attempted to support mercenaries, and we harm our own allies and collect financial contributions so that we can pay these common enemies of all people. “We are so much worse than our ancestors, not only those who had a good reputation but those who were hated, that they, if they voted to have a war against some people when the Acropolis was full of silver and gold, still thought they must risk their own lives for what they had decided. But we have come into such a helpless state, though being so many in number, that we use hired armies like the Great King does. If our ancestors manned triremes, they embarked foreigners and slaves as the sailors and sent out the citizens with infantry weapons. Now we use the foreigners 183

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as infantry and force our citizens to row. And so, whenever they disembark into enemy territory, those who claim the right to rule the Greeks disembark holding rowers’ seat cushions, but those whose nature I just described fight with infantry weapons. “If someone should see the affairs in the city being well administered, he might be confident about the other things. But would he not be especially angry at what is being done now? We, who say we are autochthonous and that our city was founded before others, and when it is fitting that we be an example to all people of good and orderly government, administer our own city worse and more chaotically than those who just now are founding cities. . . . ​We are smug and pride ourselves on having been born better than others, but we more easily give a share of this good birth to those who want it than do the Triballi and Leucani of their lowly birth. We make very many laws, but we think so little of them that, as one example, we have established the death penalty if someone is convicted of bribery, but we elect as generals those who do this most openly and we put in charge of the most important affairs the person who is able to corrupt most of the citizens. “Although we are no less serious about our form of government than about the safety of the whole city, and although we know that democracy grows and endures in peace and safety and that it was twice undone in wars [411 and 404 BCE], still we are hostile to those who desire peace as if they want an oligarchy, but we think that those who are making the war are well intentioned and concerned for the democracy. Although we are most experienced in words and actions, we are so illogical that we do not decide the same things about the same matters on the same day. The proposals that we criticize before we go to the Ekklēsia we vote in favor of when we have come together there, but a short time later, when we are leaving the Ekklēsia, we again criticize what we have voted for. We pretend to be the wisest of the Greeks, but we use as advisers men whom everyone would scorn, and we put in charge of all public matters men whom no one would entrust with his private matters. And what is most awful of all: we believe that those whom we would agree are the most wicked citizens are the most trustworthy guardians of our government. . . . “We so differ from our ancestors that they made leaders of the city and elected as generals the same men, thinking that the one who on the speakers’ platform was able to give the best advice would also plan best when he was on his own. But we do the opposite. We do not think it right to elect as generals those whom we use as advisers about the most important matters, because we think they do not have good sense, but we send out as 184

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generals plenipotentiary those whom no one would consult about private or public matters, as if there they will be wiser and will plan more easily about Greek affairs than about proposals here. . . . “Perhaps someone who is very much subject to what I have charged might become angry and ask, ‘If we plan so badly, how is it that we are safe and have more power than any other city?’ I would answer that it is because we have rivals who think no better than we do. If after the battle in which they defeated the Lacedaemonians [371 BCE] the Thebans had freed the Peloponnese, made the others autonomous, and then kept quiet, and if we were committing the same errors as we were, then that fellow could not have asked that question, and we would know how much better sōphrosynē is than meddling in others’ affairs. But now the situation has so reversed that the Thebans save us by their mistakes, and we save the Thebans by ours, and they create allies for us, and we for them. . . . ​Those who can reason even a little must not have their hopes of safety in the errors of the enemy but in their own actions and ways of thinking. The good that has happened to us because of Theban ignorance might change and come to an end, but the good that comes because of us ourselves would be more secure and lasting for us” (8.­44–­60; cf. 8.17, 42, Epist. 2.19). “You ought not to pay attention to those who try to win your favor in the present but have no concern for the future, not to those who say they love the Dēmos but then do damage to the whole city. Just like before, when men like this took power on the speakers’ platform, they led the city into such folly that it suffered. . . . ​One might especially wonder that you prefer as leaders of the Dēmos not those who think like those who made the city great but ones who say and do things similar to those who destroyed it. And you do this knowing not only that good men are superior to wicked men in bringing eudaimonia to the city but also that the democracy in the time of the good leaders was not disturbed or changed over many years but in the time of men like these it was twice undone in a short period [411 and 404 BCE]. Those who were exiled by the tyrants and by the Thirty returned not because of the sycophants but because of those who had the best reputation for virtue and hated such men. . . . “We take such pleasure in the wickedness of the orators that we are not angry when we see the war and chaos that they have created, that many citizens have lost their inherited property but the orators, once poor men, have become rich. . . . ​We put up with the city being criticized for harming and collecting financial contributions from the Greeks but with these 185

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orators reaping the profits; with the Dēmos, which they say ought to rule others, faring worse than those who are slaves to oligarchies; and with the people having nothing good but with the orators having more eudaimonia because of our folly. . . . ​These orators dare to say that because of their tendance of public affairs they cannot give attention to their private fortunes, but these neglected fortunes have increased more than they would ever have expected to ask the gods for. The majority of us, whom they say they are concerned for, are now in the situation that no citizen lives pleasantly or easily. The city is full of laments. Some are forced to describe their poverty and deprivations and lament to one another. Others complain of the number of ordinances and services and evils concerning financial levies and antidoseis. These cause such pains that those who have property live with more grief than those who have always been poor. “I am surprised if you cannot see that no group is more hostile to the common people than the wicked orators and demagogues. In addition to the other evils, they wish to deprive you of the everyday essentials, because they see that those who can administer their own affairs from their own funds are on the side of the city and of those who propose the best things, but those who live from the law courts and meetings of the Ekklēsia and such incomes are forced by their lack of resources to be dependent on them. These people are grateful for the indictments, impeachments, and other sycophancies that arise through the orators. The orators would most gladly see all the citizens in these difficulties, in which they have power. And there is very good proof of this: the orators examine not how they will provide a livelihood to those who need it but how they will make those who seem to have some property equal to those who have no resources. “What escape might there be from the present evils? . . . ​There are things by which we might correct the affairs of the city and make them better. First, if we make as our advisers about public affairs the kind of people we would want as advisers about our private affairs and if we stop thinking that sycophants are democratic but the good and noble men are oligarchic. . . . ​Second, if we are willing to treat our allies as we do our friends and not leave them autonomous in theory but then allow our generals to do whatever they wish to them. . . . ​And, third, if you consider nothing more important, second only to the proper respect of the gods, than having a good reputation among the Greeks” (8.­121–­135; cf. 8.5, ­9–­10, 13).

antidosis (15), ­3 54–­3 53 BCE

Just before 355 BCE Isocrates had evidently been charged in a case of antidosis, whereby one individual ordered to perform an expensive public 186

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­liturgy—​­for example, paying the annual costs of a trireme (a trierarchy)—​ ­could challenge another citizen either to assume the liturgy or to exchange all property with the plaintiff. Isocrates lost in court and had to pay the considerable expenses of the trierarchy. In Antidosis, after this trial, Isocrates presents a fictional defense of himself in such a case, positing that the major charge against him is that he is corrupting the young. Much of the discourse treats his own career and theories of education (for which see chapters 2 and 4), but he also gives in some detail his views of the current domestic and international situation of Athens. “You Athenians excel and differ from others not by your training in war nor because you have the best government and especially protect the laws that your ancestors left to you, but in those things in which humans’ nature excels other animals and in which the Greek race excels the barbarians: that is, by having been better educated than others in respect to thinking and language. And so it would be the most terrible outcome if you should vote that those who wish to excel their peers in those very things in which you all excel are being corrupted, and if you should entangle in some misfortune those who are employing this education, of which you have been leaders. This fact ought not to escape you, that our city seems to have become the teacher of all those who are able to give orations or to educate, and with good reason. People see that it offers the greatest prizes for those who have this ability and provides the most gymnasia of all types to those who choose to compete and are willing to train in such things. And all get from here the experience that especially creates the ability to give orations. And in addition they think that the wide use and moderateness of our dialect and our wit and love of language contribute not a small portion to education in rhetoric. And so they not unjustly assume that all those clever in speaking are students of our city. “Consider, then, if it is not completely laughable to make some mean charge against this reputation that you have among all Greeks even more than I have among you. For you will have voted such an injustice against yourselves, and you will have done the same thing as if the Lacedaemonians tried to punish those who train in war or the Thracians decided to punish those who practice horsemanship. . . . ​I think you are not unaware that some Greeks are ill disposed toward you but others love you very much and have their hopes of safety in you. Those Greeks say that ours alone is a city but the other cities are just villages, and that justly our city might be called the core town of Greece because of its greatness and because of the good 187

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resources that are here for others, and especially because of the character of its inhabitants. They say that no other people are more gentle, more communal, and more the kind of people with whom someone could spend his whole life on more intimate terms. They use such great hyberboles that they do not hesitate to say even that they would more happily be punished by an Athenian man than be treated well by the savagery of others. But some denigrate these things and describe the bitterness and evil doings of sycophants and charge the whole city with being antisocial and harsh. It is the duty of jurors who have good sense to kill those responsible for such talk on the grounds that they are creating great shame for the city. It is their duty to honor those who contribute something to the praise of the city. They ought to honor them much more than the athletes who win victories in the Panhellenic games, because they acquire a much better and more appropriate reputation for the city than do the athletes. We have many who can challenge us in physical contests, but all would judge that we hold first place in education. Those who can reason even a little ought to honor those who excel in those activities in which the city has a good reputation, and they ought not to feel ill will toward them nor to make decisions about them counter to those of the other Greeks. “You have never been concerned with any of these things, but you so have missed what is beneficial that you are happier with those because of whom you have a bad reputation than with those because of whom you are praised. You think that those responsible for our city being hated by many are more democratic than all those who have made those they have dealt with be well disposed toward our city. If you have sōphrosynē, you will stop from this chaos and not be, as now, either harsh or neglectful toward philosophy. You will assume that care of the soul is the finest and most serious practice, and you will direct to education and such training those young men who possess a sufficient livelihood and have the leisure for it. You will value most those who are willing to work and to make themselves useful to the city, but you will hate and consider betrayers of their city and of the reputation of our ancestors those who live a despicable life and think of nothing other than how they will enjoy licentiously what they have inherited. If the young see that you are disposed in this way to each group, they will, but not easily, be willing to scorn laziness and direct their attention to themselves and to philosophy” (15.­293–­305). “Foreigners sail here, pay money, and do everything, thinking that they will become better and that those who teach here are much wiser than those back home. All our citizens ought to feel honor at this and value 188

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most highly those who have been responsible for this good reputation for our city” (15.226). “I thought that I would show that philosophy was slandered unjustly and would much more justly be loved than hated. And I have still now the same opinion, but it is not surprising if some of philosophy’s good practices have escaped attention and not been recognized, and if some have been deceived about it. So we could be found deceived about ourselves and countless other things. Our city is now and has been the cause of many good things for both our fellow citizens and other Greeks, and it is full of many pleasures, but it has a difficulty. Because of its large size and the number of inhabitants, it cannot be seen as a whole or in precise detail, but like a winter torrent, it carries along each person and thing it happens to take up, and it gives to some of them a reputation opposite to what is appropriate. And this happened to the education I have described. . . . “Now many things in the city have been so overturned and confused that some do not even still use words in their natural meaning but transfer them from the best activities to the worst. They call those who tell jokes and are able to ridicule and mock ‘the gifted,’ when only those who are naturally best in virtue ought to be called this. They think those are getting the advantage who practice evil habits and evil deeds and get small profits but acquire a bad reputation. They do not so describe those who are most religiously correct and most just, those who actually do get more of the good, not the bad things. They say that those who neglect the necessary things but love the miracle stories of the sophists of long ago are practicing philosophy, but they pay no attention to those who are learning and practicing those things from which they will manage well their own families and the public affairs of the city. It is for these purposes one must labor, practice philosophy, and do all things. For a long time now you have accepted the arguments of those slandering such an education, and you have driven the young people away from these good practices. You have made the best of them spend their youth in drink, parties, and laziness while you neglect to be serious about how they will become better. The young men with an inferior character you have made spend their days in unrestrained acts that before not even a good household servant would have dared. Some of them cool their wine in the Enneacrounos spring; others drink in the taverns; others play dice in the gambling houses; and many spend their time in the schools of the flute girls. No one of those who claim to be concerned with this age group has ever brought those who lead the young to these activities to a jury, but they cause trouble for 189

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us. And if for no other reason, you ought to be grateful to us because we turn our students away from such practices. The group of sycophants is so hostile to all of us that they not only do not criticize those young men who pay a ransom of twenty thousand or thirty thousand drachmas for women who will destroy also the rest of their family estate but even rejoice in their licentious behavior. They say that those who spend any money for their own education are being corrupted” (15.­170–­172, 15.­283–­288). “You ought not too hastily trust the words of the accusers and listen to the defendants with a ruckus and harshness. It is shameful that you in other matters are agreed to be the most compassionate and gentle of all the Greeks but in the lawsuits here appear doing things contrary to this reputation. When other peoples are judging a capital case, they set aside a portion of the votes for the defendants, but with you the defendants do not get even a level playing field with the sycophants. You swear each year that you will equally listen to the accusers and the defendants, but your practice is so far different that you accept whatever the accusers say but sometimes will not even put up with hearing the voices of those trying to refute the accusers. You think uninhabitable those cities in which some citizens are executed without a trial but are unaware that those who do not give equal goodwill to the defendants and accusers are doing this same thing. . . . ​Those who are sensible ought to be the kind of jurors for others that they would expect themselves to have, reasoning that because of the boldness of the sycophants it is unclear who will be put into danger and be forced to say what I am now saying to those who are going to be making the vote. It is not worth believing that by living in an orderly way it will be possible to dwell in our city without fear. Those who have chosen to neglect their private affairs but plot against others’ property do not hold off from those who with sōphrosynē participate in political matters, and they do not bring into court to you those who are actually doing some evil. Rather, after they have displayed their powers in the cases of those who are committing no wrongs, they take more money as bribes from those who obviously have committed wrongs. . . . “Some people have been made so savage by envy and poverty and are so ill tempered that they fight not against wicked behavior but against success, and they hate not only the most moral men but also the best practices. In addition to other evils, they ally with those acting unjustly and have sympathy with them and if they can they destroy whomever they envy. They do this not unaware of the issues of the case but hoping that 190

