PREFACE
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The translations included in this volume were written at various times during
the last ten years for use in connexion with College Lectures, and a long
holiday, for which I have to thank the Trustees of the Balliol College Endowment
Fund, as well as the Master and Fellows of Balliol College, has enabled me to
revise them and to furnish them with brief introductions and notes. Only those
speeches are included which are generally admitted to be the work of
Demosthenes, and the spurious documents contained in the MSS. of the Speech on
the Crown are omitted. The speeches are arranged in chronological order, and the
several introductions to them are intended to supply an outline of the history
of the period, sufficient to provide a proper setting for the speeches, but not
more detailed than was necessary for this purpose. No discussion of conflicting
evidence has been introduced, and the views which are expressed on the character
and work of Demosthenes must necessarily seem somewhat dogmatic, when given
without the reasons for them. I hope, however, before long to treat the life of
Demosthenes more fully in another form. The estimate here given of his character
as a politician falls midway between the extreme views of Grote and Schaefer on
the one hand, and Beloch and Holm on the other.
I have tried to render the speeches into such English as a political orator of
the present day might use, without attempting to impart to them any antique
colouring, such as the best-known English translations either had from the first
or have acquired by lapse of time. It is of the essence of political oratory
that it is addressed to contemporaries, and the translation of it should
therefore be into contemporary English; though the necessity of retaining some
of the modes of expression which are peculiar to Greek oratory and political
life makes it impossible to produce completely the appearance of an English
orator's work. The qualities of Demosthenes' eloquence sometimes suggest rather
the oratory of the pulpit than that of the hustings or that of Parliament and of
the law-courts. I cannot hope to have wholly succeeded in my task; but it seemed
to be worth undertaking, and I hope that the work will not prove to have been
altogether useless.
I have made very little use of other translations; but I must acknowledge a debt
to Lord Brougham's version of the Speeches on the Chersonese and on the Crown,
which, though often defective from the point of view of scholarship and based on
faulty texts, are (together with his notes) very inspiring. I have also, at one
time or another, consulted most of the standard German, French, and English
editions of Demosthenes. I cannot now distinguish how much I owe to each; but I
am conscious of a special debt to the editions of the late Professor Henri Weil,
and of Sir J.E. Sandys, and (in the Speech on the Crown) to that of Professor
W.W. Goodwin. I also owe a few phrases in the earliest speeches to Professor
W.R. Hardie, whose lectures on Demosthenes I attended twenty years ago. My
special thanks are due to my friend Mr. P.E. Matheson of New College, for his
kindness in reading the proof-sheets, and making a number of suggestions, which
have been of great assistance to me.
The text employed has been throughout that of the late Mr. S.H. Butcher in the
_Bibliotheca Classica Oxoniensis_. Any deviations from this are noted in their
place.
INTRODUCTION
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Demosthenes, the son of Demosthenes of Paeania in Attica, a rich and highly
respected factory-owner, was born in or about the year 384 B.C. He was early
left an orphan; his guardians mismanaged his property for their own advantage;
and although, soon after coming of age in 366, he took proceedings against them
and was victorious in the law-courts, he appears to have recovered comparatively
little from them. In preparing for these proceedings he had the assistance of
Isaeus, a teacher and writer of speeches who was remarkable for his knowledge of
law, his complete mastery of all the aspects of any case with which he had to
do, and his skill in dealing with questions of ownership and inheritance.
Demosthenes' speeches against his guardians show plainly the influence of
Isaeus, and the teacher may have developed in his pupil the thoroughness and the
ingenuity in handling legal arguments which afterwards became characteristic of
his work.
Apart from this litigation with his guardians, we know little of Demosthenes'
youth and early manhood. Various stories have come down to us (for the most part
not on the best authority), of his having been inspired to aim at an orator's
career by the eloquence and fame of Callistratus; of his having overcome serious
physical defects by assiduous practice; of his having failed, nevertheless,
owing to imperfections of delivery, in his early appearances before the people,
and having been enabled to remedy these by the instruction of the celebrated
actor Satyrus; and of his close study of the _History_ of Thucydides. Upon the
latter point the evidence of his early style leaves no room for doubt, and the
same studies may have contributed to the skill and impressiveness with which, in
nearly every oration, he appeals to the events of the past, and sums up the
lessons of history. Whether he came personally under the influence either of
Plato, the philosopher, or of Isocrates, the greatest rhetorical teacher of his
time, and a political pamphleteer of high principles but little practical
insight, is much more doubtful. The two men were almost as different in
temperament and aims as it was possible to be, but Demosthenes' familiarity with
the published speeches of Isocrates, and with the rhetorical principles which
Isocrates taught and followed, can scarcely be questioned.
In the early years of his manhood, Demosthenes undertook the composition of
speeches for others who were engaged in litigation. This task required not only
a very thorough knowledge of law, but the power of assuming, as it were, the
character of each separate client, and writing in a tone appropriate to it; and,
not less, the ability to interest and to rouse the active sympathy of juries,
with whom feeling was perhaps as influential as legal justification. This part,
however, of Demosthenes' career only concerns us here in so far as it was an
admirable training for his later work in the larger sphere of politics, in which
the same qualities of adaptability and of power both to argue cogently and to
appeal to the emotions effectively were required in an even higher degree.
At the time when Demosthenes' interest in public affairs was beginning to take
an active form, Athens was suffering from the recent loss of some of her most
powerful allies. In the year 358 B.C. she had counted within the sphere of her
influence not only the islands of Lemnos, Imbros, and Scyros (which had been
guaranteed to her by the Peace of Antalcidas in 387), but also the chief cities
of Euboea, the islands of Chios, Cos, Rhodes, and Samos, Mytilene in Lesbos, the
towns of the Chersonese, Byzantium (a city of the greatest commercial
importance), and a number of stations on the south coast of Thrace, as well as
Pydna, Potidaea, Methone, and the greater part of the country bordering upon the
Thermaic Gulf. But her failure to observe the terms of alliance, laid down when
the new league was founded in 378, had led to a revolt, which ended in 355 or
354 in the loss to her of Chios, Cos, Rhodes, and Byzantium, and of some of the
ablest of her own commanders, and left her treasury almost empty. About the same
time Mytilene and Corcyra also took the opportunity to break with her. Moreover,
her position in the Thermaic region was threatened first by Olynthus, at the
head of the Chalcidic League, which included over thirty towns; and secondly by
Philip, the newly-established King of Macedonia, who seemed likely to displace
both Olynthus and Athens from their positions of commanding influence.[1]
Nevertheless, Athens, though unable to face a strong combination, was probably
the most powerful single state in Greece. In her equipment and capacity for
naval warfare she had no rival, and certainly no other state could vie with her
in commercial activity and prosperity. The power of Sparta in the Peloponnese
had declined greatly. The establishment of Megalopolis as the centre of a
confederacy of Arcadian tribes, and of Messene as an independent city commanding
a region once entirely subject to Sparta, had seriously weakened her position;
while at the same time her ambition to recover her supremacy kept alive a
feeling of unrest throughout the Peloponnese. Of the other states of South
Greece, Argos was hostile to Sparta, Elis to the Arcadians; Corinth and other
less important cities were not definitely attached to any alliance, but were not
powerful enough to carry out any serious movement alone. In North Greece,
Thebes, though she lacked great leaders, was still a great power, whose
authority throughout Boeotia had been strengthened by the complete or partial
annihilation of Platacae, Thespiae, Orchomenus,[2] and Coroneia. In Athens the
ill feeling against Thebes was strong, owing to the occupation by the Thebans of
Oropus,[2] a frontier town which Athens claimed, and their treatment of the
towns just mentioned, towards which the Athenians were kindly disposed. The
Phocians, who had until recently been unwilling allies of Thebes, were now
hostile and not insignificant neighbours, and about this time entered into
relations with both Sparta and Athens. The subject of contention was the
possession or control of the Temple of Apollo at Delphi, which the Phocians had
recently taken by force from the Delphians, who were supported by Thebes; and in
the 'Sacred War' to which this act (which was considered to be sacrilege) gave
rise in 355 B.C., the Thebans and Locrians fought against the Phocians in the
name of the Amphictyonic Council, a body (composed of representatives of tribes
and states of very unequal importance[3]) to which the control of the temple
traditionally belonged. Thessaly appears to have been at this time more or less
under Theban influence, but was immediately dominated by the tyrants of Pherae,
though the several cities seem each to have possessed a nominally independent
government. The Greek peoples were disunited in fact and unfitted for union by
temperament. The twofold desire, felt by almost all the more advanced Greek
peoples, for independence on the one hand, and for 'hegemony' or leadership
among other peoples, on the other, rendered any effective combination
impossible, and made the relations of states to one another uncertain and
inconstant. While each people paid respect to the spirit of autonomy, when their
own autonomy was in question, they were ready to violate it without scruple when
they saw their way to securing a predominant position among their neighbours;
and although the ideal of Panhellenic unity had been put before Greece by
Gorgias and Isocrates, its realization did not go further than the formation of
leagues of an unstable character, each subject, as a rule, to the more or less
tyrannical domination of some one member.
Probably the power which was most generally feared in the Greek world was that
of the King of Persia. Several times in recent years (and particularly in 387
and 367) he had been requested to make and enforce a general settlement of
Hellenic affairs. The settlement of 387 (called the King's Peace, or the Peace
of Antalcidas, after the Spartan officer who negotiated it) had ordained the
independence of the Greek cities, small and great, with the exception of those
in Asia Minor, which were to form part of the Persian Empire, and of Lemnos,
Imbros, and Scyros, which were to belong to Athens as before. The attempt to
give effect to the arrangement negotiated in 367 failed, and the terms of the
Peace of Antalcidas, though it was still appealed to, when convenient, as a
charter of liberty, also came to be disregarded. But there was always a sense of
the possibility or the danger of provoking the great king to exert his strength,
or at least to use his wealth, to the detriment of some or all of the Greek
states; though at the moment of which we are speaking (about 355) the Persian
Empire itself was suffering from recent disorders and revolutions, and the king
had little leisure for interfering in the affairs of Greece.
It was to the department of foreign and inter-Hellenic affairs that Demosthenes
principally devoted himself. His earliest political speeches, however, were
composed and delivered in furtherance of prosecutions for the crime of proposing
illegal legislation. These were the speeches against Androtion (spoken by
Diodorus in 355) and against Leptines (in 354). Both these were written to
denounce measures which Demosthenes regarded as dishonest or unworthy of
Athenian traditions. In the former he displays that desire for clean-handed
administration which is so prominent in some of his later speeches; and in the
prosecution of Leptines he shows his anxiety that Athens should retain her
reputation for good faith. Both speeches, like those of the year 352 against
Timocrates (spoken by Diodorus), and against Aristocrates (spoken by Euthycles),
are remarkable for thoroughness of argument and for the skill which is displayed
in handling legal and political questions, though, like almost all Athenian
forensic orations, they are sometimes sophistical in argument.
The first speech which is directly devoted to questions of external policy is
that on the Naval Boards in 354; and this is followed within the next two years
by speeches delivered in support of appeals made to Athens by the people of
Megalopolis and by the exiled democratic party of Rhodes. From these speeches it
appears that the general lines of Demosthenes' policy were already determined.
He was in opposition to Eubulus, who, after the disastrous termination of the
war with the allies, had become the leading statesman in Athens. The strength of
Eubulus lay in his freedom from all illusion as to the position in which Athens
stood, in his ability as a financier, and in his readiness to take any measures
which would enable him to carry out his policy. He saw that the prime necessity
of the moment was to recruit the financial and material strength of the city;
that until this should be effected, she was quite incapable of carrying on war
with any other power; and that she could only recover her strength through
peace. In this policy he had the support of the well-to-do classes, who suffered
heavily in time of war from taxation and the disturbance of trade. On the other
hand, the sentiments of the masses were imperialistic and militant. We gather
that there were plenty of orators who made a practice of appealing to the
glorious traditions of the past and the claim always made by Athens to
leadership among the Greek states. To buy off the opposition which his policy
might be expected to encounter, Eubulus distributed funds freely to the people,
in the shape of 'Festival-money', adopting the methods employed before him by
demagogues, very different from himself, in order that he might override the
real sentiments of the democracy; and in spite of the large amounts thus spent
he did in fact succeed, in the course of a few years, in collecting a
considerable sum without resorting to extraordinary taxation, in greatly
increasing the navy and in enlarging the dockyards. For the success of this
policy it was absolutely necessary to avoid all entanglement in war, except
under the strongest compulsion. The appeals of the Megalopolitans and the
Rhodians, to yield to which would probably have meant war with Sparta and with
Persia, must be rejected. Even in dealing with Philip, who was making himself
master of the Athenian allies on the Thermaic coast, the fact of the weakness of
Athens must be recognized, and all idea of a great expedition against Philip
must be abandoned for the present. At the same time, some necessary measures of
precaution were not neglected. It was essential to secure the route to the
Euxine, over which the Athenian corn-trade passed, if corn was not to be sold at
famine prices. For this purpose, therefore, alliance was made with the Thracian
prince, Cersobleptes; and when Philip threatened Heraeon Teichos on the
Propontis, an expedition was prepared, and was only abandoned because Philip
himself was forced to desist from his attempt by illness. Similarly, when Philip
appeared likely to cross the Pass of Thermopylae in 352, an Athenian force was
sent (on the proposal of Diophantus, a supporter of Eubulus) to prevent him. The
failure of Eubulus and his party to give effective aid to Olynthus against
Philip was due to the more pressing necessity of attempting to recover control
of Euboea: it had clearly been their intention to save Olynthus, if possible.
But when this had proved impossible, and the attempt to form a Hellenic league
against Philip had also failed, facts had once more to be recognized; and, since
Athens was now virtually isolated, peace must be made with Philip on the only
terms which he would accept--that each side should keep what it _de facto_
possessed at the time.
Demosthenes was generally in opposition to Eubulus and his party, of which
Aeschines (once an actor and afterwards a clerk, but a man of education and
great natural gifts) was one of the ablest members. Demosthenes was inspired by
the traditions of the past, but had a much less vague conception of the moral to
be drawn from them than had the multitude. Athens, for him as for them, was to
be the first state in Hellas; she was above all to be the protectress of
democracy everywhere, against both absolutism and oligarchy, and the leader of
the Hellenes in resistance to foreign aggression. But, unlike the multitude,
Demosthenes saw that this policy required the greatest personal effort and
readiness for sacrifice on the part of every individual; and he devotes his
utmost energies to the task of arousing his countrymen to the necessary pitch of
enthusiasm, and of effecting such reforms in administration and finance as, in
his opinion, would make the realization of his ideal for Athens possible. In the
speeches for the Megalopolitans and the Rhodians, the nature of this ideal is
already becoming clear both in its Athenian and in its Panhellenic aspects. But
so soon as it appeared that Philip, at the head of the half-barbarian
Macedonians, and not Athens, was likely to become the predominant power in the
Hellenic world, it was against Philip that all his efforts were directed; and
although in 346 he is practically at one with the party of Eubulus in his
recognition of the necessity of peace, he is eager, when the opportunity seems
once more to offer itself, to resume the conflict, and, when it is resumed, to
carry it through to the end.
We have then before us the sharp antagonism of two types of statesmanship. The
strength of the one lies in the recognition of actual facts, and the avoidance
of all projects which seem likely, under existing circumstances, to fail. The
other is of a more sanguine type, and believes in the power of enthusiasm and
self-sacrifice to transform the existing facts into something better, and to win
success against all odds. Statesmen of the former type are always attacked as
unpatriotic and mean-spirited; those of the latter, as unpractical and reckless.
There is truth and falsehood in both accusations: but since no statesman has
ever combined all the elements of statesmanship in a perfect and just
proportion, and since neither prudence and clear-sightedness, nor enthusiastic
and generous sentiment, can ever be dispensed with in the conduct of affairs
without loss, a larger view will attach little discredit to either type. While,
therefore, we may view with regret some of the methods which both Demosthenes
and Aeschines at times condescended to use in their conflicts with one another,
and with no less regret the disastrous result of the policy which ultimately
carried the day, we need not hesitate to give their due to both of the
contending parties: nor, while we recognize that Eubulus and Phocion (his
sturdiest supporter in the field and in counsel) took the truer view of the
situation, and of the character of the Athenians as they were, need we (as it is
now fashionable to do) denounce the orator who strove with unstinting personal
effort and self-sacrifice to rouse the Athenians into a mood in which they could
and would realize the ideal to which they, no less than he, professed their
devotion.
But the difficulties in the way of such a realization were wellnigh insuperable.
