Macedonia.[2] The new King was only twenty years old. It seemed as if his father had been cut off at the height of his career, and that his death could mean nothing but disaster to the power of Macedonia. But what seems like a tragedy and the failure of human hopes, is sometimes the door through which an individual or a nation passes to greater things. Philip had done {335} his work. He was a great soldier and had made great conquests, but he inspired no love and he lacked the imagination which would have made him see with the eyes of the conquered, and so rule them that they would have become real parts of a mighty whole. His son was young, but he had this gift, and so the tragedy of his father's death was the beginning of new and greater opportunities for him, and the door through which Greece was to pass from the old order into the new. II. DEMOSTHENES Though forced to acknowledge the political supremacy of Philip, Athens had never given him the real homage he so greatly desired, that of the spirit. And that she persisted in her refusal was largely due to the orator Demosthenes. Politically, Athens was now weak, and her constant wars were a great strain on all her resources. But at this time, most of her fighting was done at a distance from Athens and by hired mercenaries. A great change had come over her since the days of Marathon and Salamis. No longer was it the pride of the Athenians that her citizens themselves defended her, and though the young men liked to boast that their forefathers had fought at Marathon, they preferred a more pleasure-loving life than was possible in a camp, and so they paid other men to go out and fight for them. Demosthenes fought against this spirit, and when Philip made advances to Athens and tried to {336} conclude an alliance with her, Demosthenes made speech after speech against such a policy, imploring the people not to make terms with the stranger, but to make ready for war, and to give their own lives on the battle-field instead of paying others to die for them. Demosthenes had been a delicate child, very shy and with a stammer in his speech. He grew up, however, with a passion for oratory, and he would go to hear the noted orators of his time and listen to every word they said, going home afterwards to practise the art of speaking himself. The first time he spoke in public, he met with discouragement, for his style was awkward, his voice weak and he stammered. He determined, however, that he would overcome all these obstacles, and he built himself a place to study in underground, and hither he would come constantly every day to form his action, and to exercise his voice; and here he would continue, oftentimes without intermission, two or three months together, shaving one half of his head, that so for shame he might not go abroad, though he desired it ever so much.[3]