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they will commit their injustices without being seen. By protecting men like themselves they think that they will help them. . . . “I am angry when I see sycophancy getting more than philosophy, with sycophancy making the accusations and philosophy being judged. Who of the men of long ago would have expected that this would happen, especially among you who are prouder of your wisdom than others are? It was not so in the time of our ancestors. They admired the so‑called sophists and those who associated with them, but they thought sycophants were the cause of very many evils. “And there is great proof of this: They deemed Solon, the first of our citizens to have the title ‘sophist,’ worthy to be the leader of the city, but they made harsher laws about the sycophants than about others. For the greatest crimes they made trials in just one of the courtrooms, but against the sycophants they created indictments to the thesmothetai, impeachments to the Boulē, and denunciations in the Ekklēsia because they thought that those who used this skill surpassed all the other wickednesses. Other people try to escape notice when they are committing crimes, but the sycophants openly display to all their savagery, misanthropy, and hatred. So our ancestors thought about them. But you are so far from punishing them that you use them as accusers and lawgivers about other matters. And yet they ought to be hated more now than at that time” (15.­20–­24, 15.­142–­143, 15.­312–­315; cf. 15.237). “The sycophants slander us teachers and cause us trouble. None would more happily see many of our citizens corrupted and becoming wicked than the sycophants. They know that they have power among such people but are killed by good and noble and sensible men when they are caught. And so they show sōphrosynē when they attempt to get rid of all the studies in which they think people will become better and more harsh to their own wicked and sycophantic behaviors. You ought to do the opposite and consider that those practices are best that you see these sycophants most warring against” (15.­241–­242). Isocrates had railed against sycophants since his earliest writings, Against Callimachus (18) and Against Euthynus (21), both from just before 400 BCE, both courtroom speeches for clients who thought they were being maliciously attacked by prosecutors who just wanted their money: that is, by sycophants. “All know that those who are clever at speaking but have no money especially attempt to practice their sycophancy on those who lack the ability to speak but can pay money. . . . ​Those who desire to do such things do not begin with their friends, but with the help of their friends they attack others, and they bring charges against those before 191

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whom they feel no fear or shame and those whom they see are wealthy but without friends and without an ability to act” (21.­5–­8). In Against Callimachus Isocrates describes the operations of one such sycophant, Callimachus, from the point of view of his victim. The individual had been charged by Callimachus with stealing ten thousand drachmas. His acquaintances advised that he settle the case out of court. “Many things,” they said, “turn out contrary to expectation in the law courts and more things are decided by chance than by justice, and so it is profitable for me to spend a little money and escape the great charges rather than to pay nothing and run such great risks.” He thought his case was strong, but in the end he was persuaded and offered the sycophant two hundred drachmas. The sycophant accepted, but to make the settlement formal and to forestall further prosecution, the sycophant and the individual submitted the settlement to formal arbitration by a fellow citizen. The arbitration was approved, the sycophant got his two hundred drachmas, and the individual thought (mistakenly) that he was free from further prosecution of the issue. But here he was in court again (18.­9–­14). I return to Antidosis to close this section with Isocrates’ praise of Timotheus the son of Conon, one of very few contemporary figures, perhaps the only one, to be a hero for Isocrates. He had been a student of both Plato and Isocrates, and in the 370s and 360s  BCE he had, as a general, waged numerous successful wars bringing new members into the Second Athenian Confederacy. But for his role in the unsuccessful naval battle at Embata against the Chians and Byzantians in the Social War in 356 BCE, he was tried at Athens for treason and was heavily fined. In his extensive praise and defense of Timotheus Isocrates reveals, among many other things, events of the time, what he thinks a good general should be, what Athenian foreign policy should be, and the current mood in Athens. “If Timotheus is shown to be a good citizen and a general like no other of those whom we know, I think you must praise him and be grateful to him. . . . ​Timotheus has taken by force more cities than any general either from this city or from the rest of Greece ever has. And for some of them the whole surrounding region was forced to become friendly to our city because each of these cities had such power. Who does not know that Corcyra is best and most opportunely situated of the cities around the Peloponnese, and Samos of those in Ionia, Sestos and Crithotē of those on the Hellespont, and Potidaea and Toronē of those in Thrace? Timotheus acquired and handed them all over to us, and not at great expense, 192

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and not harming our existing allies, and not forcing you to make many financial contributions. For his naval excursion around the Peloponnese the city gave him only thirteen talents and fifty triremes, and he captured Corcyra, a city that had eighty triremes [373 BCE]. About the same time, he defeated the Lacedaemonians in a sea battle [375 BCE] and forced them to make the peace that brought about such a great change for each of our cities. It was such a change that from that day on we sacrifice to Peace each year, because no other peace so benefited the city. After that time no Lacedaemonian fleet was seen sailing on this side of Malea or army traversing through the Isthmus of Corinth, and someone might find that this was the cause of their disaster at Leuctra [371 BCE]. “After these accomplishments he campaigned against Samos [366 BCE], a city that Pericles, who had the greatest reputation for wisdom, justice, and sōphrosynē, defeated with two hundred triremes and a thousand ­talents [440 BCE]. Timotheus got no money from us and collected none from the allies, but he took the city by siege in ten months with eight thousand ­light-­armed troops and thirty triremes, and he paid them all their wages from war booty. . . . ​After this he sailed back and took Sestos and Crithotē [365  BCE], and, although you before had neglected the Chersonese, he made you pay attention to it [364 BCE]. And if I must speak briefly, not in detail, he put you in authority over ­twenty-­four cities and spent less than our ancestors spent for the siege of the Melians [416 BCE]. . . . “I think you would gladly hear why some of those who seem reputable and military men were able to capture not even a village, but why Timotheus, who did not have a strong body and had not been worn down in those itinerant armies but engaged in political affairs with you, accomplished such great things. The story is one that will bring ill will but also some benefit. He surpassed others in that he did not think like you about the affairs of the Greeks and allies and how they should be dealt with. You elect as generals those who are physically strong and have been in mercenary armies many times, as if through these they will accomplish what needs to be done. Timotheus used such types as captains and division commanders, and some of them because of campaigning with him have become noteworthy and useful to the city. But Timotheus himself was skilled in those things in which a good general must be thoughtful. . . . ​First, he had the ability to know against whom one must make war and whom one must make his allies. This is the fundamental principle of generalship, and if one lacks it, the war must be unbeneficial, difficult, and useless. About this choice no one has not only been like Timotheus, but not even close. It is easy to know that from his actions themselves. He, 193

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without our city’s involvement, took up very many wars and succeeded in them all, and he seemed to all Greeks to have made them justly. Who might have clearer or better proof of good planning to offer? And what second thing befits the good general? It is to assemble an army appropriate to the current war, then to array it and use it beneficially. His deeds themselves have revealed that Timotheus knew how to use his army well, and not even any one of the enemy would dare say that he did not excel all in preparing the army in a grand way and a way worthy of the city. Who of those who campaigned with him would not judge that he excelled both in enduring privations and poverty of the army but again found good resources? They knew that at the beginnings of wars, because he was getting nothing from the city, he was coming into extreme need but was able after this to turn things around so as to win the war and pay full wages to the soldiers. . . . “Timotheus saw that you consider men only those who threaten and terrify both other cities and those among your allies who are always seeking revolution, but he did not follow your thinking or wish to gain a good reputation by harming our city. He sorted this out philosophically and acted so that no Greek city would fear him but all except those committing injustices would be confident. He knew that those who are afraid hate those because of whom they feel this and that our city had become very great and had the most eudaimonia because of the friendship of others but because of being hated it had almost fallen into the greatest misfortunes. Realizing this, he defeated our enemies by the military force of the city but won the goodwill of the others by his own good character. He thought this was a finer and better strategy than to seize many cities and defeat them in battle many times. He was so serious about no city getting even the least suspicion that he was plotting against it that whenever he was going to sail past one of those cities not paying financial contributions to us, he sent ahead and announced it to the rulers lest he would put them into a din and chaos when he was suddenly seen before their harbors. And if he anchored at some place, he did not allow his soldiers to pillage and rob and sack the houses. . . . ​He did not pay so much attention to earning a good reputation with his soldiers as to our city winning a good reputation with the Greeks. And in addition, he administered the cities he took in war so gently and lawfully as no one else administers their allied cities. . . . ​ Therefore, because of his good reputation that resulted from all this, many of the cities hostile to you welcomed him with open gates, and in them he created no disturbance, but when he went out he left them just as he found them when he went in. In summary, although many terrible things 194

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have commonly happened among the Greeks in other times, no one might find under his generalship the displacements of peoples, changes of established governments, slaughters, exilings, or any of the incurable evils. Such misfortunes so abated in that time that he alone of those we recall kept our city free of reproaches by the Greeks. . . . “I think the majority of you wonder at what I say and think my praise of him is an accusation of the city, if, after he had taken so many cities and destroyed not even one, our city convicted him of treason [356 BCE]. . . . ​The city fined Timotheus more than anyone ever of those before. But I wish to give the argument on behalf of the city. If you examine these matters looking to justice by itself, then certainly what was done about Timotheus will seem to all terrible and awful. But if you reckon with the ignorance that all us humans have and the envy and ill will that arise in us, and in addition the chaos and turmoil in which we are living, nothing that has happened will be found to be unreasonable or outside the bounds of human nature. Even Timotheus himself contributed a part to the decision he did not like. He was not a person hating the people or misanthropic or arrogant or having any of such bad things, but because of his great spirit, which benefited his generalship but was not suited for handling everyday things, he seemed to be subject to the criticisms I mentioned. He was as unsuited by nature to coddling people as he was skilled in the handling of actions. And many times he heard from me that those involved in political affairs and wishing to please must choose the most beneficial and best actions and the truest and most just words, but they must also watch and consider how they will appear to be speaking and doing all things most amiably and philanthropically. If they neglect this, they will seem to be quite insufferable and annoying to their fellow citizens. ‘You see,’ I told him, ‘the multitude of Athenians are inclined to pleasures, and they love more those who speak to please them than those who actually do good things for them, and more the ones who deceive them with flash and cordiality than those who actually help them with dignity and seriousness’ ” (15.­106–­133).

Philip, Athens, Greece, and Persia in 346 BCE I found that in no other way could our city have peace except if the greatest cities decided to settle their differences with one another, take the war to Asia, and be willing to get from the barbarians the gains that they now think it right to get from one another. That is what I advised in Paneygricus. (5.9) 195

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Philip II of Macedon (­382–­336  BCE) acceded to the throne in 359  BCE and acted quickly. By 358 he had consolidated all Macedonia under his kingship and had put down threats from neighboring Illyrians and Thracians. During Athens’s Social War (­357–­355  BCE) he annexed Amphipolis, an Athenian colony on the north coast of the Aegean, and this was to be a bone of contention between Athens and Philip for years to come. By 348 BCE he had acquired control of other Greek cities in the region, including Potidaea and Olynthus. In 346 BCE he intervened, at Thebes’s request, in the Third Sacred War (­356–­346 BCE) between Thebes and the Phocians, now supported by Athens. But after extended negotiations a peace treaty, the Peace of Philocrates (346 BCE), was struck between Philip and his allies and the Athenians and theirs. The terms were that Athens and Philip would each hold the territories they currently had, and this meant, among many other things, that Athens ceded Amphipolis to Philip. The result was the destruction of the Phocians, Philip’s membership in and leadership of the Delphic Amphictyony, and the establishment of Philip’s role as an arbiter in Greek affairs. The Peace of Philocrates was initially bitterly debated and continued to be debated in Athens between the p ­ ro-­Philip faction and the a­nti-­Philip faction, headed by Demosthenes. In his surviving writings Isocrates had mentioned Philip only once before 346 BCE. In On the Peace, of 355 BCE, he had asserted, probably naively, that “Philip will not make war for Amphipolis” if Athens follows the policy Isocrates recommends (8.22). Now, in 346 BCE, after no success with the Athenians and other Greeks, Isocrates attempts in To Philip (5) to persuade the Macedonian king to reconcile the Greek cities and lead an expedition against Persia. Isocrates describes for Philip his views of the current situation in Athens, in other Greek cities, and in Persia just after Athens made the Peace of Philocrates. “Has not Philip made the Thessalians, who before were trying to rule Macedonia, so friendly to him that each of them trusts him more than their fellow citizens? Has he not by his benefactions brought some of the cities in that region into his alliance and destroyed others that especially brought him grief ? Has he not defeated the Magnesians and Perrhaebians [353 BCE] and Paeonians [356 BCE] and taken them all as his subjects? Has he not established control of the multitude of the Illyrians except those 196