Neither the political nor the military system of Athens was adapted to such a
policy. The Sovereign Assembly, though capable of sensible and energetic action
at moments of special danger, was more likely to be moved by feeling and
prejudice than by businesslike argument, particularly at a time when the
tendency of the best educated and most intelligent men was to withdraw from
participation in public life; and meeting, as the Assembly did (unless specially
summoned), only at stated intervals, it was incapable of taking such rapid,
well-timed, and decisive action as Philip could take, simply because he was a
single man, sole master of his own policy, and personally in command of his own
forces. The publicity which necessarily attached to the discussions of the
Assembly was a disadvantage at a time when many plans would better have been
kept secret; and rapid modifications of policy, to suit sudden changes in the
situation, were almost impossible. Again, while no subjects are so unsuited
under any circumstances for popular discussion as foreign and military affairs,
the absence in Athens of a responsible ministry greatly increased the
difficulties of her position. It is true that the Controller of the Festival
Fund (whose office gradually became more and more important) was now appointed
for four years at a time, while all other offices were annual; and that he and
his friends, and their regular opponents, were generally ready to take the lead
in making proposals to the Council or the Assembly. But if they chose to remain
silent, they could do so;[4] no one was bound to make any proposal at all; and,
on the other hand, any one might do so. With such a want of system, far too much
was left to chance or to the designs of interested persons. Moreover, the
Assembly felt itself under no obligation to follow for any length of time any
lead which might be given to it, or to maintain any continuity or consistency
between its own decrees. In modern times, a minister, brought into power by the
will of the majority of the people, can reckon for a considerable period upon
the more or less loyal support of the majority for himself and his official
colleagues. In Athens the leader of the moment had to be perpetually adapting
himself afresh to the mood of the Assembly, and even to deceive it, in order
that he might lead at all, or carry out the policy which, in his opinion, his
country's need required. It is therefore a remarkable thing that both Eubulus
and Demosthenes succeeded for many years in maintaining a line of action as
consistent as that taken by practical men can ever be.
The fact that the Council of Five Hundred, which acted as a standing committee
of the people, and prepared business for the Assembly and was responsible for
the details of measures passed by the Assembly in general form, was chosen by
lot and changed annually, as did practically all the civil and the military
officials (though the latter might be re-elected), was all against efficiency
and continuity of policy.[5] After the system of election by lot, the most
characteristic feature of the Athenian democracy was the responsibility of
statesmen and generals to the law-courts.[6] Any citizen might accuse them upon
charges nominally limited in scope, but often serving in reality to bring their
whole career into question. Had it been certain that the courts would only
punish incompetence or misconduct, and not failure as such, little harm would
have resulted. But although there were very many acquittals in political trials,
the uncertainty of the issue was so great, and the sentences inflicted upon the
condemned so severe (commonly involving banishment at least), that the liability
to trial as a criminal must often have deterred the statesman and the general
from taking the most necessary risks; while the condemnation of the accused had
usually the result of driving a really able man out of the country, and
depriving his fellow countrymen of services which might be urgently required
when they were no longer available.
The financial system was also ill adapted for the purposes of a people
constantly liable to war. The funds required for the bare needs of a time of
peace seem indeed to have been sufficiently provided from permanent sources of
income (such as the silver mines, the rent of public lands, court fees and
fines, and various indirect taxes): but those needed for war had to be met by a
direct tax upon property, levied _ad hoc_ whenever the necessity arose, and not
collected without delays and difficulties. And although the equipment of ships
for service was systematically managed under the trierarchic laws,[7] it was
still subject to delays no less serious. There was no regular system of
contribution to State funds, and no systematic accumulation of a reserve to meet
military needs. The raising of money by means of loans at interest to the State
was only adopted in Greece in a few isolated instances:[8] and the practice of
annually distributing surplus funds to the people,[9] however necessary or
excusable under the circumstances, was wholly contrary to sound finance.
An even greater evil was the dependence of the city upon mercenary forces and
generals, whose allegiance was often at the call of the highest bidder, and in
consequence was seldom reliable. There is no demand which Demosthenes makes with
greater insistence, than the demand that the citizens themselves shall serve
with the army. At a moment of supreme danger, they might do so. But in fact
Athens had become more and more an industrial state, and men were not willing to
leave their business to take care of itself for considerable periods, in order
to go out and fight, unless the danger was very urgent, or the interests at
stake of vital importance; particularly now that the length of campaigns had
become greater and the seasons exempted from military operations shorter. In
many minds the spread of culture, and of the ideal of self-culture, had produced
a type of individualism indifferent to public concerns, and contemptuous of
political and military ambitions. Moreover, the methods of warfare had undergone
great improvement; in most branches of the army the trained skill of the
professional soldier was really necessary; and it was not possible to leave the
olive-yard or the counting-house and become an efficient fighter without more
ado. But the expensiveness of the mercenary forces; the violent methods by which
they obtained supplies from friends and neutrals, as well as foes, if, as often
happened, their pay was in arrear; and the dependence of the city upon the
goodwill of generals and soldiers who could without much difficulty find
employment under other masters, were evils which were bound to hamper any
attempt to give effect to a well-planned and far-sighted scheme of action.
It also resulted from the Athenian system of government that the general, while
obviously better informed of the facts of the military situation than any one
else could be, and at the same time always liable to be brought to trial in case
of failure, had little influence upon policy, unless he could find an effective
speaker to represent him. In the Assembly and in the law-courts (where the
juries were large enough to be treated in the same manner as the Assembly
itself) the orator who could win the people's ear was all powerful, and expert
knowledge could only make itself felt through the medium of oratory.
A constitution which gave so much power to the orator had grave disadvantages.
The temptation to work upon the feelings rather than to appeal to the reason of
the audience was very strong, and no charge is more commonly made by one orator
against another than that of deceiving or attempting to deceive the people. It
is, indeed, very difficult to judge how far an Athenian Assembly was really
taken in by sophistical or dishonest arguments: but it is quite certain that
such arguments were continually addressed to it; and the main body of the
citizens can scarcely have had that first-hand knowledge of facts, which would
enable them to criticize the orator's statements. Again, the oration appealed to
the people as a performance, no less than as a piece of reasoning. Ancient
political oratory resembled the oratory of the pulpit at the present day, not
only because it appealed perpetually to the moral sense, and was in fact a kind
of preaching; but also because the main difficulty of the ancient orator and the
modern preacher was the same: for the Athenians liked being preached at, as the
modern congregation 'enjoys' a good sermon, and were, therefore, almost equally
immune against conversion. The conflicts of rival orators were regarded mainly
as an entertainment. The speaker who was most likely to carry the voting (except
when a great crisis had roused the Assembly to seriousness) was the one who
found specious and apparently moral reasons for doing what would give the
audience least trouble; and consequently one who, like Demosthenes, desired to
stir them up to action and personal sacrifices, had always an uphill fight: and
if he also at times 'deceived the people' or employed sophistical arguments in
order to secure results which he believed to be for their good, we must remember
the difficulty (which, in spite of the wide circulation of authentic
information, is at least equally great at the present day) of putting the true
reasons for or against a policy, before those who, whether from want of
education or from lack of training in the subordination of feeling to thought,
are not likely to understand or to listen to them. Nor, if we grant the
genuineness of Demosthenes' conviction as to the desirability of the end for
which he contended, can many statesmen be pointed out, who have not been at
least as guilty as he in their choice of means. That he did not solve the
problem, how to lead a democracy by wholly honest means, is the less to his
discredit, in that the problem still remains unsolved.
It should be added that with an audience like the Athenian, whose aesthetic
sensitiveness was doubtless far greater than that of any modern assembly,
delivery counted for much. Aeschines' fine voice was a real danger to
Demosthenes, and Demosthenes himself spoke of delivery, or the skilled acting of
his part, as the all-important condition of an orator's success. But it is clear
that this can have been no advantage from the standpoint of the public interest.
In the law-courts the drawbacks to which the commanding influence of oratory was
liable were intensified. In the Assembly a certain amount of reticence and self-
restraint was imposed by custom: an opponent could not be attacked by name or on
purely personal grounds; and an appearance of impartiality was commonly assumed.
But in the courts much greater play was allowed to feeling; and the arguments
were often much more disingenuous, not only because the personal interests at
stake made the speaker more unscrupulous, but also, perhaps, because the juries
ordinarily included a larger proportion of the poorer, the idler, and the less-
educated citizens than the Assembly. The legal question was often that to which
the jury were encouraged to pay least attention, and the condemnation or
acquittal of the accused was demanded upon grounds quite extraneous to the
indictment. (The two court-speeches contained in these volumes afford abundant
illustrations of this.) Personalities were freely admitted, of a kind which it
is difficult to excuse and impossible to justify. To attempt to blacken the
personal character of an opponent by false stories about his parentage and his
youth, and by the ascription to him and his relations of nameless immoralities,
is a very different thing from the assignment of wrong motives for his political
actions, though even in purely political controversy the ancients far exceeded
the utmost limits of modern invective. And this both Demosthenes and Aeschines
do freely. There is also reason to suspect that some of the tales which each
tells of the other's conduct, both while serving as ambassadors and on other
occasions, may be fabrications. The descriptive passages for which such
falsehoods gave an opening had doubtless their dramatic value in the oratorical
performance: possibly they were even expected by the listeners; but their
presence in the speeches does not increase our admiration either for the speaker
or for his audience.
All the force of Demosthenes' oratory was unable to defeat the great antagonist
of his country. To Philip of Macedon failure was an inconceivable idea. Resident
during three impressionable years of his youth at Thebes, he had there learned,
from the example of Epaminondas, what a single man could do: and he proceeded to
each of the three great tasks of his life--the welding of the rough Macedonians
into one great engine of war, the unification of Greece under his own
leadership, and the preparation for the conquest of the East by a united Greece
and Macedonia--without either faltering in face of difficulties, or hesitating,
out of any scrupulosity, to use the most effective means towards the end which
he wished at the moment to achieve; though in fact the charges of bad faith made
against him by Demosthenes are found to be exaggerated, when they are
impartially examined. Philip intended to become master of Greece: Demosthenes
realized this early, and, with all the Hellenic detestation of a master,
resolved to oppose him to the end. Philip was, indeed, in spite of the barbarous
traits which revealed themselves in him at times, not only gracious and
courteous by nature, but a sincere admirer of Hellenic--in other words, of
Athenian--culture; the relations between his house and the people of Athens had
generally been friendly; and there was little reason to suppose that, if he
conquered Athens, he would treat her less handsomely than in fact he did. Yet
this could not justify one who regarded freedom as Demosthenes regarded it, in
making any concession not extorted by the necessities of the situation: his duty
and his country's duty, as he conceived it, was to defeat the enemy of Hellenic
independence or to fall in the attempt. Nor was it for him to consider (as
Isocrates might) whether or no Philip's plans had now developed into, or could
be transformed into, a beneficent scheme for the conquest of the barbarian world
by a united Hellas, if the union was to be achieved at the price of Athenian
liberty. It is because, in spite of errors and of the questionable methods to
which he sometimes stooped, Demosthenes devoted himself unflinchingly to the
cause of freedom, for Athens and for the Hellenes as a whole, that he is
entitled, not merely as an orator but as a politician, to the admiration which
posterity has generally accorded him. It is, above all, by the second part of
his career, when his policy of antagonism to Philip had been accepted by the
people, and he was no longer in opposition but, as it were, in office, that
Demosthenes himself claims to be justified; and Aeschines' attempt to invalidate
the claim is for the most part unconvincing.
It is not easy to describe in a few paragraphs the characteristics of
Demosthenes as an orator. That he stands on the highest eminence that an orator
has ever reached is generally admitted. But this is not to say that he was
wholly free from faults. His contemporaries, as well as later Greek critics,
were conscious of a certain artificiality in his eloquence. It was, indeed, the
general custom of Athenian orators to prepare their speeches with great care:
the speakers who, like Aeschines and Demades, were able to produce a great
effect without preparation, and the rhetoricians who, like Alcidamas, thought of
the studied oration as but a poor imitation of true eloquence, were only a small
minority; and in general, not only was the arrangement of topics carefully
planned, but the greatest attention was paid to the sound and rhythm of the
sentences, and to the appropriateness and order of the words. The orator had
also his collections of passages on themes which were likely to recur
constantly, and of arguments on either side of many questions; and from these he
selected such passages as he required, and adapted them to his particular
purpose. The rhetorical teachers appear to have supplied their pupils with such
collections; we find a number of instances of the repetition of the same passage
in different speeches, and an abundance of arguments formed exactly on the model
of the precepts contained in rhetorical handbooks.[10] Yet with all this art
nothing was more necessary than that a speech should appear to be spontaneous
and innocent of guile. There was a general mistrust of the 'clever speaker', who
by study or rhetorical training had learned the art of arguing to any point, and
making the worse cause appear the better. To have studied his part too
carefully--even to have worked up illustrations from history and poetry--might
expose the orator to suspicion.[11] Demosthenes, in spite of his frequent
attempts to deprecate such suspicion, did not succeed wholly in keeping on the
safe side. Aeschines describes him as a wizard and a sophist, who enjoyed
deceiving the people or the jury. Another of his opponents levelled at him the
taunt that his speeches 'smelt of the lamp'. Dionysius of Halicarnassus, one of
the best of the ancient critics, says that the artificiality of Demosthenes and
his master Isaeus was apt to excite suspicion, even when they had a good case.
Nor can a modern reader altogether escape the same impression. Sometimes,
especially in the earlier speeches to the Assembly, the argument seems unreal,
the joints between the previously prepared commonplaces or illustrations and
their application to the matter in hand are too visible, the language is
artificially phrased, and wanting in spontaneity and ease. There are also parts
of the court speeches in which the orator seems to have calculated out all the
possible methods of meeting a particular case, and to be applying them in turn
with more ingenuity than convincingness. An appearance of unreality also arises
at times (again principally in the earlier speeches) from a certain want of
imagination. He attributes feelings and motives to others, which they were
really most unlikely to have entertained, and argues from them. Some of the
sentiments which he expects Artaxerxes or Artemisia to feel (in the Speeches on
the Naval Boards and for the Rhodians) were certainly not to be looked for in
them. Similar misconceptions of the actual or possible sentiments of the
Spartans appear in the Speech for the Megalopolitans, and of those of the
Thebans in the Third Olynthiac (Sec. 15). The early orations against Philip also
show some misunderstanding of his character. And if, in fact, Demosthenes lived
his early years largely in solitary studiousness and was unsociable by
disposition, this lack of a quick grasp of human nature and motives is quite
intelligible. But this defect grew less conspicuous as his experience increased;
and though even to the end there remained something of the sophist about him, as
about all the disciples of the ancient rhetoric, the greatness of his best work
is not seriously affected by this. For, in his greatest speeches, and in the
greatest parts of nearly all his speeches, the orator is white-hot with genuine
passion and earnestness; and all his study and preparation resulted, for the
most part, not in an artificial product, but in the most convincing expression
of his real feeling and belief; so that it was the man himself, and not the
rhetorical practitioner that spoke.
The lighter virtues of the orator are not to be sought for in him. In
gracefulness and humour he is deficient: his humour, indeed, generally takes the
grim forms of irony and satire, or verges on personality and bad taste. Few of
his sentences can be imagined to have been delivered with a smile; and something
like ferocity is generally not far below the surface. Pathos is seldom in him
unmixed with sterner qualities, and is usually lost in indignation. But of
almost every other variety of tone he has a complete command. The essential
parts of his reasoning (even when it is logically or morally defective) are
couched, as a rule, in a forcible and cogent form;[12] and he has a striking
power of close, sustained, and at the same time lucid argumentation. His matter
is commonly disposed with such skill that each topic occurs where it will tell
most powerfully; and while one portion of a speech affords relief to another
(where relief is needed, and particularly in the longer orations) all alike bear
on the main issue or strengthen the orator's position with his audience.
Historical allusions are not (as they often are by Aeschines and Isocrates)
enlarged out of proportion to their importance, but are limited to what is
necessary, in order to illustrate the orator's point or drive his lesson home.
Add to these qualities his combination of political idealism with absolute
mastery of minute detail; the intensity of his appeal to the moral sense and
patriotism of his hearers; the impressiveness of his denunciation of political
wrong; the vividness of his narrative, the rapid succession of his impassioned
phrases, and some part of the secret of his power will be explained. For the
rest, while there is in his writing every degree of fullness or brevity, there
is no waste of words, no 'fine language' out of place. His language, indeed, is
ordinarily simple--sometimes even colloquial; though in the arrangement of his
words in their most telling order he shows consummate art, and his metaphors are
often bold and sometimes even violent. In the use of the 'figures of speech' he
excels; above all, in the use of antitheses (whether for the purpose of vivid
contrast or of precise logical expression), and of the rhetorical question, used
now in indignation, now in irony, now in triumphant conclusion of an argument:
and at times there are master-strokes of genius, which defy all analysis, such
as the great appeal to the men of Marathon in the Speech on the Crown.[13] He
does not as a rule (and this is particularly true of the Speech on the Crown)
cover the whole of the ground with the same adequacy; but so concentrates all
his forces upon certain points as to be irresistible, and thus 'with thunder and
lightning confounds'[14] the orators who oppose him. It is no wonder that some
of the greatest of English orators, and notably of those of the eighteenth and
early nineteenth centuries, borrow from him not only words and phrases, but
inspiration and confidence in their cause, and look upon him as a model whom
they may emulate, but cannot excel.
FOOTNOTES
(Back To Top)
[1] See Introduction to First Philippic.