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along the Adriatic [358 BCE]? Did he not put in whomever he wished as rulers of Thrace [352 BCE]? . . . “I see that you, Philip, are slandered by those who envy you and who regularly throw their own cities into chaos and think that peace shared with others is war on their private interests. They have neglected all other things but say that your power is growing not for Greece but against it, and that you have plotted against us all now for a long time, and that you say you intend to help the Messenians if you settle the matters about the Phocians but in fact you intend to subjugate the Peloponnese. And they say that the Thessalians and Thebans and all who share in the amphictyony are ready to follow you and that the Argives, Messenians, Megalopolitans, and many others are ready to join you in the war and destroy the Lacedaemonians, and that if you accomplish this you will easily rule also the other Greeks. This is nonsense they are talking” (5.­20–­21, 5.­73–­75). “After the Lacedaemonians won their victory [362 BCE], they did not escape their troubles but now are warred against by those dwelling around their land, are distrusted by all the Peloponnesians, are hated by the multitude of the Greeks, are robbed day and night by their own servants, and every day are either campaigning against some or are fighting against some or are rescuing their own people who are being killed. And the greatest of the bad things: they continually fear that the Thebans, when they have settled matters with the Phocians, will come back and put on them greater misfortunes than happened before. How ought you not to think that those so disposed would gladly see in charge of the peace a reliable man and one able to settle their current wars? You see the Argives faring very much like the Lacedaemonians, and in some things worse than they. As long as the Argives have inhabited their city, they have made war against their neighbors, as the Lacedaemonians have, but they differ in that the Lacedaemonians were fighting against their inferiors, the Argives against their superiors. And all would agree that this is the greatest evil. They have been so unsuccessful in war that almost each year they see their land being cut up and sacked. And what is most terrible of all: when their enemies leave off harming them, they themselves kill the most reputable and wealthy of their citizens, and in doing this they find as much enjoyment as no others do when they are killing their enemies. The cause of their living in chaos is nothing else except the war. If you, Philip, settle this war, you will not only rescue the Argives from these things but also will make them plan better about other things. “You know the Theban affairs. After winning that very fine battle and having gotten a very great reputation from it [371 BCE], because they did 197

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not handle well their success they are faring no better than those who were defeated and suffered the misfortunes. As soon as they got power over their enemies, they neglected everything and caused trouble for the cities in the Peloponnese, dared to enslave Thessaly, threatened their neighbors the Megarians, took a portion of territory from our city [366 BCE], were sacking Euboea, and were sending triremes to Byzantium [363  BCE] as if they would rule both land and sea. In the end they brought on a war against the Phocians [­356–­346  BCE], thinking that they would control those cities in a short time, have all the surrounding territory, and would with their own expenditures surpass the treasures in Delphi. None of this happened, but instead of taking the cities of the Phocians they lost their own, and invading the city of their enemy they cause less harm than they suffer as they retreat to their own city. . . . ​In their retreat they lose the most reputable of their own men and those who especially have the courage to die for their fatherland. Their fortunes have turned around to the point that when they once hoped all Greeks would be subject to them, now they have hopes of their safety in you, Philip. And so I think that even they quickly will do whatever you order and advise them. “Now it would be left for me to talk about our city if it had not thought well and made the peace with you before the others did [346  BCE]. I think it now will fight as an ally with you in what you do, especially if it can see that you are making these arrangements before an expedition against the barbarian” (5.­49–­56; cf. 5.44). “It is worth mentioning both Persian kings, Artaxerxes III [r. ­358–­338 BCE], against whom I advise you to mount a campaign, and Artaxerxes II [r. ­404–­359 BCE], on whom Clearchus made war [401 BCE]. I want you to know the thinking and power of each. The father defeated in war our city [404 BCE] and later again the Lacedaemonians [394 BCE]. The son never defeated any of the armies that were harming his land. The father got all Asia from the Greeks in the treaty [386 BCE], but the son is so far from ruling others that he does not even control the cities that were given to him. And so there is no one who would not be at a loss whether one must think that he gave them up because of cowardice or that they looked down on and scorned his barbarian dynasty. Who, if he heard the situation in that country, would not be fired up to make war against Artaxerxes III? Egypt had revolted also in his father’s time, but the Egyptians were still afraid that the king himself might make a campaign and overcome all their preparations and the terrain, which was difficult because of the Nile River. But now Artaxerxes III has freed the Egyptians from this fear, because after he prepared as big a military force as he could and campaigned 198

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against them, he left not only defeated but also laughed at and seeming unworthy to be either a king or a general [343 BCE]. The area around Cyprus, Phoenicia, Cilicia, and that region from which they were drawing their navy was then the king’s, but now some of it has revolted; some is in war and such troubles that none of these tribes is useful to Artaxerxes III but will be helpful to you if you are willing to make war against him” (5.­99–­102; cf. 5.138). “What opinion should you expect all will have about you if in fact you do these things and, best of all, attempt to destroy the whole Persian kingdom, and if not that, if you try to separate off as much land as ­possible and take that part of Asia from Cilicia to Sinope, and if you try in addition to found cities in this region and settle there those Greeks who are now itinerants because of a lack of everyday necessities and are harming whomever they encounter? If we do not stop them from gathering together by providing a sufficient livelihood to them, they will become so numerous, without our realizing it, that they are no less frightening to the other Greeks than to the barbarians. We take no thought of these things but are unaware that a common danger to be feared is growing for all of us. “It is the role of a ­big-­thinking and Philhellenic man who has more foresight than others to be content with such accomplishments against the barbarians and to take as much territory as I said a little before, and to free the Greek mercenaries from the evils that they themselves have and that they cause for others, and to put together cities from them, and with these cities to establish borders for Greece and to put these cities out as a defense in front of us all. If you do these things, you will not only give them eudaimonia but you will also make us all safe. But if you fail, at least you will easily free the Greek cities in Asia. Whatever of these things you can do or even only attempt, you certainly will earn a better reputation than others, and justly so if you undertake these things and motivate the Greeks. Who would not now reasonably wonder at what has happened and scorn us, when the barbarians, whom we have assumed to be soft, inexperienced in war, and corrupted by luxury, have become men who expected to rule Greece, but no Greek has so thought as to attempt to make us rulers of Asia? We have become so inferior to them that they did not hesitate even to initiate the hatred against the Greeks, but we do not dare repay them for what we have badly suffered. They confess that in their wars they do not have soldiers or generals or anything else useful for battles. They send to us for all these things, but we so want to treat one another badly that when it is possible for us to take the Persian lands 199

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without fear, we make war against one another for small things, and we join the Persian king in overthrowing those who are revolting from his rule. We have not realized that sometimes we are seeking, alongside our ancestral enemies, to kill those who share the same kinship” (5.­120–­126; cf. 5.96, ­134–­136, 139).

Philip, Alexander, and Athens, 342 BCE Athenian dissatisfaction with the Peace of Philocrates, of 346 BCE, began almost immediately, fueled by the rhetoric of Demosthenes. The Athenians were particularly upset by the surrendering of Amphipolis, Potidaea, and Olynthus to Philip by the terms of the peace and also by his growing influence in the Greek world. In 343  BCE Philocrates, an Athenian promoter and negotiator of the peace, himself was tried and convicted of bribery, and in 342 BCE the Athenians began to assemble an alliance of Peloponnesian cities against Philip. During these years Philip had been heavily engaged in securing Macedonia’s borders and was intervening in Thrace, Thessaly, Epirus, and parts of Euboea. His expansion into eastern Thrace and alliance with Byzantium threatened Athens’s vital supply of grain from the Black Sea area. All this led, in 340 BCE, to the Athenian rejection of the peace terms and to a declaration of war against Philip. In 342 BCE, in contrast to the prevailing sentiment in Athens, Isocrates wrote a letter to Philip (Epist. 2) urging him to be more careful of his life in battles and to reconcile with the Athenians, to win their goodwill. “I must not leave aside the affairs of my city but must try to encourage you to look to its friendship and utility. I think many are reporting and telling the nastiest of the things that have been said about you here, and they are also adding things they make up. It is not reasonable to pay attention to them. You would be doing a strange thing if you should criticize our ­people for easily believing slanderers but then you yourself should appear to be trusting those who have this skill, and if you should not realize that the more they show our city easily led around by chance people, all the more they are showing it helping you. For if those who are able to do nothing good bring about whatever they want with their words, you who have the most power to benefit us in actions ought to get everything from us. “I think you ought to set against those who bitterly charge our city those who are saying the opposite. . . . ​I say that you could not find a city 200

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that has been more useful either to the Greeks or to your affairs. You ought to pay attention to this, because our city might become the cause of many good things not only if it allies with you but even if it only seems to be friendly. You could hold down those subject to you more easily if they had no refuge with us, and you could defeat more quickly whomever you wish of the barbarians. How ought you not to strive eagerly after a goodwill by which you will not only hold safely your current empire but also acquire another such without danger? “I wonder at those who hold power and hire the mercenary armies and spend a lot of money when they know that these armies have treated unjustly more of those who have trusted them than they have saved. But they do not try to court our city, which has the kind of power that many times already has saved all Greece and each of its cities. Realize that you seem to many to have planned well in treating the Thessalians justly and in a way beneficial to them, and they are men hard to deal with, ­high-­spirited and full of civil discord. You ought then to try to be like that also about us. The Thessalians have land neighboring yours, but we have a military force next to you. Try to bring our city over to your side in every way possible, for it is much better to win the goodwill of cities than to capture their walls. Taking of walls and such deeds not only bring ill will, but people attribute them to armies; but if you can acquire their friendship and goodwill, all will praise your thinking” (Epist. 2.­16–­21). In 342 BCE Philip invited Aristotle to Macedonia to tutor his son, Alexander. This same year Isocrates wrote a very brief letter to Alexander, now fourteen years old, saying, among other things, “I hear that all are saying you are philanthropic, love Athens, and are philosophical not in a foolish but in a sensible way. I hear that you welcome not those of our citizens who have neglected their own affairs or desire wicked things but those with whom you would not be annoyed to spend time and from whom you would suffer no harm or injustice if you met them and shared activities. They are the kinds of people with whom those who think well ought to associate” (Epist. 5.2).

Athens, the Greeks, and Philip, 339 BCE In 339 BCE Athens was at war with Philip, and this year Isocrates thought it dangerous even to send a letter to Macedonia. He did, however, send a 201

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letter (Epist. 4) recommending a former student to the Macedonian Antipater, who was serving Philip as regent of Macedonia. Isocrates praises Antipater for his philanthropy and reminds him of the goodwill that Isocrates has always had toward him (Epist. 4.9, 12). Many of Isocrates’ praises of previous times in Panathenaicus (12), of 339 BCE, are implicit or explicit criticisms of the domestic situation of the current period, the positive, as it were, of the negative image of this period. These may be found especially in 12.130, ­138–­148, ­163–­168, and ­196–­197, all of them fully translated in previous sections. Here I briefly use them to paint a picture of the negative, the domestic situation in 339  BCE as Isocrates saw it. Athenians no longer avoid but seek public office, and do so for private gain. They choose as their generals and ambassadors military types and not those who have proven their worth in discussions of public affairs. They now use as advisers those who waste their inheritances on shameful pleasures, try to use public funds to bolster their private fortunes, say only what will win public favor, “just pretend to love the common people,” and claim to be concerned for other Greeks but cause them trouble and alienate them by malicious prosecutions. The laws concern primarily private contracts, not public affairs, and are full of confusion and contradiction and are so numerous that no one can comprehend either the useful or the useless ones. Throughout his career Isocrates had praised and promoted Greek opposition to the Persians and their kings, and in this, his final public discourse to the Athenian people, he gives this rather bleak assessment: “Now the greatest Greek cities are not ashamed to fawn over the wealth of the king of Persia, but the Argives and Thebans helped him conquer Egypt in war [343 BCE] so that he, now with the greatest power, may plot against the Greeks. We and the Spartiates, although we have an alliance, are more alienated from each other than we are from those against whom each of us is making war. And there is no small indication of this: We do not plan together about any matter, but we separately each send ambassadors to the king, hoping that whichever of us he is more friendly to will gain the advantage among the Greeks. We badly understand that the king customarily treats insultingly those who serve him but tries to settle in every way his differences with those who face up to him and scorn his power. . . . ​Now we and the Lacedaemonians think it right to rule the Greeks, but we send ambassadors to the king [341 BCE] about friendship and alliance” (12.­159–­162). 202

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Isocrates’ Last Words, 338 BCE In 338 BCE, near the town of Chaeronea, in Boeotia, Philip gave a crushing defeat to Greek forces led by Thebes and Athens and established his dominance over mainland and Peloponnesian Greeks. The Greeks of Asia Minor remained subject to the king of Persia. Just after the Battle of Chaeronea, Isocrates, now ­ninety-­eight years old, wrote to Philip the following letter, which was to be his last surviving work (Epist. 3). “I discussed with Antipater what was beneficial to the city and to you, sufficiently as I was persuading myself, but I also wanted to write you about what I think must be done after the peace. It is very similar to what I wrote in the discourse [To Philip] but much briefer than that. At that time [346 BCE] I was advising you that you must reconcile our city and the Lacedaemonians and the Thebans and Argives and establish harmony for the Greeks. I believed that if you persuaded the leading cities to think like that, the other cities would quickly follow. Then it was a different situation, but now it has turned out that you no longer need to persuade them. Because of the battle [of Chaeronea, in 338 BCE] all have been forced to think well and want what they suspect you wish to do and say: that is, that they must stop their madness and attempts to gain the advantage over one another and must bring the war to Asia. “Many ask me whether I advised you to make the expedition against the barbarians or simply agreed with you after you thought of it. I say I do not know for certain because I did not meet with you before that, but I do think that you made decisions about these things and what I said agreed with your desires. As they were hearing this, all were asking me to bid and encourage you to remain with these plans since never might there be finer or more beneficial actions for the Greeks or ones done at a more opportune time. “If I had the same power that I had before and were not completely worn out, I would not be communicating with you through a letter, but I would in person be urging these actions on you. But now as much as I can I encourage you not to neglect these things until you complete them. Insatiability in anything else is not good, because moderation has a good reputation among the many. But it is fitting for those far superior to others to desire and never have their fill of a good and fine reputation. And that is true of you. “Believe that you then will have a reputation that is unsurpassable and 203

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worthy of your accomplishments when you force the barbarians, except those who ally with you, to serve the Greeks as helots and when you make the one now called the Great King do whatever you order. Then nothing will be left except for you to become a god. To accomplish these things is much easier given the current circumstances than it was for you to progress from the kingdom you initially had to the power and reputation that you now have. I am grateful to my old age in this only, that it brought my life to the point that I get to see that some of the things I thought of when I was young and was attempting to write about in Panegyricus [380 BCE] and in To Philip [346 BCE] are now already happening, and the others I hope will happen.” This last writing of Isocrates, however brief, reflects several of his ­now-­familiar traits and concerns: his role as an advisor but not as an actor in political and international affairs; his involvement with kings and princes of the Greek world; his passionate devotion to his proposed expedition against the Persians; his referrals to his previous works, some decades old; his old age; his bent toward offering autobiographical detail and bringing attention back to himself; the prime importance he gives to having a good reputation; the notion that virtue is rewarded, perhaps even with deification; and his underlying optimism that the future can be better. This letter raises some interesting questions of Isocrates’ loyalties. Only days after Athens’s devastating defeat at Chaeronea by Philip, when Athenians were rightly fearful about their very survival, Isocrates was talking with the Macedonian Antipater. Despite the ongoing war between Athens and Macedonia, he had written a friendly letter to Antipater in Macedonia two years earlier, but now Antipater was in Athens, as Philip’s agent in the defeated and occupied city. Isocrates then writes this letter to Philip, Athens’s mortal enemy, not in defense or support of Athens but to further his ­long–­dreamed of expedition against Persia. He sees Philip’s victory at Chaeronea as an opportunity to promote his own cause, a Panhellenic cause, not as a crushing blow to Athens and to the independence of Greeks on the mainland. Isocrates, like Plato, through his students had become close to several dynasts in the Greek world, and that, combined with his criticisms of their contemporary democracy, must have troubled many of his fellow Athenians. In Antidosis, sixteen years earlier, he felt the need to defend his discourse promoting monarchy for the Cyprian king Nicocles. But Philip was another matter. Since 357 BCE 204

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Philip had been moving aggressively against Athenian colonies and allies in the northern Aegean area and even central Greece, and many Athenians, especially Demosthenes, increasingly saw him as a mortal threat to mainland Greece and especially Athens. Despite this, Isocrates’ passionate devotion to the cause of a Panhellenic expedition against Persia led him as early as 346  BCE to invoke Philip’s aid. Ultimately, in this last letter, Isocrates is more concerned with the furtherance of this expedition than with the fortunes of his homeland. Throughout his writings we see this tension between admiration and praise for successful monarchs and criticisms of the current democracy at home, however much he nostalgically respected what Athenian democracy had been in the past and idealistically imagined what it could be in the future. This last letter to Philip also raises questions of Isocrates’ influence. Did Philip plan or act on the expedition to Persia because of Isocrates’ encouragement in 346 BCE and afterward? And this opens the more general question of Isocrates’ influence in his own time. The statues and portrait of him described in the Life were erected during his lifetime or shortly after in prominent places, the Acropolis, the Olympieion, the Pompeion, and the sanctuary of Demeter at Eleusis, but they were honorific dedications by family and friends, not by the state. He was read and studied and no doubt much talked about by contemporary philosophers such as Plato and Aristotle. Some of his students became prominent citizens in Athens or monarchs in the rest of the Greek world. Two became prominent historians. But none of his students formed in Athens a lasting school of his philosophy like the Academy of Plato or the Lyceum of Aristotle. In terms of political influence at home, there is no clear indication that his criticisms and advice on Athenian domestic or foreign policy had any impact. No explicit mention of him is to be found in the surviving works of contemporary orators speaking on such issues, and, not surprising given his aversion to active political involvement, his name does not occur on any of the surviving inscribed decrees or state documents of his time. Most intriguing is whether his promotion of the expedition of united Greeks against Persia did, in fact, influence Philip to declare such an expedition in 337 BCE or Alexander to make it in 334. This is a most complex question, and there is no scholarly consensus on it. Most scholars think that at the time Isocrates wrote this letter Philip had probably been thinking about it but was distracted by other matters and had not yet laid plans for it. He then was assassinated, in 336 BCE, before he could undertake any 205

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such expedition. Be that as it may, one can at least claim that ­forty-­six years before Alexander undertook his invasion of Persia, Isocrates had the vision and then tirelessly and largely alone promoted it for the rest of his life. And it happened. Isocrates’ greatest influence, however, came long after his death and has ranged from the days of the Roman Republic down through the Middle Ages, the Renaissance, and even to the present day. His emphasis on an elegant prose style, rhetoric as the basis of education, and a philosophy directed to practical morality and civic engagement became the core of Roman education for the upper classes. Cicero and Quintilian especially admired him and wrote much about him, and through their writings in Latin Isocrates’ influence on education for the elite remained dominant in the Middle Ages and the Renaissance. Classicists tend to emphasize Isocrates’ faults and judge him as a man of his time, but over the millennia, especially in the realm of rhetorical and moral education and in educational theory, Isocrates has had and still has the reputation of being a serious person, one much read and talked about by thoughtful people. Isocrates would be pleased to know that Queen Elizabeth I, as part of her education, translated To Nicocles and Nicocles from Greek and that Demonicus can be described today as “a standard school text in the west from antiquity, through the Renaissance, and into the nineteenth century . . , one of the ­most–­often used texts in Western education” (Papillon, “Isocrates,” ­68–­69). He would also be pleased to know that Thomas Jefferson owned, read, and treasured a 1662 edition of his orations and letters, in Greek with a Latin translation. Or that some today promote him as model for practicing public relations. Or, as a last example, that some modern theorists label him “The Father of the Liberal Arts” and fiercely debate whether or not we should continue to follow Isocratean principles of education. All this, one might claim, bestows on Isocrates the great, undying reputation that he craved and that he thought he so richly deserved. For Isocrates that reputation would be more lasting, more important, and more gratifying than those statues in bronze, which have all been lost.

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introduction 1. The epigraph to this book (Plato, Phaedrus 2­ 78e10–­279b1) serves as a Rorschach Test for a scholar’s evaluation of Isocrates. The dramatic date of the Phaedrus is probably the last decade of the fifth century, before 403 BCE, when Isocrates would have been 26 to 30 years old. In Greek terms he is still a young man. The date of the composition of the Phaedrus is placed between 370 and 350 BCE, when Isocrates would have been between 66 and 86 years old, after he had published several of his major discourses. Plato’s and Isocrates’ views of “philosophy” and “rhetoric” are certainly antithetical, and Platonists who think Plato could not respect or appreciate rival views see beneath Socrates’ apparent praises of Isocrates in this passage irony and Plato’s sly attack on Isocrates and his philosophical career. See, e.g., Coulter, ­225–­236. For a balanced account of this passage, see Yunis, 2­ 44–­246. Those wishing to pursue the question further may refer to the ­sixty-­four items of bibliography collected by Thomas Blank (2014, 34n47). 2. One may find the archetypal criticisms of Isocrates in the essay “Isocrates” written by N. H. Baynes in 1947 and first published in 1955 in Byzantine Studies and Other Essays (London, 1955; repr., 1974), ­144–­167. 3. For the arguments against, see Mikkola, ­277–­285. Thomas Blank (2017, 16) puts it well: Demonicus is by either “Isocrates or his very competent imitator.”

chapter 1. isocrates: his life 1. For questions of authorship and for a full bibliography on the Life, see Roisman and Worthington, esp. ­6–­29 and ­139–­169. 2. For “moderate” here as a “conforming citizen regardless of one’s means,” see Roisman and Worthington, ­140–­141. 3. [Plut.] omits here but later includes a third brother of Isocrates, Theodorus: Roisman and Worthington, 141. 4. Aristophanes, frag. 700 (K‑A) and Strattis, frag. 3 (K‑A). For the lewd joke, see Roisman and Worthington, 141.

not e s to c hap t er 1 5. This would put Lysias’s birth in 459/458, but this is unlikely. See Roisman and Worthington, 142. 6. On Isocrates’ relationship to Prodicus, Gorgias, and Tisias, see Roisman and Worthington, ­142–­144. Theramenes, apparently, never taught rhetoric. 7. On this episode, one of many “historical anecdotes of dubious validity,” see Roisman and Worthington, ­144–­145. 8. Perhaps during the Decelean War, of ­413–­404 BCE (Roisman and Worthington, 146). 9. This speech (15) was not in fact an actual speech delivered in a courtroom. See Roisman and Worthington, 147. 10. On the schools founded by Isocrates, see Roisman and Worthington, 1­ 48–­149. 11. On Isocrates’ political activities on Chios, see Roisman and Worthington, ­150–­151. 12. On the number of students and on Timotheus’s ties to Isocrates, see Roisman and Worthington, ­151–­152. 13. Theopompus wrote a history of the world from 1069 to 341 BCE in thirty books. Ephorus wrote The Hellenica in twelve books and The Philippica in ­fifty-­eight books covering the period 411 to 336 BCE. All these writings survive only in fragments. On them and their relationship to Isocrates and on Asclepiades and Theodectes, see Roisman and Worthington, ­152–­153. 14. On this anecdote, “not above suspicion,” and on Isocrates’ fee, see Roisman and Worthington, 155. 15. On the various traditions about Isocrates’ death, see Roisman and Worthington, ­155–­156. Isocrates apparently had enough time between the Battle of Chaeronea and his death to write Epist. 3 to Philip. 16. From the Archelaus, frag. 228 (Kannicht). Danaus, son of the king of Egypt, fled from Egypt to Argos with his fifty daughters and was eventually chosen as king by the Argives. The kings of Argos traced their descent from him. 17. Iphigenia in Tauris, 1. Pelops emigrated from Phrygia to Greece and eventually became the king of Pisa. He is the eponym of the Peloponnese, “the Island of Pelops.” 18. From the Phrixus, frag. 819 (Kannicht). Cadmus emigrated from Phoenicia and founded and became the first king of Thebes. 19. The three previous “enslavements” were those suggested in the previously quoted lines of tragedy. See Roisman and Worthington, 157. 20. The consensus among ancient and modern scholars is ten years (Roisman and Worthington, 158). 21. On Gorgias’s (392 BCE) and Lysias’s (384 BCE) Olympic orations, see Roisman and Worthington, 158. 22. On Plathanē, the identity of Hippias, and the adoption of Aphareus before 369/368 BCE, when Isocrates was about s­ ixty-­six years old, see Roisman and Worthington, ­158–­159. 23. “The huge sum of twenty talents inspires little confidence”: Roisman and Worthington, ­159–­160.

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not e s to c hap t er s 1–2 24. Roisman and Worthington (160) think this quotation is more appropriately attributed to Aristippus of Cyrenē. 25. Mausolus was the ruler of Caria from 377 until his death in 353 BCE. 26. Cf. Paus. 1.18.8. On Isocrates’ tomb and family members, see Roisman and Worthington, ­161–­163. 27. On this statue, its likely cost, Isocrates’ relationship to the general Timotheus, the epigram, and the sculptor Leochares, see Roisman and Worthington, 1­ 63–­164. 28. The extant writings of Isocrates include t­wenty-­one orations and nine letters: Roisman and Worthington, 164. 29. Modern scholars dispute this; see Roisman and Worthington, 165. 30. On Nicocreon, in fact the king of Cyprian Salamis, and on the inconvenient fact that he ascended the throne six years after Isocrates died, see Roisman and Worthington, 166. 31. Anecdote attributed to Pericles in Plutarch, Pericles 8 and Cicero, De Officiis 1.40.144. See Roisman and Worthington, 166. 32. On “saffron, sex, and luxury,” see Roisman and Worthington, 167. 33. On Lagiscē and Isocrates, see Roisman and Worthington, 167. 34. The Olympieion is the Temple of Zeus Olympios in Athens. Pausanias (1.18.8) saw the statue there. 35. For the text and for the type and site of this statue, see Roisman and Worthington, 168. 36. On the Pompeion, just outside the Dipylon Gate in Athens, and on the fact that “all attested works depicting Isocrates seem to have been placed in prime locations and to have enjoyed good visibility,” see Roisman and Worthington, 168. 37. On Aphareus’s career as a dramatist and on the role of Dionysius, see Roisman and Worthington, 169. 38. On the problem of the assignment of these sons to Naco, see Roisman and Worthington, 162. They would assign the sons to Aphareus.

chapter 2. isocrates: on himself 1. “L’affirmation d’auctorialité, la présence et l’engagement personnel d’Isocrate dans ses œuvres sont tels, du Panégyrique au Panathénaïque, qu’il serait tentant de considérer l’ensemble de ses écrits comme un vaste histoire du Moi, un tout autobiographique” (The assertion of authorship, the presence and personal engagement of Isocrates in his works are such that, from Panegyricus to Panathenaicus, it is tempting to consider the entirety of his writings as a vast history of self, one totally autobiographical). P. ­Giovannelli-­Jouanna, in Bouchet and ­Giovannelli-­Jouanna, 83. 2. For Isocrates’ repeated claims of inexperience in lawsuits, see 15.­26–­28, 38, ­40–­42, 144, 150. 3. Papillon (222n108) nicely captures the situation: “In a discourse that is a fictive presentation of a real situation, we have the fictive author presenting a fictive student presenting a fictive response of the orator.”