[2] See notes on Speech for the Megalopolitans.
[3] See note on Speech on the Crown, Sec. 140.
[4] See Speech on the Crown, Sec.Sec. 170 ff.
[5] See Zimmern, _The Greek Commonwealth_, pp. 159 ff., for an excellent short
account of the constitution and functions of the Council. That the councillors
themselves sat (for administrative purposes) in relays, changing ten times a
year, was also against continuity.
[6] See Speech on Embassy, Sec. 2 n.
[7] See Introduction to Speech on Naval Boards, and Philippic I, Sec.Sec. 36, 37.
[8] See Zimmern, _The Greek Commonwealth_, p. 205.
[9] See Zimmern, _The Greek Commonwealth_, p. 205.
[10] The 'Art' of Anaximenes is an interesting extant example of a fourth-
century handbook for practical orators. The Rhetoric of Aristotle stands on a
higher plane, but probably follows the lines laid down by custom in the
rhetorical schools.
[11] See Speech on Embassy, Sec. 246, and note.
[12] He is especially fond of the dilemma, which is not indeed cogent in strict
logic, but is peculiarly telling and effective in producing conviction in large
audiences.
[13] See [Longinus] 'On the Sublime', especially chap, xvi-xviii (English
translation by A. O. Prickard in this series). This treatise should be read by
all students of Demosthenes, especially chap. xii, xvi-xviii, xxxii, xxxiv,
xxxix.
[14] 'On the Sublime', chap. xxxiv.
[TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE: The text for all notes marked [n] will be found at the end
of the second volume.]
ON THE NAVAL BOARDS (OR. XIV)
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[_Introduction_. The speech was delivered in 354 B.C. News had been brought to
Athens that the Persian King Artaxerxes Ochus was making great military and
naval preparations, and though these were, in fact, directed against his own
rebellious subjects in Egypt, Phoenicia, and Cyprus, the Athenians had some
ground for alarm: for, two years before this, Chares, in command of an Athenian
fleet, had given assistance to Artabazus, Satrap of Ionia, who was in revolt
against the king. The king had made a protest, and (late in 355) Athens had
ordered Chares to withdraw his aid from Artabazus. A party in Athens now wished
to declare war on Persia, and appealed strongly to Athenian traditions in favour
of the proposal. Demosthenes opposes them, on the ground that it was not certain
that the king was aiming at Athens at all, and that the disunion of the Hellenic
peoples would render any such action unsafe: Athens had more dangerous enemies
nearer home, and her finances were not in a condition for such a campaign. But
he takes advantage of the interest aroused, to propose a reform of the
trierarchic system, designed to secure a more efficient navy, and to remedy
certain abuses in the existing method of equipping vessels for service.
In earlier times, the duty of equipping and commanding each trireme was laid
upon single citizens of means, the hull and certain fittings being found by the
state. When, early in the fourth century, the number of wealthy men had
diminished, each ship might be shared by two citizens, who commanded in turn. In
357 a law was passed, on the proposal of Periander, transferring the
responsibility from individuals to 'Symmories' or Boards. (The system had been
instituted in a slightly different form for the collection of the war-tax in the
archonship of Nausinicus, 378-7 B.C.) The collection of the sums required became
the work of twenty Boards, formed by the subdivision of the 1,200 richest
citizens: each contributor, whatever his property, paid the same share. The
richer men thus got off with the loss of a very small proportion of their
income, as compared with the poorer members of the Boards,[1] and in managing
the business of the Boards they sometimes contrived to exact the whole sum from
their colleagues, and to escape payment themselves. At the same time the duties
of the several Boards and their members were not allocated with sufficient
precision to enable the responsibility to be brought home in case of default;
and the nominal Twelve Hundred had fallen to a much smaller number, on whom the
burden accordingly fell with undue weight. Demosthenes' proposal provided for
the distribution of the responsibility of equipping the vessels and providing
the funds, in the most detailed manner, with a view to preventing all evasion;
but it was not carried. In fact, it was not until 340 that he succeeded in
reforming the trierarchy, and he then made the burden vary strictly with
property. The proposal, however, to declare war upon Persia went no further.
While, in this speech, Demosthenes is in accord with the policy of Eubulus, so
far as concerns the avoidance of war with Persia, his proposals of financial
reform would not be viewed with favour by the wealthy men who were Eubulus' firm
supporters. Some of the themes which recur continually in later speeches are
prominent in this--the futility of rhetorical appeals to past glories, without
readiness for personal service, and the need of a thorough organization of the
forces. While the speech shows rather too strongly the marks of careful
preparation, and seldom rises to eloquence--the style, indeed, is often rather
cramped and stiff, and the sentiments, especially at the beginning, artificially
phrased--it is moderate and practical in tone, and shows a characteristic
mastery of minute detail.]
{1} Those who praise your forefathers,[n] men of Athens, desire, no doubt, to
gratify you by their speeches; and yet I do not think that they are acting in
the interests of those whom they praise. For the subject on which they attempt
to speak is one to which no words can do justice; and so, although they thus win
for themselves the reputation of capable speakers, the impression which they
convey to their hearers of the merit of our forefathers is not adequate to our
conception of it. For my part I believe that their highest praise is constituted
by Time: for the time that has passed has been long, and still no generation has
arisen, whose achievements could be compared with advantage to theirs. {2} As
for myself, I shall attempt to point out the way in which, in my opinion, you
can best make your preparations. For the truth is, that if all of us who propose
to address you were to succeed in proving to you our rhetorical skill, there
would not be the slightest improvement in your condition--I am sure of it; but
if a single speaker were to come forward, whoever he might be, who could
instruct and convince you as to the nature of the preparations which would meet
the city's need, as to their extent, and the resources upon which we can draw
for them, your present fears would instantly be dissolved. This I will attempt
to do--if indeed it is in my power. But first I must briefly express my views as
to our relations with the king.
{3} I hold the king to be the common enemy of all the Hellenes; and yet I should
not on that account urge you, alone and unsupported, to raise war against him.
For I observe that there is no common or mutual friendship even among the
Hellenes themselves: some have more faith in the king than in some other
Hellenes. When such are the conditions, your interest requires you, I believe,
to see to it that you only begin war from a fair and just cause, and to make all
proper preparations: this should be the basis of your policy. {4} For I believe,
men of Athens, that if it were made plain to the eyes and understandings of the
Hellenes, that the king was making an attempt upon them, they would both fight
in alliance with those who undertook the defence for them and with them, and
would feel very grateful to them. But if we quarrel with him prematurely, while
his intentions are still uncertain, I am afraid, men of Athens, that we may be
forced to fight not only against the king, but also against those for whose
benefit we are exercising such forethought. {5} For he will pause in the
execution of his project, if indeed he has really resolved to attack the
Hellenes, and will bribe some of them with money and offers of friendship; while
they, desirous of bringing their private wars to a successful end, and animated
only by such a spirit, will disregard the common safety of all. I urge you then,
not to hurl the city needlessly into the midst of any such chaos of selfish
passions. {6} Moreover, I see that the question of the policy to be adopted
towards the king does not even stand on the same footing for the other Hellenes
as for you. It is open, I think, to many of them to manage certain of their own
interests as they please, and to disregard the rest of the Hellenes. But for you
it is not honourable, even if you are the injured party, and are dealing with
those who have injured you, to punish them so severely as to leave some of them
to fall under the domination of the foreigner: {7} and this being so, we must
take care, first, that we do not find ourselves involved in an unequal war, and
secondly, that he, whom we believe to be plotting against the Hellenes, does not
gain credit from the supposition that he is their friend. How then can this be
achieved? It will be achieved if it is manifest to all that the forces of Athens
have been overhauled and put in readiness, and if her intentions in regard to
their use are plainly righteous. {8} But to those who take a bold line, and urge
you, without any hesitation whatever, to go to war, my reply is this--that it is
not difficult to win a reputation for bravery, when the occasion calls for
deliberation; nor to prove yourself an accomplished orator, when danger is at
the door: but to display your courage in the hour of danger, and, in debate, to
have wiser advice to offer than others--that is the hard thing, and that is what
is required of you. {9} For my part, men of Athens, I consider that the proposed
war with the king would be a difficult undertaking for the city; while the
decisive conflict in which the war would result would be an easier matter, and
for this reason. Every war, I suppose, necessarily requires ships and money and
the command of positions. All such advantages the king, I find, possesses more
abundantly than we. But a conflict of forces requires nothing so much as brave
men; and of these, I believe, the larger number is with us, and with those who
share our danger. {10} For this reason I exhort you not to be the first, in any
way whatever, to take up the war; but for the decisive struggle I think you
ought to be ready and your preparations made. And further, if the forces[n] with
which foreigners and Hellenes could respectively be repelled were really
different in kind, the fact that we were arraying our forces against the king
would naturally, it may be, admit of no concealment. {11} But since all military
preparations are of the same character, and the main points of a force must
always be the same--the means to repel enemies, to help allies, and to retain
existing advantages--why, when we have our acknowledged foes,[n] do we seek to
procure others? Let us rather prepare ourselves to meet the enemies whom we
have, and we shall then repel the king also, if he takes the aggressive against
us. {12} Suppose that you yourselves summon the Hellenes to your side now. If,
when the attitude of some of them towards you is so disagreeable, you do not
fulfil their demands, how can you expect that any one will listen to you? 'Why,'
you say, 'we shall tell them that the king is plotting against them.' Good
Heavens! Do you imagine that they do not foresee this themselves? Of course they
do. But their fear of this does not yet outweigh the quarrels which some of them
have against you and against each other. And so the tour of your envoys will end
in nothing but their own rhapsodies.[n] {13} But if you wait, then, if the
design which we now suspect is really on foot, there is not one of the Hellenes
who stands so much upon his dignity that he will not come and beg for your aid,
when he sees that you have a thousand cavalry, and infantry as many as any one
can desire, and three hundred ships: for he will know that in these lies his
surest hope of deliverance. Appeal to them now, and we shall be suppliants, and,
if unsuccessful, rejected suppliants. Make your own preparations and wait, and
then they will be the suppliants and we their deliverers; and we may rest
assured that they will all come to us for help.
{14} In thinking out these points and others like them, men of Athens, my object
was not to devise a bold speech,[n] prolonged to no purpose: but I took the
greatest pains to discover the means by which our preparations could be most
effectively and quickly made; and therefore, if my proposal meets with your
approval, when you have heard it, you ought, I think, to pass it. Now the first
element in our preparation, men of Athens (and it is the most important), must
be this: your minds must be so disposed, that every one of you will perform
willingly and heartily any service that is required of him. {15} For you see,
men of Athens, that whenever you have unanimously desired any object, and the
desire has been followed by a feeling on the part of every individual, that the
practical steps towards it were for himself to take, the object has never yet
slipped from your grasp: but whenever the wish has had no further result than
that each man has looked to his neighbour, expecting his neighbour to act while
he himself does nothing, the object has never yet been attained. {16} But
supposing you to be filled with the keenness that I have described, I am of
opinion that we should make up the Twelve Hundred to their full number, and
increase it to 2,000, by the addition of 800. For if you can display this total,
then, when you have allowed for the unmarried heiresses and orphans,[n] for
property outside Attica,[n] or held in partnership, and for any persons who may
be unable to contribute,[n] you will, I believe, actually have the full 1,200
persons available. {17} These you must divide into twenty boards, as at present,
with sixty persons to each board; and each of these boards you must divide into
five sections of twelve persons each, taking care in every case to associate
with the richest man the poorest men,[n] to maintain the balance. Such is the
arrangement of persons which I recommend, and my reason you will know when you
have heard the nature of the entire system. {18} I pass to the distribution of
the ships. You must provide a total complement of 300 ships, forming twenty
divisions of fifteen ships apiece, and including in each division five of the
first hundred vessels,[n] five of the second hundred, and five of the third
hundred. Next, you must assign by lot[n] to each board of persons its fifteen
ships, and each board must assign three ships to each of its sections. {19} This
done, in order that you may have the payments also systematically arranged, you
must divide the 6,000 talents (for that is the taxable capital[n] of the
country) into 100 parts of sixty talents each. Five of each of these parts you
must allot to each of the larger boards--the twenty--and each board must assign
one of these sums of sixty talents to each of its sections; {20} in order that,
if you need 100 ships,[n] there may be sixty talents to be taxed for the expense
of each ship, and twelve persons responsible for it; if 200, thirty talents will
be taxed to make up the cost, and six persons will be responsible; if 300, then
twenty talents must be taxed to defray the expense, and four persons will be
responsible. {21} In the same way, men of Athens, I bid you make a valuation
according to the register of all those fittings of the ships which are in
arrear,[n] divide them into twenty parts, and allot to each of the large boards
one-twentieth of the debtors: these must then be assigned by each board in equal
numbers to each of its sections, and the twelve persons composing each section
must call up their share of the arrears, and provide, ready-equipped, the ships
which fall to them. {22} Such is the plan by which, in my opinion, the expense,
the ships, the trierarchs, and the recovery of the fittings could best be
provided for and put into working order. I proceed to describe a simple and easy
scheme for the manning of the vessels. I recommend that the generals should
divide the whole space of the dockyards into ten, taking care to have in each
space thirty slips for single vessels close together. This done they should
apportion to each space two of the boards and thirty ships; and should then
assign a tribe to each space by lot. {23} Each captain should divide into three
parts the space which falls to his tribe, with the corresponding ships, and
should allot these among the three wards[n] of each tribe, in such a way that if
each tribe has one division of the entire docks, each ward will have a third of
one of these divisions; and you will know, in case of need, first the position
assigned to the tribe; next, that of the ward; and then the names of the
trierarchs and their ships; each tribe will be answerable for thirty, and each
ward for ten ships. If this system is put in train, circumstances as they arise
will provide for anything that I may have overlooked to-day (for perhaps it is
difficult to think of everything), and there will be a single organization for
the whole fleet and every part of it.
{24} But what of funds? What resources have we immediately at our command? The
statement which I am about to make on this subject will no doubt be astonishing;
but I will make it nevertheless; for I am convinced that upon a correct view of
the facts, this statement alone will be proved true, and will be justified by
the event. I say then, that this is not the time to discuss the financial
question. We have large resources upon which, in case of necessity, we may
honourably and rightly draw: but if we inquire for them now, we shall not
believe that we can rely upon them even against the hour of need; so far shall
we be from supplying them now. 'What then,' you will ask me, 'are these
resources, which are non-existent now, but will be ours then? This is really
like a riddle.' I will tell you. {25} Men of Athens, you see all this great
city.[n] In this city there is wealth which will compare, I had almost said,
with the united wealth of all other cities. But such is the disposition of those
who own it, that if all your orators were to raise the alarm that the king was
coming--that he was at the doors--that there was no possible escape; and if with
the orators an equal number of prophets foretold the same thing; even then, far
from contributing funds, they would show no sign[2] [and make no
acknowledgement] of their possession of them. {26} If, however, they were to see
in course of actual realization all the terrors with which at present we are
only threatened in speeches, not one of them is so blind that he would not both
offer his contribution, and be among the first to pay the tax. For who will
prefer to lose his life and property, rather than contribute a part of his
substance to save himself and the remainder of it? Funds, then, we can command,
I am certain, if there is a genuine need of them, and not before; and
accordingly I urge you not even to look for them now. For all that you would
provide now, if you decided upon a levy, would be more ludicrous than nothing at
all. {27} Suppose that we are told to pay 1 per cent. now; that gives you sixty
talents. Two per cent. then--double the amount; that makes 120 talents. And what
is that to the 1,200 camels which (as these gentlemen tell us) are bringing the
king's money for him? Or would you have me assume a payment of one-twelfth, 500
talents? Why, you would never submit to this; and if you paid the money down, it
would not be adequate to the war. {28} You must, therefore, make all your other
preparations, but allow your funds to remain for the present in the hands of
their owners--they could nowhere be more safely kept for the use of the State;
and then, if ever the threatened crisis arises, you will receive them as the
voluntary gift of their possessors. This, men of Athens, is not only a possible
course of action, but a dignified and a politic one. It is a course of action
which is worthy to be reported to the ears of the king, and which would inspire
him with no slight apprehension. {29} For he well knows that by two hundred
ships, of which one hundred were Athenian,[n] his ancestors were deprived of one
thousand; and he will hear that Athens alone has now equipped three hundred; so
that, however great his infatuation, he could certainly not imagine it a light
thing to make this country his foe. But if it is his wealth that suggests proud
thoughts to his mind, he will find that in this respect too his resources are
weaker than ours. {30} It is true that he is said to be bringing a great
quantity of gold with him. But if he distributes this, he must look for more:
for just so it is the way of springs and wells to give out, if large quantities
are drawn from them all at once; whereas we possess, as he will hear, in the
taxable capital of the country, resources which we defend against attack in a
way of which those ancestors of his who sleep at Marathon can best tell him: and
so long as we are masters of the country there is no risk of our resources being
exhausted.