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chapter 3. isocrates: on morality and religion 1. As discussed in the introduction, many scholars challenge the attribution of the Demonicus to Isocrates, but I, for reasons given there, include it among his works. 2. On this, see “Terms Needing Definition” and Mikalson, especially ­9–­11.

chapter 4. isocrates: on philosophy, education, rhetoric, and poetry 1. Cf. 15.­274–­275. 2. The “man” here is probably Pericles. See Too, 213.

chapter 6. isocrates: on athenian and greek history 1. For a list of the labors of Theseus, see 10.­25–­29. For Isocrates’ very mild criticism of Theseus’s infatuation with the prepubescent Helen, see 10.­18–­21. 2. Helen was eventually to have a cult in Sparta. 3. In Panegyricus Isocrates gives “seventy” years (4.76). In 12.56 he is apparently dating Athenian rule from the beginning of the Delian League (478 BCE) to the Sicilian disaster (413 BCE).

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Alexiou, E. 2010. Der Euagoras des Isokrates. Berlin. [Commentary on Evagoras (9).] Alwine, A. T. 2015. Enmity and Feuding in Classical Athens. Austin. Bartzoka, Alexandra. 2015. “Le dèmos et l’Aréopage dans la vision politique et morale d’Isocrate.” In Isocrate, entre jeu rhétorique et enjeux politiques, edited by C. Bouchet and P. ­Giovannelli-­Jouanna, ­175–­184. Lyon. Baynes, N. H. 1955. “Isocrates.” In Byzantine Studies and Other Essays, 1­44–­167. London, 1955. [Reprint, 1974.] Blank, T. 2017. “Counsellor, Teacher, Friend: The Apragmon as Political Figure in Isocrates.” Dialogues d’Histoire Ancienne, supplément 17: ­263–­290. ———. 2014. Logos und Praxis: Sparta als politisches Exemplum in den Schriften des Isokrates. Klio, Beihefte, neue Folge, 23. Berlin. Böhme, P. 2009. Isokrates: Gegen die Sophisten: Ein Kommentar. Berlin. [Commentary on Against the Sophists (13).] Bouchet, C., and P. ­Giovannelli-­Jouanna, eds. 2015. Isocrate, entre jeu rhétorique et enjeux politiques. Lyon. [This volume collects ­twenty-­three papers, in French and Italian, on a wide range of topics related to Isocrates.] Coulter, J. A. 1967. “Phaedrus 279a: The Praise of Isocrates.” GRBS 8: ­225–­236. Garnjobst, J. S. 2006. The Epistles of Isocrates: A Historical and Grammatical Commentary. Santa Barbara. [Commentary on the letters.] Hornblower, S. 2011. The Greek World: ­479–­323 BC. 4th edition. London. Laistner, M. L. W. 1927. Isocrates: De Pace and Philippus. New York. [Commentary on On the Peace (8) and To Philip (5); reprint: 2017.] Liou, J.‑P. 1991. “Isocrate et le vocabulaire du pouvoir personnel: Roi, monarque et tyran.” Ktèma 16: ­211–­217. Livingstone, N. 2001. A Commentary on Isocrates’ Busiris. Leiden. [Commentary on Busiris (11).] Mikalson, J. D. 2010. Greek Popular Religion in Greek Philosophy. Oxford. [See especially ­6–­15.] Mikkola, E. 1954. Isokrates: Seine Anschauungen im Lichte seiner Schriften. Helsinki. Mirhady, D. C., and Y. L. Too, trans. 2000. Isocrates. Austin. Norlin, G., trans. 1­ 928–­1929. Isocrates. Vols. I and II. Cambridge, MA. [Loeb edition.]

sel ect ed bibl io g raphy Papillon, T. L., trans. 2004. Isocrates. Vol. II. Austin. Roisman, J., and I. Worthington. 2015. Lives of the Attic Orators. Oxford. Roth, P. 2003. Der Panathenaikos des Isokrates: Übersetzung und Kommentar. Leipzig. [Commentary on Panathenaicus (12).] Too, Y.  L. 2008. A Commentary on Isocrates’ Antidosis. Oxford. [Commentary on ­Antidosis (15).] Tritle, L.  A., ed. 1997. The Greek World in the Fourth Century: From the Fall of the ­Athenian Empire to the Successors of Alexander. London. Usher, S. 1990. Greek Orators. Vol. III, Isocrates. Warminster. [Commentary on Panegyricus (4) and To Nicocles (2).] van Hook, L., trans. 1945. Isocrates. Vol. III. Cambridge, MA. [Loeb edition.] Whitehead, D. 2004. “Isokrates for Hire: Some Preliminaries to a Commentary on Isokrates ­16–­21.” In Law, Rhetoric and Comedy in Classical Athens, edited by D. L. Cairns and R. A. Knox, 1­ 51–­185. Swansea. [Commentary on the forensic orations (­16–­21).] Worthington, I., ed. 2007. A Companion to Greek Rhetoric. Oxford. Yunis, H. 2011. Plato: Phaedrus. Cambridge, UK. Zajonz, S. 2002. Isokrates’ Enkomion auf Helena: Ein Kommentar. Göttingen. [Commentary on Encomium of Helen (10).] Zingg, E. 2017. Isokrates: Archidamos; Einleitung, Text, Übersetzung und Kommentar. Düsseldorf. [Commentary on Archidamus (6).]

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The further readings listed below are selected on the basis of their sole or primary emphasis on Isocrates and his writings. Preference is given also to fairly modern works whose bibliographies will lead the reader to much, much more material of interest. Alexiou, E. 1995. Ruhm und Ehre: Studien zu Begriffen, Werten und Motivierungen bei Isokrates. Heidelberg. Azoulay, V. 2010. “Isocrate et les élites: Cultiver la distinction.” In La cité et ses élites: Pratiques et représentation des formes de domination et de contrôle social dans les cités grecques, edited by L. Capdetrey and Y. Lafond, ­19–­48. Paris. Bons, J. A. E. 2006. “Isocrates on Being Religious and Moral Conduct.” In Land of Dreams: Greek and Latin Studies in Honour of A. H. M. Kessels, edited by A. P. M. H. Lardinois, M. van der Poel, and V. Hunink, ­259–­266. Leiden. Bouchet, C. 2014. Isocrate l'Athénien; ou, La belle hégémonie. Bordeaux. Cloché, P. 1978. Isocrate et son temps. Paris. De Romilly, J. 1958. “Eunoia in Isocrates; or, The Political Importance of Creating Good Will.” Journal of Hellenic Studies 78: ­92–­101. Edwards, L. C. 2010. “Shifting Paradigms: Mimesis in Isocrates.” In Allusion, Authority, and Truth, edited by P. Mitsos and C. Tsagalis, ­377–­400. Berlin. Engels, J. 2003. “Antike Überlieferungen über die Schüler des Isokrates.” In Neue ­Ansätze zur Bewertung eines politischen Schriftstellers, edited by W. Orth, ­175–­194. Trier. Eucken, C. 1983. Isokrates: Seine Positionen in der Auseinandersetzung mit den zeitgenössischen Philosophen. Berlin. Flower, M. A. 1994. Theopompus of Chios. Oxford. [See especially ­42–­62.] Fuks, A. 1972. “Isokrates and the ­Social-­Economic Situation in Greece.” Ancient ­Society 3: ­17–­44. Gotteland, S. 2014. “Βία et ὕβρις: Quelques remarques sur le vocabulaire de la violence politique chez Isocrate.” Ktèma 39: ­235–­251. Halliwell, S. 1997. “Philosophical Rhetoric or Rhetorical Philosophy? The Strange Case of Isocrates.” In The Rhetoric Canon, edited by B. D. Schildgen, ­107–­125. Detroit. Hamilton, C. D. 1979. “Greek Rhetoric and History: The Case of Isocrates,” In Arktouros: Hellenic Studies Presented to Bernard M. W. Knox, edited by G. W. Bowersock, W. Burkert, and M. C. J. Putnam, ­290–­298. Berlin.

furt her r eadings Johnson, R. 1957. “A Note on the Number of Isocrates’ Pupils.” American Journal of Philology 78: ­297–­300. ———. 1959. “Isocrates’ Methods of Teaching.” American Journal of Philology 80: ­25–­36. Marincola, J. 2014. “Rethinking Isocrates and Historiography.” In Between Thucydides and Polybius: The Golden Age of Greek Historiography, edited by G. N. Parmeggiani, ­39–­61. Washington, DC. Markle, M. M., III. 1976. “Support of Athenian Intellectuals for Philip: A Study of Isocrates’ Philippus and Speusippus’ Letter to Philip.” Journal of Hellenic Studies 96: ­80–­99. Marsh, C. 2010. “Millennia of Discord: The Controversial Educational Program of Isocrates.” Theory and Research in Education 8: ­289–­303. Morgan, K. A. 2003. “The Tyranny of the Audience in Plato and Isocrates.” In Popular Tyranny: Sovereignty and Its Discontents in Ancient Greece, edited by K. A. Morgan, ­181–­213. Austin. [See especially ­183–­191.] Muir, J. R. 2019. The Legacy of Isocrates and a Platonic Alternative: Political Philosophy and the Value of Education. New York. Ober, J. 1998. Political Dissent in Democratic Athens: Intellectual Critics of Popular Rule. Princeton, NJ. [See especially ­248–­289 on Antidosis (15) and Areopagiticus (7).] Papillon, T. L. 1996. “Isocrates and the Use of Myth.” Hermathena 161: ­9–­21. ———. 2007. “Isocrates.” In A Companion to Greek Rhetoric, edited by I. Worthington, ­58–­74. Oxford. Poulakos, T. 1997. Speaking for the Polis: Isocrates’ Rhetorical Education. Columbia, SC. Poulakos, T., and D. Depew, eds. 2004. Isocrates and Civic Education. Austin. [This volume comprises ten papers on Isocrates’ theories of education in a political context, including relationships to sophists, Plato, Aristotle, and modern trends.] Roisman, J. 2005. The Rhetoric of Manhood: Masculinity in the Attic Orators. Berkeley, CA. [See especially ­210–­212.] Rummel, E. 1976. Isocrates’ Moral Ideas and Their Background. Toronto. Saïd, S. 2003. “Envy and Emulation in Isocrates.” In Envy, Spite and Jealousy, edited by D. Konstan and N. Keith Rutter, ­217–­234. Edinburgh. Scafuro, A. C. 2019. “Historical Readings of Oratory.” In The Oxford Handbook of Demosthenes, edited by G. Martin, ­33–­44. Oxford. Tamiolaki, M., ed. 2018. Xenophon and Isocrates: Political Affinities and Literary Interaction. Trends in Classics, vol. 10, no. 1. Berlin. [This volume comprises ten papers on various aspects of Isocrates’ (as compared with Xenophon’s) treatment of a wide range of topics, including, but not limited to, Persia, Sparta, courage of monarchs, philotimia, tyranny and democracy, civil discord, government, and constructions of authority.] Too, Y. L. 1995. The Rhetoric of Identity in Isocrates. Cambridge, UK. Walzer, A. E. 2005. “Teaching Political Wisdom: Isocrates and the Tradition of Dissoi Logoi.” In The Viability of the Rhetorical Tradition, edited by R. Graff, A. E. Walzer, and J. M. Atwill, ­113–­124. Albany, NY. Welles, C. B. 1966. “Isocrates’ View of History.” In The Classical Tradition, edited by L. Wallach, ­3–­25. Ithaca, NY.