{31} Nor again can I see any grounds for the fear, which some feel, lest his
wealth should enable him to collect a large mercenary force. It may be that many
of the Hellenes would be glad to serve under him against Egypt,[n] against
Orontas,[n] or against certain other foreign powers--not from a wish that the
king should conquer any such enemies, but because each desires individually to
obtain some private means to relieve his present poverty. But I cannot believe
that any Hellene would march against Hellas. Whither will he turn afterwards?
Will he go to Phrygia and be a slave? {32} For the war with the foreigner is a
war for no other stake than our country, our life, our habits, our freedom, and
all that we value. Where is the wretch who would sacrifice self, parents,
sepulchres, fatherland, for the sake of some short-lived gain? I do not believe
that he exists. And indeed it is not even to the king's own interest to conquer
the Hellenes with a mercenary force; for an army which has conquered us is, even
more certainly,[n] stronger than he; and his intention is not to destroy us only
that he may fall into the power of others: he wishes to rule, if it may be, over
all the world; but if not, at least over those who are already his slaves.
{33} It may be supposed that the Thebans will be on the king's side. Now this
subject is one upon which it is hard to address you. For such is your hatred of
them, that you cannot hear a good word about them, however true, without
displeasure. And yet those who have grave questions to consider must not on any
pretext pass over any profitable line of argument. {34} I believe, then, that so
far are the Thebans from being likely ever to march with him against the
Hellenes, that they would give a great deal, if they had it to give, for an
opportunity of cancelling their former sins against Hellas.[n] But if any one
does believe that the Thebans are so unhappily constituted, at least you are all
aware, I presume, that if the Thebans take the part of the king, their enemies
must necessarily take the part of the Hellenes.
{35} My own belief is that our cause, the cause of justice, and its supporters,
will prove stronger in every emergency than the traitor and the foreigner. And
therefore I say that we need feel no excessive apprehension, and that we must
not be led on into taking the first step towards war. Indeed, I cannot even see
that any of the other Hellenes has reason to dread this war. {36} Are they not
all aware, that so long as they thought of the king as their common foe, and
were at unity with one another, they were secure in their prosperity; but that
ever since they imagined that they could count upon the king as their friend,
and fell to quarrelling over their private interests, they have suffered such
evils as no malediction could have devised for them? Must we then dread a man
whose friendship, thanks to Fortune and Heaven, has proved so unprofitable, and
his enmity so advantageous? By no means! Let us not, however, commit any
aggression, in view of our own interests, and of the disturbed and mistrustful
spirit which prevails among the rest of the Hellenes. {37} Were it possible,
indeed, to join forces with them all, and with one accord to attack the king in
his isolation, I should have counted it no wrong even were we to take the
aggressive. But since this is impossible, we must be careful to give the king no
pretext for trying to enforce the claims of the other Hellenes against us. If
you keep the peace, any such step on his part would arouse suspicion; but if you
are the first to begin war, his hostility to you would make his desire to
befriend your rivals appear natural enough. {38} Do not then lay bare the evil
condition of Hellas, by calling the powers together when they will not obey, or
undertaking a war which you will be unable to carry on. Keep the peace; take
courage, and make your preparations. Resolve that the news which the king hears
of you shall certainly not be that all Hellas, and Athens with it, in distress
or panic or confusion. Far from it! {39} Let him rather know that if falsehood
and perjury were not as disgraceful in Hellenic eyes as they are honourable in
his, you would long ago have been on the march against him: and that though, as
it is, your regard for yourselves forbids you to act thus, you are praying to
all the gods that the same madness may seize him as once seized his ancestors.
And if it occurs to him to reflect upon this, he will find that your
deliberations are not conducted in any careless spirit. {40} He at least shares
the knowledge that it was your wars with his own ancestors that raised Athens to
the summit of prosperity and greatness; while the peaceful policy which she
previously pursued never gave her such a superiority as she now enjoys over any
single state in Hellas. Aye, and he sees that the Hellenes are in need of one
who, whether intentionally or not, will reconcile them one to another; and he
knows that if he were to stir up war, he himself would assume that character in
relation to them; so that the news which he will hear of you will be
intelligible and credible to him.
{41} But I do not wish to trouble you, men of Athens, by unduly prolonging my
speech. I will therefore recapitulate my advice and retire. I bid you prepare
your forces with a view to the enemies whom you have. If the king or any other
power attempts to do you injury, you must defend yourselves with these same
forces. But you must not take the aggressive by word or deed; and you must take
care that it is your deeds, and not your platform speeches, that are worthy of
your forefathers. If you act thus, you will be consulting both your own
interests and those of the speakers who are opposing me; since you will have no
cause to be angry with them afterwards, because you have decided wrongly to-day.
FOOTNOTES
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[1] See Speech on Crown, Sec.Sec. 102 ff. and notes.
[2] See Speech on Crown, Sec.Sec. 102 ff. and notes.
FOR THE MEGALOPOLITANS (OR. XVI)
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[_Introduction_. In 371 B.C. the Thebans under Epaminondas defeated the Spartans
at Leuctra, and, assisted by Thebes, the Arcadians and Messenians threw off the
Spartan yoke. The former founded Megalopolis as their common centre, the latter
Messene. But after the death of Epaminondas in 362, Thebes was left without a
leader; and when, in 355, she became involved in the 'Sacred War' with the
Phocians, the new Peloponnesian states turned towards Athens, and Messene
received a solemn promise of Athenian assistance, if ever she was attacked by
Sparta. In 353 Thebes was suffering considerably from the Sacred War, and the
Spartans made an ingenious attempt to recover their power, in the form of a
proposal for the restoration of territory to its original owners. This meant
that Athens would recover Oropus, which had been in the hands of Thebes since
366, and had previously been the subject of a long-standing dispute; that
Orchomenus, Thespiae, and Plataeae, which had all been overthrown by Thebes,
would be restored; and that Elis and Phlius would also recover certain lost
possessions. All these states would then be morally bound (so the Spartans
thought) to help Sparta to reconquer Arcadia and Messenia.
On the occasion of this speech (delivered in 353) the Megalopolitans had
appealed to Athens, and an Arcadian and a Spartan embassy had each had an
audience of the Assembly, and had each received strong support from Athenian
speakers. The principal motives of the supporters of Sparta were their hostility
to Thebes, and their desire not to break with the Spartans, whom Athens had
assisted at Mantineia in 362 against the Thebans and Megalopolitans. Demosthenes
supports the Arcadians, and lays great stress on the desirability of maintaining
a balance of power between Sparta and Thebes, so that neither might become too
strong. To allow Sparta to reconquer Arcadia, and, as the next step, Messenia,
would be to render her too formidable; and to reject the proposal of Sparta
would not preclude Athens from recovering Oropus and demanding the restoration
of the Boeotian towns. But the promise of assistance to the Arcadians should be
accompanied by a request for the termination of their alliance with Thebes.
Demosthenes' advice was not followed. In fact Athens was hardly in a position to
risk becoming entangled in a war with Sparta, particularly in view of the danger
to her northern possessions from Philip. She therefore remained neutral, while
the Thebans, relieved from the pressure of the Sacred War owing to the defeat of
the Phocian leader Onomarchus by Philip, were able to send aid to Megalopolis. A
truce between Sparta and Megalopolis was made about 350. It was, however, a
result of the neutrality of Athens, that she was unable, a few years later, to
secure the support of the Arcadians against Philip, whose allies they
subsequently became.
Lord Brougham describes the oration as 'one of extraordinary subtlety and
address in handling delicate topics'; and, after quoting the passage in which
Demosthenes urges the necessity of maintaining a balance of power between rival
states, adds that 'this is precisely the language of modern policy'. At the same
time, the speech has in places a somewhat academic and theoretical air: it is
much occupied with the weighing of hypothetical considerations and obligations
against one another: and though it enunciates some plain and reasonable
political principles, and makes an honest attempt to satisfy those who wished to
help the Arcadians, but at the same time desired to regain ground against
Thebes, it is not always convincing, and the tone is more frankly opportunist
than is usually the case with Demosthenes.]
{1} I think, men of Athens, that those who have spoken on the Arcadian side and
those who have spoken on the Spartan, are alike making a mistake. For their
mutual accusations and their attacks upon one another would suggest that they
are not, like yourselves, Athenians, receiving the two embassies, but actually
delegates of the two states. Such attacks it was for the two deputations to
make. The duty of those who claim to advise you here was to discuss the
situation impartially, and to inquire, in an uncontentious spirit, what course
is best in your interests. {2} As it is, if one could alter the fact that they
are known to us, and that they speak the dialect of Attica, I believe that many
would imagine that those on the one side actually were Arcadians, and those on
the other, Spartans. For my part, I see plainly enough the difficulty of
offering the best advice. For you, like them, are deluded, in your desire for
one extreme or the other: and one who endeavours to propose an intermediate
course, which you will not have the patience to understand, will satisfy neither
side and will forfeit the confidence of both. {3} But in spite of this, I shall
prefer, for my own part, to risk being regarded as an idle chatterer (if such is
really to be my lot), rather than to abandon my conviction as to what is best
for Athens, and leave you to the mercy of those who would deceive you. And while
I shall deal with all other points later, by your leave, I shall take for my
starting-point, in explaining the course which I believe to be best, those
principles which are admitted by all.
{4} There can be no possible question that it is to the interest of the city
that both the Spartans and these Thebans should be weak; and the present
situation, if one may judge at all from what has constantly been asserted in
your presence, is such, that if Orchomenus, Thespiae, and Plataeae[n] are re-
established, Thebes becomes weak; and that if the Spartans can reduce Arcadia to
subjection and destroy Megalopolis, Sparta will recover her former strength. {5}
We must, therefore, take care not to allow the Spartans to attain a formidable
degree of strength, before the Thebans have become insignificant, lest there
should take place, unobserved by us, such an increase in the power of Sparta as
would be out of proportion to the decrease in the power of Thebes which our
interests demand. For it is, of course, out of the question that we should
desire merely to substitute the rivalry of Sparta for that of Thebes: that is
not the object upon which we are bent. Our object is rather that neither people
shall be capable of doing us any injury. That is what will best enable us to
live in security.
{6} But, granted that this is what ought to be, still, we are told, it is a
scandalous thing to choose for our allies the men against whom we were arrayed
at Mantineia, and further, to help them against those whose perils we shared
that day. I agree; but I think that we need to insert the condition, 'provided
that the two parties are willing to act rightly.' {7} For if all alike prove
willing to keep the peace, we shall not go to the aid of the Megalopolitans,
since there will be no need to do so; and so there will be no hostility whatever
on our part towards our former comrades in battle. They are already our allies,
as they tell us; and now the Arcadians will become our allies as well. What more
could we desire? {8} But suppose they act wrongfully and think fit to make war.
In that case, if the question before us is whether we are to abandon Megalopolis
to Sparta or not, then I say that, wrong though it is, I will acquiesce in our
permitting this, and declining to oppose our former companions in danger. But if
you all know that, after capturing Megalopolis, they will march against Messene,
let me ask any of those who are now so harshly disposed towards Megalopolis to
say what action he will _then_ advise. No answer will be given. {9} In fact you
all know that, whether they advise it or not, we _must_ then go to the rescue,
both because of the oath which we have sworn to the Messenians, and because our
interests demand the continued existence of that city. Ask yourselves, then, on
which occasion you can most honourably and generously interpose to check the
aggressions of Sparta--in defence of Megalopolis, or in defence of Messene? {10}
On the present occasion it will be understood that you are succouring the
Arcadians, and are anxious that the Peace, which you fought for and risked your
lives to win, may be secure. But if you wait, all the world will see plainly
that it is not in the name of right that you desire the existence of Messene,
but because you are afraid of Sparta. And while we should always seek and do the
right, we should at the same time take good care that what is right shall also
be advantageous.
{11} Now an argument is used by speakers on the other side to the effect that we
ought to attempt to recover Oropus,[n] and that if we make enemies of those who
might come to our assistance against it we shall have no allies. I too say that
we should try to recover Oropus. But the argument that the Spartans will be our
enemies now, if we make alliance with those Arcadians who desire our friendship,
is an argument which no one has less right even to mention, than those who
induced you to help the Spartans when they were in danger. {12} Such was not
their argument, when all the Peloponnesians came to you,[n] entreating you to
support them in their campaign against Sparta, and they persuaded you to reject
the entreaty, with the result that the Peloponnesians took the only remaining
course and applied to Thebes--when they bade you contribute funds and imperil
your lives for the deliverance of the Spartans. Nor, I presume, would you have
been willing to protect them, had they warned you that you must expect no
gratitude for their deliverance, unless, after saving them, you allowed them
once more to do as they pleased and commit fresh aggressions. {13} And further,
however antagonistic it may be to the designs of the Spartans, that we should
make the Arcadians our allies, they are surely bound to feel a gratitude towards
us for saving them when they were in the utmost extremity, which will outweigh
their vexation at our preventing their present wrongdoing. Must they not then
either assist us to recover Oropus, or else be regarded as the basest of
mankind? For, by Heaven, I can see no other alternative.
{14} I am astonished, also, to hear it argued that if we make the Arcadians our
allies, and carry out my advice, it will seem as though Athens were changing her
policy, and were utterly unreliable. I believe that the exact reverse of this is
the case, men of Athens, and I will tell you why. I suppose that no one in the
world can deny that when this city saved the Spartans,[n] and before them the
Thebans,[n] and finally the Euboeans,[n] and subsequently made them her allies,
she had one and the same end always in view. {15} And what was this? It was to
deliver the victims of aggression. And if this is so, it is not we that should
be changing, but those who refuse to adhere to the right; and it will be
manifest that, although circumstances change from time to time with the
ambitious designs of others, Athens does not change.
{16} I believe that the Spartans are playing a very unscrupulous part. At
present they tell us that the Eleans are to recover part of Triphylia,[n] and
the Phliasians, Tricaranum;[n] other Arcadians are to recover their own
possessions, and we ourselves are to recover Oropus--not that they have any
desire to see every state enjoying its own--far from it!-- such generosity on
their part would be late indeed in showing itself. {17} They wish rather to
present the appearance of co-operating with each separate state in the recovery
of the territory that it claims, in order that when they themselves march
against Messene, all may take the field with them, and give them their hearty
assistance, on pain of seeming to act unfairly, in refusing to return an
equivalent for the support which each of them received from Sparta in regard to
their own several claims. {18} My own view is that, even without the tacit
surrender of some of the Arcadians to Sparta, we can recover Oropus, aided not
only by the Spartans, if they are ready to act honourably, but by all who
disapprove of allowing Thebes to retain what is not her own. But even if it were
made quite plain to us, that without allowing Sparta to subdue the Peloponnese,
we should not be able to take Oropus, I should still think it preferable, if I
may dare to say so, to let Oropus go, rather than sacrifice Messene and the
Peloponnese to Sparta. For our quarrel with them would not, I believe, be
confined to this; since--I will not say what occurs to me; but there are many
risks which we should run.
{19} But, to pass on, it is a monstrous thing to use the hostile actions which,
they say, the Megalopolitans committed against us, under the influence of
Thebes, as a ground of accusation against them to-day; and, when they wish to be
friends and so atone for their action by doing us good, to look askance at them,
to seek for some way of avoiding their friendship, to refuse to recognize that
in proportion to the zeal which my opponents can prove the Megalopolitans to
have shown in supporting Thebes will be the resentment to which my opponents
themselves will deservedly be exposed, for depriving the city of such allies as
these, when they have appealed to you before appealing to Thebes. {20} Such a
policy is surely the policy of men who wish to make the Arcadians for the second
time the allies of others. And so far as one can forecast the future by
calculation, I am sure, and I believe that most of you will agree with me, that
if the Spartans take Megalopolis, Messene will be in peril; and if they take
Messene also, then I predict that we shall find ourselves allies of Thebes.[n]
{21} It is a far more honourable, a far better, course that we should ourselves
take over the Theban confederacy,[n] refusing to leave the field open to the
cupidity of the Spartans, than that we should be so afraid of protecting the
allies of Thebes, as first to sacrifice them, and then to save Thebes itself;
and, in addition, to be in a state of apprehension for our own safety. {22} For
if the Spartans capture Megalopolis and become a great power once more, the
prospect, as I conceive it, is not one which this city can view without alarm.
For I can see that even now they are determining to go to war, not to prevent
any evil which threatens them, but to recover their own ancient power: and what
their aims were when they possessed that power, you, I think, know[n] perhaps
better than I, and with that knowledge may well be alarmed.
{23} Now I should be glad if the speakers who profess their hatred for Thebes on
the one side, or for Sparta on the other, would tell me if their professed
hatred is based on consideration for you and your interests, or whether the one
party hates Thebes from an interest in Sparta, and the other Sparta from an
interest in Thebes. If the latter is the case, you should not listen to either,
but treat them as insane: but if the former, why this inordinate exaltation of
one side or the other? {24} For it is possible, perfectly possible, to humiliate
Thebes without rendering Sparta powerful. Indeed, it is by far the easier
course; and I will try to tell you how it can be done. We all know that, however
unwilling men may be to do what is right, yet up to a certain point they are
ashamed not to do so, and that they withstand wrongdoers openly, particularly if
there are any who receive damage through the wrong done: and we shall find that
what ruins everything and is the source of all evil is the unwillingness to do
what is right without reserve. {25} Now in order that no such obstacle may stand
in the way of the humiliation of Thebes, let us demand the re-establishment of
Thespiae, Orchomenus, and Plataeae, co-operating with their citizens ourselves,
and requiring others to do so; for the principle of refusing to allow ancient
cities to lie desolate is a right and honourable one. But let us at the same
time decline to abandon Megalopolis and Messene to the aggressors, or to suffer
the destruction of existing and inhabited cities, on the pretext of restoring
Plataeae and Thespiae. {26} Then, if our policy is made plain to all, there is
no one who will not wish to terminate the Thebans' occupation of territory not
their own. But if it is not, not only will our designs be opposed by the
Arcadians, in the belief that the restoration of these towns carries with it
their own ruin, but we shall have troubles without end. For, honestly, where can
we expect to reach an end, when we permit the annihilation of existing cities,
and require the restoration of those that have been annihilated?
{27} It is demanded by those whose speeches display the strongest appearance of
fairness, that the Megalopolitans shall take down the pillars[n] which
commemorate their alliance with Thebes, if they are to be trustworthy allies of
Athens. The Megalopolitans reply that for them it is not pillars, but interest,
that creates friendship; and that it is those who help them, that they consider
to be their allies. Well, that may be their attitude. Nevertheless, my own view
is, roughly speaking, this:--I say that we should simultaneously require the
Megalopolitans to take down the pillars, and the Spartans to keep the peace: and
that in the event of either side refusing to fulfil our request, we should at
once take the part of those who are willing to fulfil it. {28} For if the
Megalopolitans obtain peace, and yet adhere to the Theban alliance, it will be
clear to all that they prefer the grasping policy of Thebes to that which is
right. If, on the other hand, Megalopolis makes alliance frankly with us, and
the Spartans then refuse to keep the peace, it will surely be clear to all that
what the Spartans desire so eagerly is not the re-establishment of Thespiae, but
an opportunity of subduing the Peloponnese while the Thebans are involved in the
war.[n] {29} And I am surprised to find that there are some who are alarmed at
the prospect of the enemies of Sparta becoming allies of Thebes, and yet see
nothing to fear in the subjugation of these enemies by Sparta herself; whereas
the experience of the past can teach us that the Thebans always use such allies
against Sparta, while, when Sparta had them, she used to use them against us.
{30} There is another point which I think you should consider. Suppose that you
reject the overtures of the Megalopolitans. If they are annihilated and
dispersed, Sparta can recover her power at once. If they actually survive--for
things have happened before now beyond all hope--they will quite rightly be the
firm allies of Thebes. But suppose you receive them. Then the immediate result,
so far as they are concerned, is that they are saved by you: and as to the
future, let us now transfer our calculation of possible risks to the case of the
Thebans and Spartans. {31} If the Thebans are crushed, as they ought to be, the
Spartans will not be unduly powerful, for they will always have these Arcadians
at their doors to hold them in check. But if the Thebans actually recover and
survive the attack, they will at least be weaker; for the Arcadians will have
become our allies, and will owe their preservation to us. Thus on every ground
it is to our interest not to sacrifice the Arcadians, nor to let them think that
their deliverance, if they are really saved, is due to themselves, or to any
other people than you.
{32} And now, men of Athens, I solemnly declare that what I have said has been
prompted by no personal feeling, friendly or hostile, towards either side. I
have told you only what I believe to be expedient for you; and I exhort you not
to sacrifice the people of Megalopolis, and to make it your rule, never to
sacrifice a smaller power to a greater.
FOR THE FREEDOM OF THE RHODIANS (OR. XV)
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[_Introduction_. Dionysius of Halicarnassus places the speech in 351 B.C. He is
not always accurate, and the internal evidence has been thought by some to
suggest a date perhaps two years earlier. The reasons, however, for this are not
strong, and there has recently been a disposition to accept Dionysius' date.
As the result of the Social War, Chios, Cos, Rhodes, and Byzantium had made
themselves independent of Athens. They had been assisted by Mausolus, King of
Caria, a vassal of Persia. After the termination of the war, a Carian garrison
occupied Cos and Rhodes; the democratic constitution of Rhodes was overthrown
and the democratic party driven into banishment, as the result of an oligarchic
plot, which Mausolus had fostered. In 353 Mausolus died, and was succeeded by
Artemisia, his sister and wife. The exiles appealed to Athens for restoration,
and for the liberation of Rhodes from the Carian domination. It is evident that
the feeling in Athens against the Rhodians was very strong, owing to their part
in the late war, for which the democratic party had been responsible; and there
was some fear of the possible consequences of offending Artemisia and perhaps
becoming involved in war with Persia. Demosthenes, nevertheless, urges the
people to assist them, and to forget their misconduct. He appeals to the
traditional policy of Athens, as the saviour of the oppressed and protectress of
democracies, and warns them of the danger which would threaten Athens herself,
if the conversion of free constitutions into oligarchies were allowed to go
unchecked. He takes a different view from that of his opponents of the probable
attitude of Artemisia, and utters an impressive warning against corrupt and
unpatriotic statesmen, which foreshadows his more vehement attacks in the
orations against Philip.
The appeal was unsuccessful, for in the speech on the Peace (Sec. 25) Demosthenes
speaks of Cos and Rhodes as still subject to Caria.
The speech is more eloquent than the last, and more outspoken. Political
principles and ideals are enunciated with some confidence, and illustrated by
striking examples from history. But there also appears for the first time that
sense of the difficulty of rousing the Athenians to action of any kind, which is
so strongly expressed in later speeches.]
{1} It is, I think, your duty, men of Athens, when you are deliberating upon
affairs of such importance, to grant freedom of speech to every one of your
advisers. And for my part, I have never yet felt any difficulty in pointing out
to you the best course; for I believe that, broadly speaking, you all know from
the first what this is. My difficulty is to persuade you to act upon your
knowledge. For when a measure is approved and passed by you, it is as far from
execution as it was before you resolved upon it. {2} Well, you have to render
thanks to Heaven for this, among other favours--that those who went to war with
you not long ago, moved by their own insolent pride, now place their own hopes
of preservation in you alone. Well may we rejoice at our present opportunity!
For if your decision in regard to it is what it should be, you will find
yourselves meeting the calumnies of those who are slandering this city with a
practical and a glorious refutation. {3} For the peoples of Chios, Byzantium,
and Rhodes accused us of entertaining designs against them; and on this ground
they combined against us in the recent war. But now it will be seen[n] that,
while Mausolus, who under the pretence of friendship towards Rhodes, directed
and instigated their efforts, in reality robbed the Rhodians of their freedom;
while their declared allies, Chios and Byzantium, never came to aid them in
their misfortunes; {4} you, of whom they were afraid, and you alone, have been
the authors of their salvation. And because all the world will have seen this,
you will cause the popular party in every city to consider your friendship a
guarantee of their own safety; nor could you reap any greater blessing than the
goodwill which will thus be offered to you, spontaneously and without
misgivings, upon every hand.
{5} I notice, to my surprise, that those who urge us to oppose the king in the
interest of the Egyptians,[n] are the very persons who are so afraid of him when
it is the interest of the popular party in Rhodes that is in question. And yet
it is known to every one that the Rhodians are Hellenes, while the Egyptians
have a place assigned them in the Persian Empire. {6} I expect that some of you
remember that, when you were discussing our relations with the king, I came
forward and was the first to advise you[n] (though I had, I believe, no
supporters, or one at the most), that you would show your good sense, in my
opinion, if you did not make your hostility to the king the pretext of your
preparations, but prepared yourselves against the enemies whom you already had;
though you would resist him also, if he attempted to do you any injury. {7} Nor,
when I spoke thus, did I fail to convince you, but you also approved of this
policy. What I have now to say is the sequel to my argument on that occasion.
For if the king were to call me to his side and make me his counsellor, I should
give him the same advice as I gave you--namely, that he should fight in defence
of his own possessions, if he were opposed by any Hellenic power, but should
absolutely forego all claim to what in no way belongs to him. {8} If, therefore,
you have made a general resolve, men of Athens, to retire from any place of
which the king makes himself master, either by surprise or by the deception of
some of the inhabitants, you have not resolved well, in my judgement: but if you
are prepared, in defence of your rights, even to fight, if need be, and to
endure anything that may be necessary, not only will the need for such a step be
less, the more firmly your minds are made up, but you will also be regarded as
showing the spirit which you ought to show.
{9} To prove to you that I am not suggesting anything unprecedented in bidding
you liberate the Rhodians, and that you will not be acting without precedent, if
you take my advice, I will remind you of one of those incidents in the past
which have ended happily for you. You once sent out Timotheus, men of Athens, to
assist Ariobarzanes,[n] adding to your resolution the provision that he must not
break our treaty with the king; and Timotheus, seeing that Ariobarzanes was now
openly in revolt against the king, but that Samos was occupied by a garrison
under Cyprothemis, who had been placed there by Tigranes, the king's viceroy,
abandoned his intention of helping Ariobarzanes, but sat down before Samos,
relieved it, and set it free. {10} And to this day no war has ever arisen to
trouble you on account of this. For to enter upon a war for the purpose of
aggrandizement is never the same thing as to do so in defence of one's own
possessions. Every one fights his hardest to recover what he has lost; but when
men endeavour to gain at the expense of others, it is not so. They desire to do
this, if it is allowed them; but if they are prevented, they do not consider
that their opponents have done them any wrong.
{11} Now listen for a moment, and consider whether I am right or wrong, when I
conclude that if Athens were actively at work, Artemisia herself would now not
even oppose our action. If the king effects in Egypt all that he is bent upon, I
believe that Artemisia would make every attempt to secure for him the continued
possession of Rhodes--not from any goodwill towards him, but from the desire to
be credited with a great service to him, while he is still in her
neighbourhood,[n] and so to win from him as friendly a reception as possible.
{12} But if he is faring as we are told, if all his attempts have failed, she
will consider, and rightly, that the island can be of no further use to the
king, except as a fortified post to command her own dominions--a security
against any movement on her part. Accordingly she would prefer, I believe, that
you should have it, without her openly surrendering it to you, rather than that
he should occupy it. I think, therefore, that she would not even make an attempt
to save it; or that if she actually did so, it would be but weakly and
ineffectively. {13} For although I cannot, of course, profess to know what the
king will do, I must insist that it is high time that it should be made clear,
in the interests of Athens, whether he intends to lay claim to Rhodes or not:
for if he does so, we have then to take counsel, not for the Rhodians alone, but
for ourselves and for the Hellenes as a whole.
{14} At the same time, even if the Rhodians who are now in possession[n] of the
town held it by their own strength, I should never have urged you to take them
for your allies, for all the promises in the world. For I observe that they took
to their side some of their fellow citizens, to help them overthrow the
democracy, and that, having done this, they turned and expelled them: and I do
not think that men who failed to keep faith with either party would ever be
trustworthy allies for yourselves. {15} And further, I should never have made my
present proposal, had I been thinking only of the interests of the popular party
in Rhodes. I am not their official patron,[n] nor have I a single personal
friend among them; and even if both these things were otherwise, I should not
have made this proposal, had I not believed it to be for your advantage. For as
for the Rhodians, if I may use such an expression when I am pleading with you to
save them, I share your joy[1] at what has happened to them. For it is because
they grudged you the recovery of your rights that they have lost their own
freedom; and that, instead of the equal alliance which they might have had with
Hellenes, better than themselves, they are in bondage to foreigners and slaves,
whom they have admitted to their citadels. {16} Indeed, if you resolve to go to
their aid, I may almost say that this calamity has been good for them; for,
Rhodians as they are, I doubt if they would ever have come to their right mind
in prosperity; whereas actual experience has now taught them that folly
generally leads to manifold adversities; and perhaps they will be wiser for the
future. This lesson, I feel sure, will be no small advantage to them. I say then
that you should endeavour to save these men, and should bear no malice,
remembering that you too have been greatly deceived by conspirators against you,
and yet would not admit that you deserved yourselves to suffer for such
mistakes.
Observe this also, men of Athens. {17} You have waged many wars both against
democracies and against oligarchies; and of this no doubt you are as well aware
as I. But I doubt whether any of you considers for what objects you are fighting
in each case. What then are these objects? In fighting against a democracy, you
are fighting either over some private quarrel, when the parties have failed to
settle their disputes by the means publicly provided;[n] or you are contending
for a piece of territory, or about a boundary, or for a point of honour, or for
paramountcy. But in fighting against an oligarchy, it is not for any such
objects--it is your constitution and your freedom that are at stake. {18} And
therefore I should not hesitate to say that I believe it would be better for
you, that all the Hellenic peoples should be democracies, and be at war with
you, than that they should be governed by oligarchies, and be your friends. For
with a free people you would have no difficulty, I believe, in making peace
whenever you desired: but with an oligarchical State friendship itself cannot be
safe. For there can be no goodwill between Few and Many--between those who seek
for mastery, and those who have chosen the life of political equality.
{19} It surprises me also that though Chios and Mytilene are ruled by
oligarchies, and though now the Rhodians and all mankind, I may almost say, are
being brought into the same bondage, no one considers that any danger threatens
our own constitution also, or reflects that if every State is organized upon an
oligarchic basis, it is not possible that your own democracy should be suffered
to remain. For they know that no people but you could ever bring them forth into
a state of liberty again; and they will wish to put an end to so likely a source
of trouble to themselves. {20} As a rule we may regard wrongdoers as enemies
only to those whom they have wronged. But when men destroy free constitutions
and convert them into oligarchies, I say that you must think of them as the
common enemies of all whose hearts are set on freedom. {21} Again, men of
Athens, it is only right that you, a democracy yourselves, should show towards
other democracies in distress the same spirit as you would expect them to show
towards you, if any such calamity (which God forbid!) should happen to you. It
may be said that the Rhodians are justly punished. If so, this is not the time
to exult over them. When men are prosperous they should always be found taking
thought how best to help the distressed; for the future is unknown to all men.
{22} I have often heard it stated here in your presence, that when our democracy
had met with disaster,[n] you were joined by certain others in your anxiety for
its preservation. Of these I will only refer on the present occasion to the
Argives, and that briefly. For I cannot desire that you, who enjoy the
reputation of being always the saviours of the distressed, should prove inferior
to the Argives in that work. These Argives, though their territory borders on
that of the Spartans, whom they saw to be masters by land and sea, neither
hesitated nor feared to display their goodwill towards you; but when envoys came
from Sparta (so the story goes) to demand the persons of certain Athenian
refugees, they even voted that unless the envoys departed before sunset, they
should be adjudged public enemies. {23} If then the democracy of Argos in those
days showed no fear of the might of the Spartan Empire, will it not be a
disgrace if you, who are Athenians, are afraid of one who is a barbarian--aye,
and a woman?[n] The Argives, moreover, could point to many defeats sustained at
the hands of Sparta, while you have often defeated the king, and have not once
proved inferior either to his servants or to himself. For if ever the king has
gained any success against Athens, it has been by bribing the basest of the
Hellenes to betray their countrymen; in no other way has he ever succeeded. {24}
Indeed, even such success has done him no good. You will find that no sooner had
he rendered Athens weak,[n] by the help of the Spartans, than he had to fight
for his own kingdom against Clearchus and Cyrus. His successes, therefore, have
not been won in the open field, nor have his plots brought him any good. Now
some of you, I notice, are in the habit of speaking contemptuously of Philip, as
though he were not worth reckoning with; while you dread the king, as a powerful
enemy to any whom he chooses to oppose. But if we are not to defend ourselves
against Philip, because he is so mean a foe, and are to give way in everything
to the king, because he is so formidable, who is there, men of Athens, against
whom we shall ever take the field?
{25} Men of Athens, you have among you those who are particularly skilful in
pleading with you the rights of the rest of the world; and I should be glad to
give them this single piece of advice--that they should seek to plead your
rights with the rest of the world,[n] and so set an example of duty. It is
monstrous to instruct you about rights, without doing right oneself; and it is
not right that a fellow citizen of yours should have studied all the arguments
against you and none of those in your favour. {26} Ask yourselves, in God's
name, why it is that there is no one in Byzantium to tell the Byzantines that
they must not occupy Chalcedon,[n] which belongs to the king and formerly
belonged to you, but upon which they had no sort of claim; or that they must not
make Selymbria, once your ally, a contributory portion of the Byzantine state;
or include the territory of Selymbria[n] within the Byzantine frontier, in
defiance of the sworn treaty which ordains the independence of the cities? {27}
Why was there no one to tell Mausolus, while he lived, and Artemisia after his
death, that they must not occupy Cos and Rhodes and other Hellenic cities as
well, which the king their master ceded to the Hellenes by the treaty,[n] and
for the sake of which the Hellenes of those days faced many a peril and fought
many a gallant fight? Even if there actually are such advisers[n] in both cases,
at least it is not likely that they will find listeners. {28} For my part I
believe that it is right to restore the exiled democracy of Rhodes. But even if
it were not right, I think it would be proper to urge you to do it, when I
consider the course taken by such speakers as these; and for this reason. If all
the world, men of Athens, were bent upon doing right, it would be a disgrace to
us if we alone were unwilling to do so: but when all the world is preparing
itself in order to be able to commit wrong, then for us alone to abstain from
every enterprise, on the plea of right, is no righteousness, to my mind, but
cowardice. For I observe that the extent to which rights are admitted is always
in proportion to the claimant's power at the moment. {29} I can illustrate this
by an instance familiar to all of you. There are two treaties[n] between the
Hellenes and the king. The first was made by our own city, and all men praise
it; the second by the Spartans, and it is denounced by all. The rights defined
in these two treaties are not the same. For whereas a common and equal share of
private rights is given by law to weak and strong alike, in a settlement of
international rights it is the stronger who legislate for the weaker.