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Achilles, 44, 121 Adrastus of Argos, 67, 87, 119–120 Aeacus of Aegina, 70–71 Aegospotamoi, battle of, xiii–xiv, 140, 143, 145, 147, 152, 161–162, 165 Agamemnon, 38, 44, 47, 49–50, 121–122 Agesilaus of Sparta, xiii, 49, 162, 176–177 Ajax, 44, 70, 121 Alcibiades I, 126 Alcibiades II, 74, 146, 148–153 Alcibiades III, 74, 149–151, 153, 155 Alcmene, 61 Alcmeon of Croton, 77 Alexander, son of Priam. See Paris Alexander III of Macedonia, 36, 83, 201, 205–206 Amazons, 119, 181 Amphipolis, 183, 196, 200 Amphitryon of Tiryns, 61 Amyntas of Macedonia, 166 antidosis, xi, 14, 17, 21, 34, 36, 186–187 Antipater of Macedonia, 32–33, 202–204 Anytus of Athens, 156 Aphareus of Athens, 15–17, 208–209 Aphrodite, 123 Archidamus III of Sparta, xiii, 8, 23, 29, 50, 58, 74, 93–95, 132, 136–137, 173–177 Areopagus Council, xiii, 127, 180 Argos and Argives, 122, 125, 202–203, 208; and Alcibiades, 150; burial of dead of, 67, 87, 119–120, 171; civil

war of, 197; Corinthian War, 157, 164; and Heracles, 119, 125; and Lacedaemonians, 125, 157, 164, 176, 197, 203. See also Adrastus of Argos; Danaus of Argos; Eurystheus of Argos Aristides of Athens, 128 aristocracy, in Athens, 115–117, 120–125. See also democracy Aristophanes, 14, 207 Aristotle, 2, 9, 201, 205 Artaxerxes I, king of Persia, 138 Artaxerxes II, king of Persia, xiii, 1, 8, 67, 138, 157, 159–166, 177, 182, 198 Artaxerxes III, king of Persia, xiii, 1, 8, 26, 56, 177–179, 181, 183, 198–199, 202–204 Artemisia of Caria, 15 Artemisium, battle of, 131–132 Athena, 17, 123 autochthony, 115, 117–118, 184 beauty, 60–61; of people, 24, 44, 54, 60–62, 111, 177; of things, 36, 43, 51, 60, 64, 73, 86, 95, 104, 140; as a virtue, 43–44, 60–61, 84 Busiris of Egypt, xiii, 53, 80, 110–111 Byzantium, 27, 168, 178, 192, 198, 200 Cadmus of Thebes, 15, 122, 208 Carthage, 143

g eneral index Cecrops of Athens, 119 Chaeronea, battle of, 15–16, 178, 203–204, 208 Chios and Chians, 14, 27, 157, 168, 178, 192, 208 Cicero, 206, 209 City Dionysia, 17, 75, 142–143 Clearchus of Heracleia Pontica, xiv, 30, 53, 109 Clearchus of Sparta, 157, 159–160, 198 Cleisthenes of Athens, xiii, 8, 116, 125–126, 146, 179 Cleophon of Athens, 128 Cnidus, battle of, xiii, 144, 161–165, 198 colonization, 28, 116–117, 124, 136, 141, 165, 196, 205 comedy, 88–89 Conon of Athens, xiii, 69, 147, 161–162, 164 Corinth and Corinthians, 157, 163–164, 176 Corinthian War, 157, 163–164, 168 Cos, 178 courage, 52–53; of Athenians, 53, 58, 133, 138, 181; of Isocrates, 1, 5–6, 16, 55; of other individuals, 44, 50, 53, 55, 111, 120; of other peoples, 53, 159, 168, 198; situations involving, 1, 5–6, 16, 41–42, 52–53, 83, 93, 120, 133, 138, 159, 168, 198; as a virtue, 41–42, 44, 46, 52–53, 58, 83 Cresphontes of Messenē, 125 Crithote, 192–193 Cunaxa, battle of, 159–160 Cyprus, 113, 143, 147, 161–163, 199. See also Evagoras of Cyprian Salamis; Nicocles of Cyprian Salamis Cyrus the Elder of Persia, 67, 69 Cyrus the Younger of Persia, 67, 159–160 Cythera, 164–165 Danaus of Argos, 15, 122, 208 Darius I, king of Persia, 130–131 Darius II, king of Persia, 138, 151, 157

deities, 69–71; chthonic, 69; demigods, 23, 70–71, 88; heroes, 70, 148, 170; Olympian, 53, 69, 170 Delian League, 116, 137, 140, 210 Delphic Amphictyony, 196–197 Delphic Oracle, 125, 198 Demeter, 71, 118, 205 democracy, 3, 55, 90, 97, 112–118, 138, 145–146, 155; characteristics of, 50, 53, 99–100, 107, 113–114, 152, 184; of Isocrates’ time, 8, 89, 117, 139, 179–188, 193, 204–205; overthrow of, in Athens, xiv, 114, 147–155, 182, 184–185; restoration of, in Athens, xiv, 116, 149, 152–156; of Solon and Cleisthenes, xiii, 8, 116, 125–129, 139, 179–180; of Theseus, 115–116, 119–121 Demonicus of Cyprus, xiii, 40, 53, 57–59, 71 Demosthenes of Athens, 15, 196, 200, 205 Diodotus, 32–33 Diomnestus of Athens, 14 Dionysius I of Sicily, xii, 8, 33, 166, 172–174 Dionysius II of Sicily, 172, 174 Dioscuri, 71 Dorian invasion, 72, 116–117, 124–125, 145 education, 44–45, 50–51, 64, 74, 76–87, 101, 187–190; Athenian reputation for, 86, 148, 187–189; Isocrates’ legacy of, 206; Isocrates’ own, 2, 14, 19–21; Isocrates’ practice of, 5–6, 14, 19, 29–33, 37–39, 76–87, 189, 206; other practitioners of, 19–20, 23, 30, 38, 50, 76, 78–81, 188–190; as physical training, 50, 78–79, 82–83; through poetry, 44–45, 76, 87–89; prerequisites for, 30–31, 77, 79, 81, 84, 188; products of, 30–31, 41, 44, 50, 53, 64, 78–86, 97, 120, 127, 180–181, 187–190. See also philosophy; rhetoric

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g eneral index Egypt and Egyptians, 8, 68, 71, 75, 110–111, 122, 143, 174, 198–199, 202 Eleusinian Mysteries, 118 Elizabeth I (British queen), 206 Embata, battle of, xiv, 192 Empedocles of Acragas, 77 Epaminondas of Thebes, 173, 176 Ephorus of Cumae, 15, 17, 205, 208 Erichthonius of Athens, 118–119 Euboea, 131, 141, 198, 200 eudaimonia, xi, 42, 49, 52, 59, 74, 86, 91, 94, 99, 102, 109–110, 114, 126–127, 143, 177, 180, 182, 185; of Athens and Athenians, 59, 75, 83, 93, 126–127, 129, 136, 143, 177, 180, 182, 185, 194; of Isocrates, 39, 55; of other countries, 59, 99, 106, 109, 122, 157, 174, 199; of other individuals, 52, 74, 98, 113, 139, 141, 146, 164, 186 Eumolpidae of Athens, 135 Eumolpus of Athens, 141 Euripides, 15 Eurybiades of Sparta, 134 Eurystheus of Argos, 119, 125 eusebeia. See proper respect for the gods Evagoras of Cyprian Salamis, xiii–xiv, 33, 44, 47–50, 62, 67, 69, 71–72, 111–113, 123, 147, 161–162 festivals. See heortai; panēgyreis Four Hundred, xiv, 116, 148–152 Gaia, 118 gentleness, 51, 53–54, 77, 93, 99, 101, 104, 108, 110, 112, 169; of Athenians, 53, 118, 129, 141, 180, 188, 190; of other individuals, 27, 30, 53–54, 106, 108, 112, 194; situations involving, 27, 30, 53, 93, 99, 101, 104, 106, 108, 110, 112, 118, 129, 141, 169, 180, 190; as a virtue, 51, 53–54 good thinking, 6, 24–25, 31–32, 49–52, 54–55, 61, 63–64, 72, 78–79, 80–86,

90–91, 94, 96, 101–102, 105, 115, 123, 148, 185; of Athenians, 49–51, 83, 137–138, 146, 148, 155–156, 185, 187; of Isocrates, 20, 36, 49; of other individuals, 25, 41, 44, 49–50, 110–111, 119, 121–122, 126, 131, 134, 162, 201, 203; situations involving, 23, 25, 41, 50–51, 74, 78, 83–85, 90–92, 94, 96, 99, 101–104, 110, 115, 123, 137–138, 141, 173, 185, 201, 203; as a virtue, 6, 41, 44–45, 48–52, 54, 66 Gorgias of Leontini, 14–16, 22, 73, 78, 208 health, 18, 61–62 Helen of Troy, 3, 15, 44, 48, 57, 60, 70–71, 88, 110, 122–123, 210 heortai, xii, 73–75, 89. See also City Dionysia Hephaestus, 118 Heracles, xiii, 34, 44, 47, 49, 53, 57–58, 65, 67, 70, 110, 117, 119–120, 122, 125 Heraclidae, 67, 117, 119–120, 125 Hesiod, 38, 40, 88 Hestia, 14 Homer, 38–39, 44, 52, 87–89, 121 honor, situations involving, 16, 19, 23–25, 37–38, 40, 43–44, 53–57, 60–66, 69–71, 73–74, 85–86, 89–91, 93–95, 98–100, 103–105, 107, 111–112, 114, 121, 123, 127, 129, 131, 133, 136, 148, 162, 170–171, 188. See also philotimia hosiotēs. See religious correctness hybris, 20, 48, 65, 106, 150, 153, 177 Hyperbolus of Athens, 128 immortality; of persons, 44, 61, 68, 113, 204; of reputation, 39, 50, 54–55, 57–58, 64, 113, 129, 176, 206 Ion of Chios, 77 Jason of Pherae, 33–34 Jefferson, Thomas, 206

217

g eneral index justice, 45–47; of Athenians, 1, 8, 27, 66, 68, 75, 93, 113–114, 118–121, 127–130, 138, 141–145, 147, 168, 171–172, 182, 187, 192, 194–195; of Isocrates, 20–21, 26–27, 32, 37, 42, 47, 77, 113; of other countries, 142, 157, 167, 169, 172, 175; of other individuals, 24, 30, 33, 38, 44, 47, 69, 72, 106, 111–112, 121, 146, 177, 193–194, 201; situations involving, 1, 7–8, 20–21, 26–27, 32, 38, 41–47, 51, 58–59, 63, 65, 68–70, 75, 77, 83–85, 87, 90–99, 101, 104, 106, 113–114, 118–121, 127–130, 138, 143, 145, 147, 154–155, 165, 167–169, 171–172, 182, 187, 189–192, 194–195, 199, 201; as a virtue, 6, 24, 42–49, 53, 55, 58–59, 64–66, 68–69, 85 Kerykes of Athens, 135 kings of Persia. See Artaxerxes I, king of Persia; Artaxerxes II, king of Persia; Artaxerxes III, king of Persia; Darius I, king of Persia; Darius II, king of Persia; Xerxes, king of Persia King’s Peace, 8–9, 68, 144, 163–170, 177–178, 182, 198 Korē, 70 Lacedaemon and Lacedaemonians, 56, 70, 74, 91, 117, 187; after Battle of Leuctra, 74, 155, 158–159, 172–176, 197, 203; in Corinthian War, 157, 163–164, 168; criticisms of, 8–10, 28, 31, 35, 53, 69, 71, 74, 134, 137–138, 142, 145, 156–159, 164–167, 169, 182; empire of, 25, 142, 144–145, 152, 156–166, 168–170, 172, 176–177, 182, 198; expedition against Persia, 8–9, 25–26, 203; founding of, 72, 116–117, 124–125, 145; in Peloponnesian War, xiv, 14, 27, 116, 139–140, 142–144, 147–155, 157–158, 164, 166, 168; in Persian Wars, 130–134, 181; praises of, 10, 48, 53, 58, 131–132, 137, 142, 176

Lagiscē of Athens, 17, 209 laws, 65–66, 69, 71–72, 84, 90, 92, 95–97, 104, 107–108, 112; of Athens, xiii, 86, 114, 121, 125–126, 128, 141, 152–156, 179, 181, 184, 186–187, 191, 202; making of, 23–24, 26, 84, 96, 121, 124–126, 142, 152, 155–156, 179, 184, 191; of other countries, 24, 75, 112–113, 124, 158, 174 lawsuits, 19–20, 28, 97, 104; in Athens, xi, 1, 20, 30, 47, 121, 127, 142, 144–145, 155–156, 180, 186, 190–192, 202; involving Isocrates, 14–15, 17, 20–21, 36–37, 186–187, 209; in other Greek states, 141, 162–163 Leda, 61 Lenaia, 17 Leonidas of Sparta, 131 Leuctra, battle of, 144, 156–158, 173, 185, 193, 197 Lysias of Athens, v, 14–15, 73, 208 Mantinea, battle of, 176, 197 Marathon, battle of, 116–117, 119, 128, 130–132, 167 Mardonius of Persia, 133–134 Mausolus of Caria, 15, 209 Megalopolis, 197 Megara, 198 Melissus of Samos, 78 Menelaus, 44, 47–48, 70, 121–122 mercenaries, 1, 9, 67, 92, 98, 159, 175–176, 179, 183, 193, 199, 201 Messenē and Messenians, 74, 125, 173, 175–176, 197 Miltiades of Athens, 128, 130–131, 134, 146 monarchy, xii, 27, 53, 71, 90, 97–113, 166, 172; characteristics of, 27, 50, 97–113; criticisms of, 27, 97–98, 101–104, 106–107, 109–110; of Persians, 109; praises of, 3, 50, 97–100, 110–113, 204–205. See also tyranny and tyrants Mytilenē, 74, 168

218

g eneral index Nemesis, 61 Nestor, 44, 49, 121, 125 Nicocles of Cyprian Salamis, xiii–xiv, 15, 22, 27, 29, 33, 40–41, 44, 48, 53–54, 57–58, 69, 97–109, 204 Nicocreon of Cyprian Salamis, 16, 209 oligarchy, 55, 90, 97–101, 113, 118, 129, 186; in Athens, xiv, 20, 31, 116, 126, 147–156, 184, 186; characteristics of, 55, 90, 99–101, 113, 152; criticisms of, 55, 99, 113, 148–153; in other Greek states, 145, 186; praises of, 100 Olympic Games, 73–74, 117, 208 Olynthos, 166, 196, 200 Oropos, 169 Orpheus, 67, 89 panēgyreis, xii, 24, 26, 73–75, 139–140, 188 Paris, 122–123, Parmenides of Elea, 78 Paros, 163 Peace (goddess), 193 Peace of Antalcidas. See King’s Peace Peace of Philocrates, 196–198, 200 Peitho, 72 Peloponnesian War, xiv, 14, 19, 21, 116, 139–158, 164, 166, 168, 198 Pelops of Pisa, 15, 122, 208 Perdiccas of Argos and Macedonia, 98 Pericles of Athens, 47–48, 52, 146, 193, 209–210 Persians, 9, 93, 123–125, 138, 148–149, 151, 159–160; character of, 3, 8, 53, 67, 93, 109, 159–160, 199; expedition against, 8–9, 23, 25–27, 72, 117, 126, 136, 172, 195–196, 198–199, 203–206; hatred of, 88–89, 93, 122, 135, 199. See also Artaxerxes I, king of Persia; Artaxerxes II, king of Persia; Artaxerxes III, king of Persia; Darius I, king of Persia; Darius II, king of