Well, you already know what the right course is.[n] {30} It remains to inquire
how you can carry out your knowledge into action; and this will be possible, if
you come to be regarded as public champions of universal liberty. But the great
difficulty which you find in doing your duty is, to my mind, natural enough. All
other men have only one conflict to face--the conflict with their declared foes;
and when these are subdued, there is no further obstacle to their secure
enjoyment of their happiness. {31} But for you there is a double conflict. In
addition to that to which all men are liable, there is another which is harder,
and which must be faced first: for you have to win the victory in your councils
over those who are deliberately working in your midst against the interests of
the city; and because, thanks to them, you can effect nothing that is demanded
of you without a struggle, it is natural that you should often miss your mark.
{32} The chief reason for the fearless adoption of such a course in public life
by so many men is perhaps to be found in the benefits which they obtain from
those who hire them. Yet at the same time, some of the blame may fairly be laid
at your own doors. For you ought, men of Athens, to think of a man's post in
public life as you think of his post in the army in the field. And how do you
think of this? If a man leaves the post assigned to him by his general, you
think that he deserves to be disfranchised and to lose all share in the
privileges of a citizen. {33} And so when men desert the post of civil duty,
committed to them by our forefathers, and follow an oligarchical[n] policy, they
should forfeit the privilege of acting as advisers to yourselves. As it is,
while you believe that those of your allies are best disposed towards you, who
have sworn to have the same friends and foes as yourselves, the politicians in
whom you place most faith are those whom you well know to have chosen the side
of the enemies of Athens.
{34} It is easy enough, however, to find reasons for accusing them and
reproaching all of you. But to find words or actions which will enable us to
rectify what is now amiss with us, is a task indeed. Moreover, the present is
not, perhaps, the time for entering into every point: but if only you can
confirm the policy which you have chosen by some suitable action, it may be that
other conditions will each in turn show some improvement. {35} I think,
therefore, that you ought to take this enterprise in hand with vigour, and to
act worthily of your country. Remember with what delight you listen to the
praises of your forefathers,[n] the recital of their deeds, the enumeration of
their trophies. Consider then that your forefathers dedicated these trophies,
not that you might gaze at them in idle wonder, but that you might imitate the
actions of those who placed them there.
FOOTNOTES
[1] [Greek: humin sygchair_o].
THE FIRST PHILIPPIC (OR. IV)
(Back To Top)
[_Introduction_. Philip became King of Macedonia in 359 B.C. Being in great
difficulties both from external enemies and from internal division, he made
peace with the Athenians, who were supporting the pretensions of Argaeus to the
throne, in the hope of recovering (by agreement with Argaeus) the colony of
Amphipolis on the Strymon, which they had lost in 424. Philip acknowledged the
title of Athens to Amphipolis, and sent home the Athenian prisoners, whom he had
captured among the supporters of Argaeus, without ransom. The Athenians,
however, neglected to garrison Amphipolis. In 358 (the year in which Athens
temporarily recovered her hold over Euboea, by compelling the Thebans to
evacuate the island), Philip carried on a successful campaign against the
Paeonian and Illyrian tribes, who were standing enemies of Macedonia. For the
next three years Athens was kept occupied by the war with her allies, and Philip
saw his opportunity. He besieged Amphipolis: when the citizens sent Hierax and
Stratocles to ask Athens for help, he dispatched a letter promising the
Athenians that he would give them Amphipolis when he had taken it; and a secret
understanding was arrived at between Philip and the Athenian envoys sent to him,
that Athens should give him Pydna (once a Macedonian town, but now an ally of
Athens) in exchange. Athens, therefore, listened neither to Amphipolis nor to
Olynthus, which had also made overtures to her. The Olynthians in consequence
made a treaty with Philip, who gave them Anthemus and promised to help them
against their old rival Poteidaea, a town in alliance with Athens. The
Olynthians on their part agreed not to make peace with Athens except in
conjunction with him. But Philip, when he had captured Amphipolis by a
combination of siege and intrigue, did not give it up to Athens, and instead of
waiting to receive Pydna from Athens, besieged and took it, aided once more by
treachery from within. In 356 he took Poteidaea (in conjunction with the
Olynthians, to whom he gave the town), the Athenians arriving too late to
relieve it; and then pursued his conquests along the Thracian coast. Further
inland he expelled the Thasians (allies of Athens) from Crenides and founded
Philippi on the site, in the centre of the gold-mines of Mount Pangaeus, from
which he henceforward derived a very large revenue; while the forests of the
district provided him with timber for ship-building, of which he took full
advantage: for in the next few years his ships made descents upon the Athenian
islands of Lemnos and Imbros, plundered the Athenian corn-vessels off the coast
of Euboea, and even landed a force at Marathon. In the latter part of 356 and in
355 he was occupied with the conquest of the Paeonians and Illyrians, with whom
Athens had made an alliance in 356. At the end of 355 he laid siege to Methone,
the last Athenian port on the Thermaic gulf, and captured it in 354. (Some place
the siege and capture of Methone in 354-3, but an inscription, C.I.G. II. 70,
makes it at least probable that the siege had begun by the last month of 355.)
In 353 Philip made his way to the Thracian coast, and conquered Abdera and
Maroneia. At Maroneia we find him in company with Pammenes (his former host at
Thebes), who had been sent by the Thebans to assist Artabazus in his revolt
against the Persian king; and at the same place he received Apollonides of
Cardia, the envoy of the Thracian prince Cersobleptes. On his way home his ships
escaped from Chares, off Neapolis, by a ruse. In the same year he interfered in
the affairs of Thessaly, where the Aleuadae of Larissa had invited his
assistance against Lycophron and Peitholaus of Pherae, who had invoked the aid
of the Phocians. (In opposing the Phocians, the antagonists of the Thebans in
the Sacred War, Philip was also helping the Thebans themselves, and gaining
credit as the opponent of the plunderers of the temple of Apollo at Delphi.)
Onomarchus, the Phocian leader, twice defeated Philip, but was overthrown and
slain in 352. Philip took Pherae and Pagasae (its port), occupied Magnesia, and,
by means of promises, obtained financial aid from the Thessalians. The
expedition sent by Athens to relieve Pagasae arrived too late; but when Philip,
after putting down the tyrants of Pherae and arranging matters in Thessaly,
advanced towards the Pass of Thermopylae, an Athenian force, sent on the advice
of Diophantus and Eubulus, appeared in time to oblige him to retire to
Macedonia. Late in the autumn of 352 we find him once more in Thrace. It was
probably now that he assisted the peoples of Byzantium and Perinthus, together
with Amadocus, a rival of Cersobleptes, against the latter; with the result that
Cersobleptes was obliged to give up his son to Philip as a hostage. Philip had
also made alliance with Cardia, which, like Byzantium, was on bad terms with
Athens. He now laid siege to Heraeon Teichos, a fortress on the Propontis, but
illness obliged him to suspend operations, and the rumour of his death prevented
the Athenians from sending against him the expedition which they had resolved
upon. (The retention of her influence in this region was essential for Athens,
if her corn-supply was to be secure.) In 351, on recovering from his illness, he
entered the territory of Olynthus, which, contrary to the agreement with him,
had made peace with Athens in the previous year, apart from himself: but he did
not at present pursue the invasion further. In October 351 Athens sent
Charidemus to the Hellespont with ten ships, but no soldiers and little money.
If these are the ships alluded to in Sec. 43 of the present Speech, the Speech must
have been delivered after that date. Otherwise any date after Philip's incursion
into the territory of Olynthus would suit the contents of the Speech, and many
writers place it earlier in the year. The question of the relations of Athens
with Philip had been brought forward; and Demosthenes, who had risen first to
speak, proposes the creation of a large permanent fleet, and of a smaller force
for immediate action, laying great stress on the necessity of sending Athenian
citizens both to command and to form a substantial proportion of the troops,
which, had so far been mostly mercenaries. The scheme was worked out in detail,
both in its military and in its financial aspects, and supported with an
eloquence and an earnestness which are far in advance of those displayed in the
earlier speeches.
The statement of Dionysius of Halicarnassus, that the Speech as we have it, is
really a conflation of two speeches, of which the second (beginning at Sec. 30) was
delivered in 347, is generally (and rightly) discredited.]
{1} If some new subject were being brought before us, men of Athens, I would
have waited until most of your ordinary advisers had declared their opinion; and
if anything that they said were satisfactory to me, I would have remained
silent, and only if it were not so, would I have attempted to express my own
view. But since we find ourselves once more considering a question upon which
they have often spoken, I think I may reasonably be pardoned for rising first of
all. For if their advice to you in the past had been what it ought to have been,
you would have had no occasion for the present debate.
{2} In the first place, then, men of Athens, we must not be downhearted at our
present situation, however wretched it may seem to be. For in the worst feature
of the past lies our best hope for the future-in the fact, that is, that we are
in our present plight because you are not doing your duty in any respect; for if
you were doing all that you should do, and we were still in this evil case, we
could not then even hope for any improvement. {3} In the second place, you must
bear in mind (what some of you have heard from others, and those who know can
recollect for themselves), how powerful the Spartans were, not long ago, and yet
how noble and patriotic your own conduct was, when instead of doing anything
unworthy of your country you faced the war with Sparta [n] in defence of the
right. [n] Now why do I remind you of these things? It is because, men of
Athens, I wish you to see and to realize, that so long as you are on your guard
you have nothing to fear; but that if you are indifferent, nothing can be as you
would wish: for this is exemplified for you both by the power of Sparta in those
days, to which you rose superior because you gave your minds to your affairs;
and by the insolence of Philip to-day, which troubles us because we care nothing
for the things which should concern us. {4} If, however, any of you, men of
Athens, when he considers the immense force now at Philip's command, and the
city's loss of all her strongholds, thinks that Philip is a foe hard to conquer,
I ask him (right though he is in his belief) to reflect also that there was a
time when we possessed Pydna and Poteidaea and Methone; when all the surrounding
country was our own, and many of the tribes [n] which are now on his side were
free and independent, and more inclined to be friendly to us than to him. {5}
Now if in those days Philip had made up his mind that it was a hard thing to
fight against the Athenians, with all their fortified outposts on his own
frontiers, while he was destitute of allies, he would have achieved none of his
recent successes, nor acquired this great power. But Philip saw quite clearly,
men of Athens, that all these strongholds were prizes of war, displayed for
competition. He saw that in the nature of things the property of the absent
belongs to those who are on the spot, and that of the negligent to those who are
ready for toil and danger. {6} It is, as you know, by acting upon this belief,
that he has brought all those places under his power, and now holds them--some
of them by right of capture in war, others in virtue of alliances and friendly
understandings; for every one is willing to grant alliance and to give attention
to those whom they see to be prepared and ready to take action as is necessary.
{7} If then, men of Athens, you also will resolve to adopt this principle to-
day--the principle which you have never observed before--if each of you can
henceforward be relied upon to throw aside all this pretence of incapacity, and
to act where his duty bids him, and where his services can be of use to his
country; if he who has money will contribute, and he who is of military age will
join the campaign; if, in one plain word, you will resolve henceforth to depend
absolutely on yourselves, each man no longer hoping that he will need to do
nothing himself, and that his neighbour will do everything for him; then, God
willing, you will recover your own; you will take back all that your indolence
has lost, and you will have your revenge upon Philip. {8} Do not imagine that
his fortune is built to last for ever, as if he were a God. He also has those
who hate him and fear him, men of Athens, and envy him too, even among those who
now seem to be his closest friends. All the feelings that exist in any other
body of men must be supposed to exist in Philip's supporters. Now, however, all
such feelings are cowed before him: your slothful apathy has taken away their
only rallying point; and it is this apathy that I bid you put off to-day. {9}
Mark the situation, men of Athens: mark the pitch which the man's outrageous
insolence has reached, when he does not even give you a choice between action
and inaction, but threatens you, and utters (as we are told) haughty language:
for he is not the man to rest content in possession of his conquests: he is
always casting his net wider; and while we procrastinate and sit idle, he is
setting his toils around us on every side. {10} When, then, men of Athens, when,
I say, will you take the action that is required? What are you waiting for? 'We
are waiting,' you say, 'till it is necessary.' But what must we think of all
that is happening at this present time? Surely the strongest necessity that a
free people can experience is the shame which they must feel at their position!
What? Do you want to go round asking one another, 'Is there any news?' Could
there be any stranger news than that a man of Macedonia is defeating Athenians
in war, and ordering the affairs of the Hellenes? {11} 'Is Philip dead?' 'No,
but he is sick.' And what difference does it make to you? For if anything should
happen to him, you will soon raise up for yourselves a second Philip, if it is
thus that you attend to your interests. Indeed, Philip himself has not risen to
this excessive height through his own strength, so much as through our neglect.
I go even further. {12} If anything happened to Philip--if the operation of
Fortune, who always cares for us better than we care for ourselves, were to
effect this too for us--you know that if you were at hand, you could descend
upon the general confusion and order everything as you wished; but in your
present condition, even if circumstances offered you Amphipolis, you could not
take it; for your forces and your minds alike are far away.
{13} Well, I say no more of the obligation which rests upon you all to be
willing and ready to do your duty; I will assume that you are resolved and
convinced. But the nature of the armament which, I believe, will set you free
from such troubles as these, the numbers of the force, the source from which we
must obtain funds, and the best and quickest way, as it seems to me, of making
all further preparations--all this, men of Athens, I will at once endeavour to
explain when I have made one request of you. {14} Give your verdict on my
proposal when you have heard the whole of it; do not prejudge it before I have
done; and if at first the force which I propose appears unprecedented, do not
think that I am merely creating delays. It is not those whose cry is 'At once',
'To-day', whose proposals will meet our need; for what has already happened
cannot be prevented by any expedition now. {15} It is rather he who can show the
nature, the magnitude, and the financial possibility of a force which when
provided will be able to continue in existence either until we are persuaded to
break off the war, or until we have overcome the enemy; for thus only can we
escape further calamity for the future. These things I believe I can show,
though I would not stand in the way of any other speaker's professions. It is no
less a promise than this that I make; the event will soon test its fulfilment,
and you will be the judges of it.
First then, men of Athens, I say that fifty warships must {16} at once be got in
readiness: and next, that you must be in such a frame of mind that, if any need
arises, you will embark in person and sail. In addition, you must prepare
transports for half our cavalry, and a sufficient number of boats. {17} These, I
think, should be in readiness to meet those sudden sallies of his from his own
country against Thermopylae, the Chersonese, Olynthus, and any other place which
he may select. For we must make him realize that there is a possibility of your
rousing yourselves out of your excessive indifference, just as when once you
went to Euboea,[n] and before that (as we are told) to Haliartus,[n] and
finally, only the other day, to Thermopylae. {18} Such a possibility, even if
you are unlikely to make it a reality, as I think you ought to do, is not one
which he can treat lightly; and you may thus secure one of two objects. On the
one hand, he may know that you are on the alert--he will in fact know it well
enough: there are only too many persons, I assure you, in Athens itself, who
report to him all that happens here: and in that case his apprehensions will
ensure his inactivity. But if, on the other hand, he neglects the warning, he
may be taken off his guard; for there will be nothing to hinder you from sailing
to his country, if he gives you the opportunity. {19} These are the measures
upon which I say you should all be resolved, and your preparations for them
made. But before this, men of Athens, you must make ready a force which will
fight without intermission, and do him damage. Do not speak to me of ten
thousand or twenty thousand mercenaries. I will have none of your paper-armies.
[n] Give me an army which will be the army of Athens, and will obey and follow
the general whom you elect, be there one general or more, be he one particular
individual, or be he who he may. {20} You must also provide maintenance for this
force. Now what is this force to be? how large is it to be? how is it to be
maintained? how will it consent to act in this manner? I will answer these
questions point by point. The number of mercenaries--but you must not repeat the
mistake which has so often injured you, the mistake of, first, thinking any
measures inadequate, and so voting for the largest proposal, and then, when the
time for action comes, not even executing the smaller one; you must rather carry
out and make provision for the smaller measure, and add to it, if it proves too
small--{21} the total number of soldiers, I say, must be two thousand, and of
these five hundred must be Athenians, beginning from whatever age you think
good: they must serve for a definite period--not a long one, but one to be fixed
at your discretion--and in relays. The rest must be mercenaries. With these must
be cavalry, two hundred in number, of whom at least fifty must be Athenians, as
with the infantry; and the conditions of service must be the same. {22} You must
also find transports for these. And what next? Ten swift ships of war. For as he
has a fleet, we need swift-sailing warships too, to secure the safe passage of
the army. And how is maintenance to be provided for these? This also I will
state and demonstrate, as soon as I have given you my reasons for thinking that
a force of this size is sufficient, and for insisting that those who serve in it
shall be citizens.
{23} The size of the force, men of Athens, is determined by the fact that we
cannot at present provide an army capable of meeting Philip in the open field;
we must make plundering forays, and our warfare must at first be of a predatory
nature. Consequently the force must not be over-big--we could then neither pay
nor feed it--any more than it must be wholly insignificant. {24} The presence of
citizens in the force that sails I require for the following reasons. I am told
that Athens once maintained a mercenary force in Corinth,[n] under the command
of Polystratus, Iphicrates, Chabrias and others, and that you yourselves joined
in the campaign with them; and I remember hearing that these mercenaries, when
they took the field with you, and you with them, were victorious over the
Spartans. But even since your mercenary forces have gone to war alone, it is
your friends and allies that they conquer, while your enemies have grown more
powerful than they should be. After a casual glance at the war to which Athens
has sent them, they sail off to Artabazus,[n] or anywhere rather than to the
war; and the general follows them naturally enough, for his power over them is
gone when he can give them no pay. You ask what I bid you do. {25} I bid you
take away their excuses both from the general and the soldiers, by supplying pay
and placing citizen-soldiers at their side as spectators of these mysteries of
generalship;[n] for our present methods are a mere mockery. Imagine the question
to be put to you, men of Athens, whether you are at peace or no. 'At peace?' you
would say; 'Of course not! We are at war with Philip.' {26} Now have you not all
along been electing from among your own countrymen ten captains and generals,[n]
and cavalry-officers, and two masters-of-the-horse? and what are they doing?
Except the one single individual whom you happen to send to the seat of war,
they are all marshalling your processions for you with the commissioners of
festivals. You are no better than men modelling puppets of clay. Your captains
and your cavalry-officers are elected to be displayed in the streets, not to be
sent to the war. {27} Surely, men of Athens, your captains should be elected
from among yourselves, and your master-of-the-horse from among yourselves; your
officers should be your own countrymen, if the force is to be really the army of
Athens. As it is, the master-of-the-horse who is one of yourselves has to sail
to Lemnos; while the master-of-the-horse with the army that is fighting to
defend the possessions of Athens is Menelaus.[n] I do not wish to disparage that
gentleman; but whoever holds that office ought to have been elected by you.
{28} Perhaps, however, while agreeing with all that I have said, you are mainly
anxious to hear my financial proposals, which will tell you the amount and the
sources of the funds required. I proceed, therefore, with these at once. First
for the sum. The cost of the bare rations for the crews, with such a force, will
be 90 talents and a little over--40 talents for ten swift ships, and 20 minae a
month for each ship; and for the soldiers as much again, each soldier to receive
rations to the value of 10 drachmae a month; and for the cavalry (two hundred in
number, each to receive 30 drachmae a month) twelve talents. {29} It may be said
that the supply of bare rations to the members of the force is an insufficient
initial provision; but this is a mistake. I am quite certain that, given so
much, the army will provide everything else for itself from the proceeds of war,
without injury to a single Hellene or ally of ours, and that the full pay will
be made up by these means. I am ready to sail as a volunteer and to suffer the
worst, if my words are untrue. The next question then is of ways and means, in
so far as the funds are to come from yourselves. I will explain this at once.
[_A schedule of ways and means is read_.]
{30} This, men of Athens, is what we have been able to devise; and when you put
our proposals to the vote, you will pass them, if you approve of them; that so
your war with Philip may be a war, not of resolutions and dispatches, but of
actions.
{31} I believe that the value of your deliberations about the war and the
armament as a whole would be greatly enhanced, if you were to bear in mind the
situation of the country against which you are fighting, remembering that most
of Philip's plans are successfully carried out because he takes advantage of
winds and seasons; for he waits for the Etesian winds[n] or the winter-season,
and only attacks when it would be impossible for us to effect a passage to the
scene of action. {32} Bearing this in mind, we must not carry on the war by
means of isolated expeditions; we shall always be too late. We must have a
permanent force and armament. As our winter-stations for the army we have
Lemnos, Thasos, Sciathos, and the islands in that region, which have harbours
and corn, and are well supplied with all that an army needs. And as to the time
of year, whenever it is easy to approach the shore and the winds are not
dangerous, our force can without difficulty lie close to the Macedonian coast
itself, and block the mouths of the ports.
{33} How and when he will employ the force is a matter to be determined, when
the time comes, by the commander whom you put in control of it. What must be
provided from Athens is described in the scheme which I have drafted. If, men of
Athens, you first supply the sum I have mentioned, and then, after making ready
the rest of the armament--soldiers, ships, cavalry--bind the whole force in its
entirety,[n] by law, to remain at the seat of war; if you become your own
paymasters, your own commissioners of supply, but require your general to
account for the actual operations; {34} then there will be an end of these
perpetual discussions of one and the same theme, which end in nothing but
discussion: and in addition to this, men of Athens, you will, in the first
place, deprive him of his chief source of supply. For what is this? Why, he
carries on the war at the cost of your own allies, harrying and plundering those
who sail the seas! And what will you gain besides this? You will place
yourselves out of reach of disaster. It will not be as it was in the past, when
he descended upon Lemnos and Imbros, and went off, with your fellow-citizens as
his prisoners of war, or when he seized the vessels off Geraestus,[n] and levied
an enormous sum from them; or when (last of all) he landed at Marathon, seized
the sacred trireme,[n] and carried it off from the country; while all the time
you can neither prevent these aggressions, nor yet send an expedition which will
arrive when you intend it to arrive. {35} But for what reason do you think, men
of Athens, do the festival of the Panathenaea and the festival of the
Dionysia[n] always take place at the proper time, whether those to whom the
charge of either festival is allotted are specially qualified persons or not--
festivals upon which you spend larger sums of money than upon any armament
whatsoever, and which involve an amount of trouble[n] and preparation, which are
unique, so far as I know, in the whole world--; and yet your armaments are
always behind the time--at Methone, at Pagasae, at Potidaea? {36} It is because
for the festivals all is arranged by law. Each of you knows long beforehand who
is to supply the chorus,[n] and who is to be steward of the games,[n] for his
tribe: he knows what he is to receive, and when, and from whom, and what he is
to do with it. No detail is here neglected, nothing is left indefinite. But in
all that concerns war and our preparation for it, there is no organization, no
revision, no definiteness. Consequently it is not until the news comes that we
appoint our trierarchs and institute exchanges of property for them, and inquire
into ways and means. When that is done, we first resolve that the resident
aliens and the independent freedmen[n] shall go on board; then we change our
minds and say that citizens shall embark; then that we will send substitutes;
and while all these delays are occurring, the object of the expedition is
already lost. {37} For we spend on preparation the time when we should be
acting, and the opportunities which events afford will not wait for our slothful
evasions; while as for the forces on which we think we can rely in the meantime,
when the critical moment comes, they are tried and found wanting. And Philip's
insolence has reached such a pitch, that he has sent such a letter as the
following to the Euboeans.
[_The letter is read_.]
{38} The greater part of the statements that have been read are true, men of
Athens; and they ought not to be true! but I admit that they may possibly be
unpleasant to hear; and if the course of future events would pass over all that
a speaker passes over in his speech, to avoid giving pain, we should be right in
speaking with a view to your pleasure. But if attractive words, spoken out of
season, bring their punishment in actual reality, then it is disgraceful to
blind our eyes to the truth, to put off everything that is unpleasant, {39} to
refuse to understand even so much as this, that those who conduct war rightly
must not follow in the wake of events, but must be beforehand with them: for
just as a general may be expected to lead his army, so those who debate must
lead the course of affairs, in order that what they resolve upon may be done,
and that they may not be forced to follow at the heels of events. {40} You, men
of Athens, have the greatest power in the world-warships, infantry, cavalry,
revenue. But none of these elements of power have you used as you ought, down to
this very day. The method of your warfare with Philip is just that of barbarians
in a boxing-match. Hit one of them, and he hugs the place; hit him on the other
side, and there go his hands; but as for guarding, or looking his opponent in
the face, he neither can nor will do it. {41} It is the same with you. If you
hear that Philip is in the Chersonese, you resolve to make an expedition there;
if he is at Thermopylae, you send one there; and wherever else he may be, you
run up and down in his steps. It is he that leads your forces. You have never of
yourselves come to any salutary decision in regard to the war. No single event
do you ever discern before it occurs--before you have heard that something has
happened or is happening. Perhaps there was room for this backwardness until
now; but now we are at the very crisis, and such an attitude is possible no
longer. {42} Surely, men of Athens, it is one of the gods--one who blushes for
Athens, as he sees the course which events are taking--that has inspired Philip
with this restless activity. If he were content to remain at peace, in
possession of all that he has won by conquest or by forestalling us--if he had
no further plans--even then, the record against us as a people, a record of
shame and cowardice and all that is most dishonourable, would, I think, seem
complete enough to some of you. But now he is always making some new attempt,
always grasping after something more; and unless your spirit has utterly
departed, his conduct will perhaps bring you out into the field. {43} It amazes
me, men of Athens, that not one of you remembers with any indignation, that this
war had its origin in our intention to punish Philip; and that now, at the end
of it, the question is, how we are to escape disaster at his hands. But that he
will not stay his progress until some one arrests it is plain enough. Are we
then to wait for that? Do you think that all is right, when you dispatch nothing
but empty ships and somebody's hopes? Shall we not embark? {44} Shall we not
now, if never before, go forth ourselves, and provide at least some small
proportion of Athenian soldiers? Shall we not sail to the enemy's country? But I
heard the question, 'At what point on his coast are we to anchor?' The war
itself, men of Athens, if you take it in hand, will discover his weak points:
but if we sit at home listening to the mutual abuse and recriminations of our
orators, you can never realize any of the results that you ought to realize.
{45} I believe that whenever any portion of Athens is sent with the forces, even
if the whole city does not go, the favour of Heaven and of Fortune fights on our
side. But whenever you dispatch anywhere a general with an empty resolution and
some platform-hopes to support him, then you achieve nothing that you ought to
achieve, your enemies laugh at you, and your allies are in deadly fear of all
such armaments. {46} It is impossible, utterly impossible, that any one man
should be able to effect all that you wish for you. He can give undertakings and
promises;[n] he can accuse this man and that; and the result is that your
fortunes are ruined. For when the general is at the head of wretched, unpaid
mercenaries, and when there are those in Athens who lie to you light-heartedly
about all that he does, and, on the strength of the tales that you hear, you
pass decrees at random, what _must_ you expect?
{47} How then can this state of things be terminated? Only, men of Athens, when
you expressly make the same men soldiers, witnesses of their general's actions,
and judges at his examination[n] when they return home; for then the issue of
your fortunes will not be a tale which you hear, but a thing which you will be
on the spot to see. So shameful is the pass which matters have now reached, that
each of your generals is tried for his life before you two or three times, but
does not dare to fight in mortal combat with the enemy even once. They prefer
the death of kidnappers and brigands to that of a general. {48} For it is a
felon's death, to die by sentence of the court: the death of a general is to
fall in battle with the enemy. Some of us go about saying that Philip is
negotiating with Sparta[n] for the overthrow of the Thebans and the breaking up
of the free states; others, that he has sent ambassadors to the king;[n] others,
that he is fortifying cities in Illyria. {49} We all go about inventing each his
own tale. I quite believe, men of Athens, that he is intoxicated with the
greatness of his successes, and entertains many such visions in his mind; for he
sees that there are none to hinder him, and he is elated at his achievements.
But I do not believe that he has chosen to act in such a way that the most
foolish persons in Athens can know what he intends to do; for no persons are so
foolish as newsmongers. {50} But if we dismiss all such tales, and attend only
to the certainty--that the man is our enemy, that he is robbing us of our own,
that he has insulted us for a long time, that all that we ever expected any one
to do for us has proved to be against us, that the future is in our own hands,
that if we will not fight him now in his own country we shall perhaps be obliged
to do so in ours--if, I say, we are assured of this, then we shall have made up
our minds aright, and shall be quit of idle words. For you have not to speculate
what the future may be: you have only to be assured that the future must be
evil, unless you give heed and are ready to do your duty.
{51} Well, I have never yet chosen to gratify you by saying anything which I
have not felt certain would be for your good; and to-day I have spoken freely
and without concealment, just what I believe. I could wish to be as sure of the
good that a speaker will gain by giving you the best advice as of that which you
will gain by listening to him. I should then have been far happier than I am. As
it is, I do not know what will happen to me, for what I have said: but I have
chosen to speak in the sure conviction that if you carry out my proposals, it
will be for your good; and may the victory rest with that policy which will be
for the good of all!
THE OLYNTHIAC ORATIONS (OR. I-III)
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[_Introduction_. It has already been noticed that when Philip took Amphipolis in
357 B.C., the Olynthians made overtures to the Athenians, with whom they had
been at war for some years, and that, being rejected, they became allies of
Philip, who gave them Anthemus and Poteidaea. In 352, alarmed at Philip's
growing power, they once more applied to Athens. Peace was made, and
negotiations began with regard to an alliance. In 351 Philip appeared in the
territory of Olynthus. He did not, however, at once carry the invasion further,
but took pains, during this year and the next, to foster a Macedonian party in
the town. In 349 Philip virtually declared war on the Olynthians by demanding
the surrender of his step-brother Arrhidaeus, who had taken refuge with them.
The Olynthians again appealed to Athens; an alliance was made; Chares was sent
with thirty ships and 2,000 mercenaries, but seems to have mismanaged the war by
misfortune or by design. Probably he had been badly supplied with funds, and
instead of helping Olynthus, resorted to acts of piracy to satisfy his men. The
Macedonian troops proceeded to take Stageira and other towns of the Olynthian
League, though Philip still professed to have no hostile intentions against
Olynthus (see Phil. III, Sec. ii). Chares was recalled and put on his trial; and,
probably in response to a further message from Olynthus, Charidemus was
transferred thither from the Hellespont. With a considerable mercenary force at
his disposal, Charidemus overran Pallene and Bottiaea, and did some damage to
Philip's territory, but afterwards gave himself up to dissipation in Olynthus.
In the meantime, some of the Thessalians had become restless under Philip's
supremacy (see Olynth. I, Sec. 22, II, Sec. ii), and he was obliged to undertake an
expedition to suppress the revolt, and to put down Peitholaus (who had
apparently become tyrant of Pherae once more, though he had been expelled in
352). But early in 348 he appeared in person in Chalcidice, and took one after
another of the towns of the League, including Mecyberna the port of Olynthus,
and Torone. He thrice defeated the Olynthians in battle, and at last obtained
possession of Olynthus itself by the treachery of Euthycrates and Lasthenes, the
commanders of the Olynthian cavalry.
Athens had probably been occupied during the early part of the year [1] with an
expedition which she sent (against the advice of Demosthenes) to help Plutarchus
of Eretria to repel attacks which were partly, at least, instigated by Philip;
and in consequence she had done little for Olynthus, though on a request of the
Olynthians for cavalry, she had ordered some of those which had been sent to
Euboea to go to Olynthus, and these may have been the Athenians whom Philip
captured in that city. The seventeen ships, 2,000 infantry, and 300 cavalry (all
citizens), which Athens dispatched under Chares in response to a last urgent
appeal from Olynthus, were delayed by storms and arrived too late. Philip
entirely destroyed Olynthus and thirty-two other towns, sold their inhabitants
into slavery, brought the whole of Chalcidice within the Macedonian Empire, and
celebrated his conquests by a festival in honour of the Olympian Zeus at Dium.
The First Olynthiac Oration was delivered before Olynthus itself was attacked or
any other towns actually taken (Olynth. I, Sec. 17); and both the First and Second
before the discontent with Philip in Thessaly had taken an active form (I, Sec. 22,
II, Sec. 7). Both, that is, belong to the summer of 349, and the situation implied
is very much the same in both. The First was perhaps spoken when the Olynthians
first appealed to Athens in that year, before the mission of Chares; the Second,
to counteract the effect of something which had caused despondency in Athens
(possibly the conduct of the Athenian generals, or the account given by other
orators of Philip's power). In both Demosthenes urges the importance of
resisting Philip while he is still far away, and of sending, not mercenaries,
but a citizen-army; and while hinting at what he regards as the true solution of
the financial difficulty, proposes a special war-tax. The solution which he
thinks the right one is more explicitly described in the Third Olynthiac, spoken
(probably [Footnote: See note on Olynth. III, Section 4]) in the autumn of the
same year, and certainly at a time when the situation had become much more
grave. The root of the financial difficulty lay in the existence of a law which
prohibited (evidently under severe penalties, Olynth. III, Section 12) any
proposal to devote to military purposes that portion of the revenues which
constituted the 'Festival' or 'Theoric Fund', and was for the most part
distributed to the citizens to enable them to take part in the public festivals,
and so join in fulfilling what was no doubt a religious duty as well as a
pleasure. This particular form of expenditure is stated to have been introduced
by the demagogue Agyrrhius in 394, when it revived in an extended form a
distribution of theatre money instituted late in the fifth century by Cleophon;
but the special law in question appears to have been of recent date (Olynth.