Persia; King’s Peace; Persian Wars; Xerxes, king of Persia Persian Wars, 8–9, 57, 67, 72, 116, 126, 130–138, 160, 181. See also Artemisium, battle of; Marathon, battle of; Plataea, battle of; Salamis, battle of; Thermopylae, battle of Philip of Macedonia, 8–9, 20, 26–27, 34–36, 48–49, 53, 56–57, 71–72, 93, 95, 122, 136, 160, 162, 178, 183, 195–206; and Athens, 32, 178, 195–198, 200–201, 203–205; expedition against Persians, 8, 26, 56–57, 72, 195–96, 198–199, 203–206; and philotimia, 35–36, 53, 56–57, 71–72, 93, 95, 199, 203–204. See also Chaeronea, battle of; Peace of Philocrates; Third Sacred War Philomelus of Athens, 29 philosophy, xii, 1, 24, 29, 49–50, 52, 61, 76–79, 82, 85–87, 101, 103, 109, 127, 148, 188–189, 191; defenses of, 34, 76–79, 82, 85–87, 188–191; of Isocrates, v, 1–3, 6–7, 14, 19, 22, 24, 28–29, 37, 39, 49, 76–80, 87, 205–207; Isocrates’ legacy, 205–206; of others, 23, 39, 75, 77–78, 98, 148, 189, 194, 201; Platonic, 3, 6–7, 207. See also education; rhetoric philotimia, 23–24, 40, 43, 45, 53–55, 57, 85–86, 95, 99, 103, 105, 130–131, 148. See also honor Phlius, 157, 166 Phocis, 196–198 Phocylides of Miletus, 88 piety. See proper respect for the gods Pindar, 89 Pisistratus of Athens, xii, 126 Plataea, battle of, 70, 116, 128, 134–135, 167, 170 Plataea and Plataeans, 68, 70, 130, 134–135, 141, 154, 166–172 Plathanē of Athens, 15–17, 208 Plato, v, 2, 6–7, 9, 14, 192, 204–205, 207 Plouton, 70

219

g eneral index 104, 107, 110, 123, 125, 131–132, 141, 148, 156, 162, 171, 175, 188–190, 195, 199, 203–204, 206; of various others, 24, 37–38, 50, 57–59, 70, 74, 89, 106–107, 113, 119, 122–123, 126, 131–132, 134, 136–139, 141, 146, 148, 162, 174, 194. See also honor; philotimia rhetoric, xii, 6, 9, 14, 16, 50, 76–87, 187; in Athens, 9, 19–20, 86, 140, 148, 187; criticisms of, 6–7, 29, 37, 81, 86–87; Isocrates and, 1, 3, 6–7, 9–10, 14, 16, 37, 50, 76, 206–207; praises of, 19–20, 83–87. See also education Rhodes, 27, 162, 178

poetry and poets, 15–16, 23–24, 37–40, 44–45, 67–68, 76, 87–89, 92, 113 Potidaea, 192, 196, 200 poverty, 45, 47, 58, 194; of Athenians, 1, 114, 127–128, 180–182, 185–186, 190; of other Greeks, 1, 123–124, 138, 171, 177, 183, 199 prayer, 18, 69–73, 86, 158 priests, 27, 62, 75, 105, 110 Prodicus of Keos, 14, 208 proper respect for the gods, xi, 66–68; of Athenians, 66, 118, 129, 170, 186; of Isocrates, 21; of other people, 17, 44, 67–68, 70, 75, 111, 120, 135; situations involving, 17, 21, 66–68, 70, 89, 93, 111, 120, 129, 135, 170; as a virtue, xi, 42, 44–47, 49, 65–68, 89, 186 Quintilian, 206 religious correctness, xi, 66, 68–69; of Athenians, 68–69, 172; of Isocrates, 21, 26, 47; of other people, 69, 72, 89, 106, 112, 189; situations involving, 21, 26, 45, 47, 68–69, 72, 89, 93, 106, 112–113, 169; as a virtue, xi, 45–46, 66, 68–69 reputation, 7, 19, 21, 37, 39, 42–43, 46–47, 50, 52–59, 64–66, 85, 91, 94, 103, 107, 126, 176, 186, 203–204; of Athenian ancestors, 1, 8–9, 50–51, 54–55, 57–59, 125–126, 129, 132, 136–139, 142, 146, 158, 171, 179, 183, 188; of Athens, 7, 55, 74, 119, 131, 147, 156, 158, 162, 169, 177, 182–183, 186, 188–190, 195; of Isocrates, 7, 18–20, 22, 24–25, 29, 33–34, 36–39, 55, 64, 204, 206; of Isocrates’ students, 7, 30–32, 55–56; of Lacedaemonians, 55, 58–59, 94, 158, 175–176; of Philip, 35–36, 53, 56–57, 71–72, 93, 199, 203–204; situations involving, 8–9, 18, 20–21, 24–25, 29, 34, 37, 39, 43, 46–47, 50, 52–59, 64, 72, 85–86, 93–94, 100,

sacrifice, 65, 69–70, 73–74, 129, 134, 170, 174, 193 Salamis, battle of, 116, 128, 133–134 Salamis on Cyprus. See Evagoras of Cyprian Salamis; Nicocles of Cyprian Salamis Samos, xiv, 14, 146, 149, 192–193 Scionē, 166, Second Athenian Confederacy, xiv, 7, 142, 178–179, 182, 192–195. see also Social War Seriphos, 163 Sestos, 192–193 Sicilian Expedition, 140, 143, 147–150, 210 Siphnos, 162–163 Six Thousand, 67, 159–160. See also Cunaxa, battle of slaves: actual, 3, 13–15, 63, 69, 74, 80, 94, 109, 122, 127, 141–142, 145, 147, 154, 158, 166, 168, 170, 180, 183, 189; metaphorical, 8, 15, 60, 67, 89, 96, 105, 109, 112, 118–119, 121–122, 126, 131, 133, 135, 137–138, 141, 145, 147, 150, 152–155, 160, 162, 165–169, 186, 198, 208 Social War, xiv, 7, 27, 178, 181–186, 192, 196 Socrates, v, 30, 76, 207

220

g eneral index Solon of Athens, xiii, 8, 83, 116, 125–126, 146, 179, 191 sophists, xii, 14, 22, 25–26, 31, 37–39, 48, 52, 77–78, 81, 85, 126, 189, 191 Sophocles, 17 sophrosynē, xi, 47–49; of Athenians, 1, 48, 54, 75, 77, 120, 127, 138, 158, 180, 188; of others, 31–33, 48, 62, 75, 84, 100, 105–107, 111, 120–121, 146, 158, 193; situations involving, 19, 48, 67, 75, 77, 84, 89, 91, 100–101, 105–109, 120, 127, 138–139, 158, 180, 185, 188, 190–191; as a virtue, xi, 24, 31–33, 43–49, 53, 55, 58, 66, 105 Sparta and Spartans. see Lacedaemon and Lacedaemonians students, 24, 50, 148, 187, 190; course of study, 6, 9, 15, 29, 77–82; of Isocrates, xiv, 2, 6–7, 9, 14–16, 26, 28–34, 37–39, 55, 65, 77, 109, 192, 202, 204–205, 208; prerequisites for, 30–31, 49, 79, 81. See also education sycophants, xii, 1, 8, 14, 20–21, 28, 30, 185–186, 188, 190–192 Syracuse, 172–173 Tanagra, 167 Tantalus, 15, 65, 70 Telesippus of Athens, 14 Teucer, 44, 121 Thebes and Thebans, 53, 87, 89, 94, 122, 166–173, 176, 178, 185, 196–198, 202–203, 208; and Athens, 53, 154, 157, 166–172, 178–179, 185, 198, 203; in Corinthian War, 163–164, 168; denial of burial to Argives, 67, 87, 119–120, 171; and King’s Peace, 68, 163, 166–170; and Lacedaemonians, 144, 157–158, 163–164, 166–170, 172–173, 176, 185, 197, 203; in Persian Wars, 134, 167, 170; and Plataea, 68, 166–172; in Third Sacred War, 196–198. See also Cadmus of Thebes; Chaeronea, battle

of; Epaminondas of Thebes; Leuctra, battle of; Mantinea, battle of; Plataea, battle of Themistocles of Athens, 128, 133–134, 146 Theodorus of Athens, brother of Isocrates, 16, 207 Theodorus of Athens, father of Isocrates, 13–14, 16–17 Theognis of Megara, 40, 88 Theopompus of Chios, xiv, 15, 205, 208 Theramenes of Athens, 14, 208 Thermopylae, battle of, 131–132 Theseus of Athens, 44, 47–50, 53, 57–58, 67, 115, 117–122, 210 Thespiae, 167 Thessaly and Thessalians, 33–34, 133, 196–198, 200–201 Third Sacred War, 196–198 Thirty Tyrants, xii, xiv, 14, 54, 116, 148–149, 152–155, 180, 185 Thrasybulus of Athens, 156 Timotheus of Athens, xiv, 14, 16, 29, 93, 192–195, 208–209 Timotheus of Heracleia Pontica, xiv, 29–30, 36, 48, 109 Tisias of Syracuse, 14, 208 Tissaphernes of Persia, 151, 160 Toronē, 192 tragedy, 15, 17, 69, 87–88, 118–119 trierarchy, xii, 14–15, 17, 36, 147–148, 182, 187 Troizen, 163 Trojan War, 44–45, 57, 88–89, 116, 121–123 Tyndareus of Sparta, 125 tyranny and tyrants, xii, 29, 71, 91, 97–98, 114, 130, 143–144, 150; in Athens, xii, xiv, 14, 54, 116, 125–126, 143, 148–150, 152–155, 179–180, 185; elsewhere, 157, 165–166. See also Clearchus of Sparta; Dionysius I of Sicily; Dionysius II of Sicily; Jason of Pherae; Pisistratus of Athens; Thirty Tyrants; Timotheus of Heracleia Pontica

221

g eneral index virtue and virtues, 1, 22, 24, 41–56, 58–62, 64–66, 69–70, 80, 83, 85, 87, 91, 95, 104–110, 189, 204; of Athenian ancestors, 17, 26, 44, 58, 72, 117–118, 120, 127–129, 131–133, 167, 170, 180–181, 185; and education, 1, 41, 43–45, 48, 80, 83, 85, 89, 108, 127, 181, 189; of Heracles, 44, 47, 58, 65, 70; of Homeric heroes, 38, 44–45, 47, 89, 117, 121–122; and immortality, 44, 61, 113, 204; Isocrates’ claims to, 27, 42, 55; of Lacedaemonians, 74, 132, 156, 164, 175–176; in Plato versus Isocrates, 6, 24, 42; and reputation, 43, 46, 55–56, 58–60, 64, 85, 106–107, 185; of Theseus, 44, 47, 50, 58, 117, 119–120, 122; of various others, 30, 43–44, 47, 50, 59, 106–107, 109–110, 113, 161. See also beauty; courage; good thinking; justice; proper respect for the gods; sophrosyne; wisdom

wealth, 7, 21–22, 41–42, 45–47, 50, 56–60, 64, 71–72, 74–75, 91, 98, 103, 105, 107–110, 126–128, 137–139, 142–143, 145–146, 148, 153–154, 157, 190–192; of Isocrates, 6, 14–16, 19, 21–22, 29, 37, 72; and justice, 45–47, 58–59, 64, 75, 143, 154; and reputation, 7, 42, 56–59, 126, 148 wisdom, 52; of various individuals, 27, 39, 52, 87, 111, 146, 184–185, 188, 191, 193; as a virtue, 6, 44, 49, 52, 66, 78 xenia and xenoi, xii, 69, 118, 139, 163, 182 Xerxes, king of Persia, 131–133, 136–138 Zeus, 17, 60–61, 65, 70–71, 100, 121, 123, 162, 209

222

i nde x l o corum of Iso c rat e an Pas s ag e s

N.B.: Section numerals refer to the enumeration of texts given on pp. ix–x. 1. To Demonicus, x, 10–11, 40–41, 206–207 1:64 1–2:63 2:64, 78 3–4:29 4:64 5:42, 56 6:58, 61 7:42, 56 8:57–58 9:59 13:66 14:61, 71 15:63–64 16:65 19:41, 52, 60 20:64 21:58 22:64 23:59 24–26:62

27:64 28:59 29:64 29–30:46 31:63–64 32:64 33:63 35:61, 63 36:107, 113 37:59 38:44, 57–58, 64 38–39:45–46, 58–59 40:49, 61 41:63 43:52, 58, 64 46:48 46–47:47–48 48:64 50:65, 70 51:87

2. To Nicocles, 15, 25, 27–28, 40–41, 97, 100–101, 206 7:89 4:102 8:53–54 4–5:103 9–11:101 5:71 11:105 6:75

index l o corum of Iso c rat ean Passag e s 30:43, 54 31:105 32:57–58, 64, 104 34:105 35:77, 101, 115 36:52–53, 106 36–37:105 37:57 39:52 40–41:40–41 42–44:88 45–47:41 48–49:88 49:71 50:101–102 53:102

12:50 13:87 14:49, 105 15:104 15–16:101–102 17:97, 105 17–19:104 20:65–66 21:104–105 22:104 23:53–54, 104 24:101–102 25:65 26–27:101–102 28–29:102 29:105 29–30:105 3. Nicocles, 3, 40–41, 97, 206 1–2:87 2:42, 46, 65–66 7:51, 96 9:76 10:99 12:98 13:69 14–22:99–100 16:49, 53 18:55 21:50 25:99–100 26:100 29–30:45, 58 30:58 31–35:106 32:53–54, 69 36:48, 106–107 36–40:48

37:58 37–38:99–100, 106–107 39–40:106–107 40:54 41:101, 106 42:71, 107 43:43, 46, 53, 58 44:43 44–45:106 45:48, 106–107 46:54 47:42 47–59:107–109 50:43, 58–59 55:53 57:43 59:42, 60 62–63:107–109

4. Panegyricus, 8–9, 14–15, 25–27, 117, 195 1–2:73–74 2:61 3:36

3–4:25 9:115 12:25

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index l o corum of Iso c rat ean Passag e s 83:54, 119, 126 83–84:58 84:57, 71–72 85:54–55 85–87:130–131 88–91:132 92:132 93–98:133–134 95:58, 135 96:67 99:136 100–109:140–141 102:53 107:49 109:166 113–114:142 115–27:165–166 118–20:138 145–146:53 145–149:159–160 147:67 150–151:109 155–156:67 155–157:135 158–159:88–89 159:44–45 164–155:136 167–168:92–93 176:96 183–184:93 186:57

14:25, 36 23:117 24:117–118 25:117 26:118 26–27:117 27–34:118–119 28:71 33:66 34–40:123–124 38–40:72 41–46:139–140 43–44:73 44:54 45:73 46:73 47:77 47–50:148 48:49, 51, 64 48–49:53 51:54 52–61:119 67–70:119 72:137 75:44 76:55, 57, 59, 210 76–77:126 76–79:128 77:58, 128 80–81:130 81:48, 54 5. To Philip, 9, 15, 34–35, 196–200 1:34–35 7:48 9:195 10:34–35 11–13:26 17–18:34–35 18:49 20–21:196–197 27–28:28, 34–35 33:22

42:95 43:166 44:198 47–49:158–159 49–56:197–198 58–60:151–152 62–64:162 65:172–173 68:57 71:56–57

225

index l o corum of Iso c rat ean Passag e s 116:53 116–117:53 117:69 120–126:199–200 129:27, 119 132:44 134–136:56–57, 200 135:64 137:71 138:199 139:200 140:57 143:71 144:44, 122 144–145:122 145:57, 71 148:132 149:34–35, 57 149–152:72 153:34–35, 57

73–75:196–197 79–80:56–57 81–82:20 82:22, 49 84:26 85:34–35 86:49 86–88:177 89:49 90–95:160 91:67 93–94:26 96:200 97:159 99–102:198–199 106:54 106–108:98 109:53 110:34–35, 47, 49 111–112:122–123 6. Archidamus, xiii, 3, 93–95, 173–176 3–5:94 4:50 9–10:173–174 12:58 13:173–174 16–33:125 19:49 27:125 34:49 34–36:94–95 35:45, 54 36:42 38:94–95 39:96 42–43:136–137 49–50:94 51:96 59:48, 70

61:173–174 62–63:174–176 64–69:173–174 72–79:174–176 82:125 83:137 88–89:94 89–94:58 92:92 95:58 95–96:74 99–100:132 102:44, 65 104:94 107:58 107–109:174–176 109:55, 58

7. Areopagiticus, 8, 15, 178–181 1–3:178–179 3–6:91

4:48, 59 7:48

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index l o corum of Iso c rat ean Passag e s 48–49:127 51:127 51–52:138 52–53:75 54:49, 179, 181 55:127 57:125–126 60:113 62:113 64–67:152 65–69:154–155 67:53–54 69:152 70:113 72:65 73:152 73–76:179–181 74:53 75:119, 136 78:91 80:138 81–84:179–181 83:127–128

8–10:178–179 11:91 13:91 14:90 15–20:179–181 16:125–126 17:138 20:48, 53 20–27:129 21:114 24–25:127 27:114 29–30:129–130 30:66 31:49 31–35:127–128 37:48 37–39:127 40:44 41:97 44–45:127 46:127 46–47:97 47–51:179–181

8. On the Peace, 7–8, 25, 27, 142–144, 156–158, 178, 181–186 2:92 32:42 5:186 33–35:66 6:182 34:66 7:59 35:45, 49, 51, 70 8:51 36:45 9–10:186 39:22, 36 12:182 39–40:61 13:49, 186 41:54 14:89 42:138, 185 16:164–165 44–60:183–185 17:185 47:137 19:177 49–50:118 19–25:182–183 52:52 22:196 55:52 26:45 58:48 28:51 63:48–49, 66 30:138, 142 64–70:181–182 31–34:46–47 69:113

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index l o corum of Iso c rat ean Passag e s 98:159 103–104:142 104:48 105:144 106:41 108:142, 152, 154 109:41 111–113:97–98 119:48 120:68 121–135:185–186 126:146 127:71 135:66 141:34, 58 145:34

74:125, 137, 182 75:127–128 76:136 77–79:142 78:139 81–93:142–144 82:142 82–83:75 89–90:114 90:54, 128–129 91:91 92:154 93:54, 59, 142 93–94:58 94:57, 129 94–105:156–158 9. Evagoras, 8, 44, 111–113 2:62 3:54 5:45, 54 7:49 9–11:88 13:70–71 14–15:70 17:44 17–18:121 22:48 22–23:111 23:44, 47, 52 25–26:69, 72 26:47 31:44 33:44 38:44, 47, 69 38–39:67 40:97 41:49–50

41–51:111–113 43:47 49:53 51–52:69 52–57:161–162 58:160 62:44 65:44, 49–50, 123 67:53 67–68:162 70:44, 113 71–73:33 71–72:111–113 73–75:24–25 74:39, 54 76:44 78:98 80:101 81:44

10. Encomium of Helen, 15 1:52 2:54 10:49 16:70

17:57 18–21:210 18–38:120 21:44, 52

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index l o corum of Iso c rat ean Passag e s 49:121 51:122 54:43, 52, 60 54–60:60–61 61:71 63:70 65:88 67–68:121 68:122

23–25:120 25–29:210 31:44, 48, 53, 67, 119–120 32–34:118 35:119 36–37:120 37:53 38:48 41–44:123 48:71 11. Busiris, 8, 110–111 6:53 13:71–72 15:49 15–16:110–111 20:110–111 21–24:75 22:62

23:80 24:52 24–25:68 38–40:67–68, 89 41:69, 71 45:46

12. Panathenaicus, 8, 15, 18, 28–32, 35, 202 1–2:28 2–3:28 5:21, 38 6:38 7–8:18 8:35–36, 64 9–11:18–19 11–12:37–38 11–14:28 12:22 16–17:38 17–22:38–39 21:37 23:38 25:38–39 26–29:79–80 28:49–50 30–32:41, 83 34:89 39–40:92 41:71 42:122 49:132

229

50–52:134 54:138 55:28, 35 56:53, 92, 139, 210 57–58:146 59:138 60–61:138 63–70:144–145 71:46, 64 71–72:44, 49 72:47–49, 121 72–83:122 75:38 78:38 81:49, 55 82:50 86:21, 47 87:30 88:28, 35 89:44, 145 92–93:134–135 94:166 95:35, 53

index l o corum of Iso c rat ean Passag e s 170:69 174:71 181:69 182–184:69 183:66 185:65 185–186:95 187:45, 68–69 190:124–125 193–196:119 195:130 196:50, 53 196–197:138 197:48, 202 198:53 200–202:31 203–228:31 204:45, 49, 66 205:44 214:49 217:53, 66 219–220:43 220:69 221–224:43 228:52 229:31 230:49 230–233:28 232:35 234–265:32 235:50 242:95 244:72 248:65 254:72 256:54 258:53 260:39 261:39 263:26, 39 267–270:35 271:26, 29

97–99:145 102:135 104:159 105–107:164 110–112:64 111:48 112:49 114–116:139 115:48 115–116:91 117–118:147 118:52 119–24:118 121:51, 53 121–123:69 123:44 124:66, 117–118 124–126:118 125:72 125–130:119–120 127:44, 49 127–128:50 130:44, 120–121, 202 132–133:90–91 136:22, 49 138:48, 90 138–148:120–121, 202 143:49–50 148:126 149–150:115 151:48–50 156:137 157–158:138 159–162:202 161:49 163:67, 93, 130 163–168:202 164:49, 123 165–168:124–125 168:87 168–174:119 169:71

230

index l o corum of Iso c rat ean Passag e s 13. Against the Sophists 2:87 7:52

14:49 21:29, 45, 48, 78

14. Plataicus:3, 167–172 1–2:68, 171–172 7–9:167–168 10:169 17:53, 168–169 18–19:169–170 20:92 22–23:68 23:49, 96 24–25:168–169 25:92 27–29:168

31–32:154, 168 35–38:169–170 39:68, 93, 169 43:169 46–50:170–171 51–53:171 53:54 55:170–171 58–60:169–170 60:70 61–62:167–168

15. Antidosis, 14–15, 18, 30, 34, 36–37, 76, 186–191, 208 67:42, 47 4:34, 36–37 67–72:27 5:22, 29 70:53–54, 101 5–7:36 71:75, 101, 105 9–11:34 72:49, 51, 105 20:53 76–77:26 20–24:190–191 78:25 26:34 79:96 26–28:209 80–84:24 27:47 27–28:20 81:49 30:29 84:42, 48 30–31:22, 30 87–88:29–30 31:29 93–94:29 38:209 94–100:30 39:30 99:30 39–40:22 106–133:192–195 40–42:208 111:47–48, 56, 146 41:29 117:49, 93 41–42:30 122:93 45–50:23–24, 37 133:37 47:52 141:36–37, 54 57–61:25–26 142–143:190–191 59:34 144:21, 30, 208 63–65:27 146:22

231

index l o corum of Iso c rat ean Passag e s 227–228:19–20 229:48 231:83 231–232:126 232:126 233:134 234:146 237:191 237–238:20 241:30 241–242:191 244:54 244–248:86–87 246:72 249:72 250:82–83 251:34 251–252:59–60 253–257:83–84 255:50 261–265:80 266–271:77–78 270–271:52 271:49 272:34 274:45, 48 274–275:210 274–280:85 275:54 277:54 278–280:58 280:49, 55 281:42–43 282:65 283–288:188–190 284:46, 68 285:77 289–290:31 291–294:86 293–305:187–188 294:51 300:53 301–302:74

150:208 151:19, 37 152:22 153:21, 37 154:22 155–158:22 158:22 159–160:21 161:21 161–162:19 162–163:37 164:20–21 164–165:22 165:30, 49, 72 166:89 168:37 170:39 170–172:188–190 174:78 175:78 176:34 178:76 180–186:78–79 181–182:50 182:49 187–190:31 189–192:84–85 190:48 190–192:18–19 193:29 195:76–77 197:50 197–212:81–82 200:52 204:31 207:51 209:50–51 211:49 214:53 217:40 220:31, 49 224:29–30 226:49, 54

232

index l o corum of Iso c rat ean Passag e s 312–315:190–191 313:126 316–319:146–147 321:47 321–322:21, 70

304:77 306–308:126, 131, 146 307–308:134 308:49, 51 312:52 16. On the Team of Horses, 74, 149–151 5–9:149–150 12–14:153 16–22:150–151 23:64–65 25–27:126 27:53, 131, 138 28:47–48, 146

32–34:74 33:64 34:74 37:150, 153 39:90 40:153 46:155

18. Against Callimachus, 147–148, 155–156, 192 2–3:155 9–14:192 16–17:153 20–23:156 25:155 27–28:96

31–32:156 42–44:155–156 59–63:147–148 61:54 62:114 68:156

19. Aegineticus, 162–163 16:47 20. Against Lochites 4:152–153 6:47, 67 10-ll:152–153

19–20:47 20:114

21. Against Euthynus, 153–154 1–4:153–154 5–8:191–192 6:47

7:153–154 11–15:153–154 17:47

Letters 1. To Dionysius, 172 1:33 5:54 6:73

7–8:172

233

index l o corum of Iso c rat ean Passag e s 2. To Philip 1, 200–201 3:53 4–5:95 7:135 8:160 9:53, 55 10:44, 56, 58, 64

11:57, 93 16–21:200–201 19:185 21:57 22:49 22–23:36

3. To Philip 2, x, 203–205, 208 4:36

4–5:56

4. To Antipater, 32–33, 201–202 2:48 5–6:102–103

9:62, 65, 202 12:202

5. To Alexander, 201 1:36 2:201 3–4:80

4:83 5:49

6. To the Children of Jason, 33–34 1–2:33–34 4:34 6:34

8:87 9–14:103–104

7. To Timotheus of Heracleia Pontica, 29, 109–110 8–9:110 3:48 10:36 3–5:109–110 12:53 4:49 12–13:30 7:42, 58 8. To the Rulers of Mytilene 3:156 5:62, 74 6:91

7:20 10:20

9. To Archidamus, xiii, 29, 176–177 4:48–49 4–5:176 7–8:23

8–14:176–177 15:55 15–17:23

Fragments 26:65

33:62

234