III, Section 12), and was almost certainly the work of Eubulus and his party.
Demosthenes himself proposes an extraordinary Legislative Commission, to repeal
the mischievous laws and leave the way clear for financial reform. At the same
time he attacks the whole policy of Eubulus, charging him with distributing
doles without regard to public service, adding to the amenities of Athens
instead of maintaining her honour in war, and enriching her politicians while
degrading her people. The main object of the speech was unsuccessful; and just
about this time (though whether before or after the speech is disputed)
Apollodorus proposed that the people should decide whether the surplus revenues
should go to the Festival Fund, or be applied to military purposes, and was
heavily fined for the illegality of the proposal.
The Three Olynthiacs rank high among the Orations of Demosthenes. Some passages,
indeed, show that he had hardly as yet appreciated the genius of Philip, or the
unlikelihood of his making a false move either through over-confidence or
because he had come to the end of his resources. But the noble patriotism of the
speaker, the lofty tone of his political reflections, the clearness of his
diagnosis of the evils of his time, and the fearlessness of his appeal for loyal
and united self-sacrifice, are nowhere more conspicuous.]
THE FIRST OLYNTHIAC
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{1} I believe, men of Athens, that you would give a great sum to know what
policy, in reference to the matter which you are now considering, will best
serve the interests of the city, and since that is so, you ought to be ready and
eager to listen to those who desire to give you their advice. For not only can
you hear and accept any useful proposals which a speaker may have thought out
before he came here; but such, I conceive, is your fortune, that the right
suggestion will often occur to some of those present on the spur of the moment;
and out of all these suggestions it should be easy for you to choose the most
advantageous course.
{2} The present time, men of Athens, seems almost to cry aloud that you must
take matters into your own hands yonder, if you have any interest in a
successful termination of the crisis: and yet our attitude appears to be--I do
not know what. My own opinion, at all events, is that you should at once resolve
to send this assistance; that you should prepare for the departure of the
expedition at the first possible moment--you must not fall victims to the same
error as before--and that you should dispatch an embassy to announce our
intention, and to be present at the scene of action. {3} For what we have most
to fear is this--that he, with his unscrupulous cleverness in taking advantage
of circumstances--now, it may be, by making concessions; now by uttering
threats, which he may well seem likely to fulfil; now by misrepresenting
ourselves and our absence from the scene--may turn and wrest to his own
advantage some of the vital elements of our power. {4} And yet it may fairly be
said, men of Athens, that our best hope lies in that very circumstance which
renders Philip's power so hard to grapple with. The fact that the entire control
over everything, open or secret,[n] is concentrated in the hands of a single
man; that he is at one and the same time general, master, and treasurer; that he
is always present in person with his army--all this is a great advantage, in so
far as military operations must be prompt and well-timed. But as regards the
compact which he would so gladly make with the Olynthians, the effect is just
the reverse. {5} For the Olynthians know well that they are not fighting now for
honour and glory, nor for a strip of territory, but to avert the devastation and
enslavement of their country. They know how he treated[n] those who betrayed to
him their city at Amphipolis, and those who received him at Pydna; and it is, I
imagine, universally true that tyranny is a faithless friend to a free state,
and that most of all, when they occupy adjoining territories. {6} With this
knowledge, men of Athens, and with all the reflections that the occasion calls
for in your minds, I say that now, if ever before, you must make your resolve,
rouse all your energies, and give your minds to the war: you must contribute
gladly, you must go forth in person, you must leave nothing undone. There is no
longer any reason or excuse remaining, which can justify you in refusing to do
your duty. {7} For every one was but recently harping on the desirability of
exciting Olynthus to war with Philip; and this has now come to pass of itself,
and in the way which most completely suits your interests. Had they taken up the
war because you had persuaded them to do so, their alliance might perhaps have
been precarious, and their resolution might only have carried them a certain
way. But now their detestation of Philip is based upon grievances which affect
themselves; and we may suppose that a hostility which is occasioned by their own
fears and sufferings will be a lasting one. {8} Since, therefore, men of Athens,
such an opportunity has been thrown in your way, you must not let it go, nor
fall victims to the mistake from which you have often suffered before. If, for
instance, when we had returned from our expedition in aid of the Euboeans,[n]
and Hierax and Stratocles came from Amphipolis and stood upon this platform and
urged us to sail and take over the city; if, I say, we had continued to display
in our own interest the eagerness which we displayed in the deliverance of the
Euboeans, you would have kept Amphipolis then, and we should have been free from
all the trouble that we have had since. {9} And again, when news kept coming of
the investment of Pydna, Poteidaea, Methone, Pagasae, and all the other places--
I will not stay to enumerate them all--if we had acted at once, and had gone to
the rescue of the first place attacked, with the energy which we ought to have
shown, we should now have found Philip much less proud and difficult to deal
with. As it is, we are always sacrificing the present, always fancying that the
future will turn out well of itself; and so we have raised Philip to a position
of such importance as no king of Macedonia has ever before attained. {10} And
now an opportunity has come to Athens, in this crisis at Olynthus, as great as
any of those former ones: and I believe, men of Athens, that one who was to draw
up a true account of the blessings which have been given us by the gods, would,
in spite of much that is not as it should be, find great cause for thankfulness
to them; and naturally so. For our many losses in the war must in fairness be
set down to our own indifference; but that we did not suffer such losses long
ago, and that an alliance has presented itself to us, which, if we will only
take advantage of it, will act as a counterpoise to them--all this I, for one,
should set down as a favour due to their goodness towards us. But it is, I
imagine, in politics, as it is in money-making. {11} If a man is able to keep
all that he gets, he is abundantly grateful to Fortune; but if he loses it all
before he is aware, he loses with it his memory of Fortune's kindness. So it is
in politics. When men have not made a right use of their opportunities, they do
not remember any good that heaven may actually have granted them: for it is by
the ultimate issue that men estimate all that they have enjoyed before.
Therefore, men of Athens, you must pay the very utmost heed to the future, that
by the better use you make of it, you may wipe out the dishonour of the past.
{12} But if you sacrifice these men also, men of Athens, and Philip in
consequence reduces Olynthus to subjection, I ask any of you to tell me what is
to prevent him from marching where he pleases. Is there a man among you, men of
Athens, who considers or studies the steps by which Philip, weak enough at
first, has become so strong? First he took Amphipolis, next Pydna, then again
Poteidaea, and then Methone. Next he set foot in Thessaly. {13} Then when
Pherae, Pagasae, Magnesia[n] were secured for his purposes, just as it suited
him, he departed to Thrace. In Thrace, after expelling one prince and setting up
another, he fell ill. When he grew easier again, he showed no inclination to
take things easily, but at once attacked the Olynthians[n]--and I am passing
over his campaigns against the Illyrians and the Paeonians, against Arybbas,[n]
and in every possible direction.
{14} Why, I may be asked, do I mention these things at the present moment? I
wish you to understand, men of Athens, and to realize these two points: first,
the unprofitableness of perpetually sacrificing your interests one by one; and,
secondly, the restless activity which is a part of Philip's very being, and
which will not allow him to content himself with his achievements and remain at
peace. For if it is to be his fixed resolve, that he must always be aiming at
something greater than he has yet attained; and ours, that we will never set
ourselves resolutely to work; ask yourselves what you can expect to be the end
of the matter. {15} In God's name, is there one of you so innocent as not to
know that the war will be transferred from Olynthus to Attica, if we pay no
heed? But if that happens, men of Athens, I fear that we shall be like men who
light-heartedly borrow at a high rate of interest, and after a brief period of
affluence, lose even their original estate; that like them we shall find that
our carelessness has cost us dear; that through making pleasure our standard in
everything, we shall find ourselves driven to do many of those unpleasant things
which we wished to avoid, and shall find our position even in our own country
imperilled.
{16} I may be told that it is easy to criticize--any one can do that; but that a
political adviser is expected to offer some practical proposal to meet the
existing situation. Now I am well aware, men of Athens, that in the event of any
disappointment, it is not upon those who are responsible that your anger falls,
but upon those who have spoken last upon the subject in question. Yet I do not
think that consideration for my own safety should lead me to conceal my
conviction as to the course which your interests demand. {17} I say then that
there are two things which you must do to save the situation. You must rescue
these towns [n] for the Olynthians, and send troops to accomplish this: and you
must damage Philip's country with your ships and with a second body of troops.
{18} If you neglect either of these things, our campaign, I greatly fear, will
be in vain. For suppose that you inflict damage on his country, and that he
allows you to do so, while he reduces Olynthus; he will have no difficulty in
repelling you when he returns. Suppose, on the other hand, that you only go to
the help of Olynthus; he will see that he has nothing to fear at home, and so he
will sit down before the town and remain at his task, until time enables him to
get the better of the besieged. The expedition, therefore, must be large, and it
must be in two parts.
Such is my view with regard to the expedition. {19} As to the sources of supply,
you have funds, men of Athens--funds larger than any one else in the world; but
you appropriate these without scruple, just as you choose. Now if you will
assign these to your troops, you need no further supplies: otherwise, not only
do you need further supplies--you are destitute of supplies altogether. 'Well'
(does someone say?), 'do you move that this money should form a war-fund?' I
assure you that I make no such motion. {20} For while I do indeed believe that a
force ought to be made ready [and that this money should form a war-fund], and
that the receipt of money should be connected, as part of one and the same
system, with the performance of duty; you, on the contrary, think it right to
take the money, after your present fashion, for your festivals, and spare
yourselves trouble. And therefore, I suppose, our only resource is a general
tax--larger or smaller, according to the amount required. In any case, we need
funds, and without funds nothing can be done that we ought to do. Various other
sources of supply are suggested by different persons. Choose whichever you think
best of these, and get to work, while you have the opportunity.
{21} It is worth while to remember and to take into account the nature of
Philip's position at this moment. For neither are his affairs at present in such
good order, or in so perfectly satisfactory a state, as might appear to any but
a careful observer; nor would he ever have commenced this present war, if he had
thought that he would really have to fight. He hoped at first that by his mere
advance he would carry all before him; and he has since discovered his mistake.
This disappointment, then, is the first thing which disturbs him and causes him
great despondency: {22} and next there is the disposition of the Thessalians,
naturally inconstant as we know it has always been found by all men; and what it
has always been, that, in the highest degree, Philip finds it now. For they have
formally resolved to demand from him the restitution of Pagasae; they have
prevented him from fortifying Magnesia, and I myself heard it stated that they
intend even to refuse him the enjoyment of their harbour and market dues for the
future. These, they say, should go to maintain the public administration of
Thessaly, instead of being taken by Philip. But if he is deprived of these
funds, the resources from which he must maintain his mercenaries will be reduced
to the narrowest limits. {23} Nay, more: we must surely suppose that the
chieftains of the Paeonians and Illyrians, and in fact all such personages--
would prefer freedom to slavery; for they are not accustomed to obey orders, and
the man, they say, is a bully. Heaven knows, there is nothing incredible in the
statement. Unmerited success is to foolish minds a fountain-head of perversity,
so that it is often harder for men to keep the good they have, than it was to
obtain it. {24} It is for you then, men of Athens, to regard his difficulty as
your opportunity, to take up your share of the burden with readiness, to send
embassies to secure all that is required, to join the forces yourselves, and to
stir up every one else to do so. Only consider what would happen, if Philip got
such an opportunity to strike at us, and there was war on our frontier. Can you
not imagine how readily he would march against us? Does it arouse no shame in
you, that, when you have the opportunity, you should not dare to do to him even
as much as you would have to suffer, were he able to inflict it?
{25} There is a further point, men of Athens, which must not escape you. I mean
that you have now to choose whether you are to carry on war yonder, or whether
he is to do so in your own country. If the resistance of Olynthus is maintained,
you will fight there and will inflict damage on Philip's territory, while you
remain secure in the enjoyment of this land of your own which you now possess.
But if Philip captures Olynthus, who is to hinder him from marching to Athens?
The Thebans? {26} It seems, I fear, too bitter a thing to say; but they will be
glad to join him in the invasion. The Phocians? They cannot protect their own
country, unless you go to their aid, or some other power. 'But, my good Sir,'[n]
you say, 'he will not want to march here.' And yet it would be one of the
strangest things in the world, if, when he has the power, he does not carry out
the threats, which he now blurts out in spite of the folly that they show. {27}
But I suppose that I need not even point out how vast is the difference between
war here and war in his country. For had you to camp outside the walls
yourselves, for only thirty days, and to take from the country such things as
men in camp must have--and I am assuming that there is no enemy in the country--
I believe that the loss your farmers would suffer would exceed your whole
expenditure on the war up to the present time. What then must we think will be
the extent of our loss, if ever war comes to our doors? And besides the loss
there is his insolence, and the shame of our position, which to right-minded men
is as serious as any loss.
{28} When you take a comprehensive view of these things you must all go to the
rescue and stave the war off yonder; you who are well-to-do, in order that, with
a small expense in defence of the great fortunes which you quite rightly enjoy,
you may reap the benefit of the remainder without fear; you who are of military
age, that you may gain your experience of war in Philip's country, and so become
formidable guardians of a fatherland unspoiled; and your orators, that they may
find it easy to render an account of their public life; for your judgement upon
their conduct will itself depend upon the position in which you find yourselves.
And may that be a happy one, on every ground!
THE SECOND OLYNTHIAC
(Back To Top)
{1} Many as are the occasions, men of Athens, on which we may discern the
manifestation of the goodwill of Heaven towards this city, one of the most
striking is to be seen in the circumstances of the present time. For that men
should have been found to carry on war against Philip; men whose territory
borders on his and who possess some power; men, above all, whose sentiments in
regard to the war are such that they think of the proposed compact with him, not
only as untrustworthy, but as the very ruin of their country--this seems to be
certainly the work of a superhuman, a divine, beneficence. {2} And so, men of
Athens, we must take care that we do not treat ourselves less well than
circumstances have treated us. For it is a shameful thing--nay, it is the very
depth of shame--to throw away openly, not only cities and places which were once
in our power, but even the allies and the opportunities which have been provided
for us by Fortune.
{3} Now to describe at length the power of Philip, men of Athens, and to incite
you to the performance of your duty by such a recital, is not, I think, a
satisfactory proceeding; and for this reason--that while all that can be said on
this subject tends to Philip's glory, it is a story of failure on our part. For
the greater the extent to which his success surpasses his deserts, the greater
is the admiration with which the world regards him; while, for your part, the
more you have fallen short of the right use of your opportunities, the greater
is the disgrace that you have incurred. {4} I will therefore pass over such
considerations. For any honest inquirer must see that the causes of Philip's
rise to greatness lie in Athens, and not in himself. Of the services for which
he has to thank those whose policy is determined by his interest--services for
which you ought to require their punishment--the present is not, I see, the
moment to speak. But apart from these, there are things which may be said, and
which it is better that you should all have heard--things which (if you will
examine them aright) constitute a grave reproach against him; and these I will
try to tell you.
{5} If I called him perjured and faithless, without giving his actions in
evidence, my words would be treated as idle abuse, and rightly: and it happens
that to review all his actions up to the present time, and to prove the charge
in every case, requires only a short speech. It is well, I think, that the story
should be told, for it will serve two purposes; first, to make plain the real
badness of the man's character; and secondly, to let those who are over-alarmed
at Philip, as if he were invincible, see that he has come to the end of all
those forms of deceit by which he rose to greatness, and that his career is
already drawing to its close. {6} For I, too, men of Athens, should be regarding
Philip with intense fear and admiration, if I saw that his rise was the result
of a righteous policy. {7} But when I study and consider the facts, I find that
originally, when certain persons wished to drive from your presence the
Olynthians who desired to address you from this place, Philip won over our
innocent minds by saying that he would deliver up Amphipolis to us, and by
inventing the famous secret understanding; that he afterwards conciliated the
Olynthians by seizing Poteidaea, which was yours, and injuring their former
allies by handing it over to themselves; and that, last of all, he recently won
over the Thessalians, by promising to give up Magnesia to them, and undertaking
to carry on the war with the Phocians on their behalf. There is absolutely no
one who has ever had dealings with him that he has not deluded; and it is by
deceiving and winning over, one after another, those who in their blindness did
not realize what he was, that he has risen as he has done. {8} And therefore,
just as it was by these deceptions that he rose to greatness, in the days when
each people fancied that he intended to do some service to themselves; so it is
these same deceptions which should drag him down again, now that he stands
convicted of acting for his own ends throughout. Such, then, is the crisis, men
of Athens, to which Philip's fortunes have now come. If it is not so, let any
one come forward and show me (or rather you) that what I say is untrue; or that
those who have been deceived at the outset trust him as regards the future; or
that those who have been brought into unmerited bondage would not gladly be
free.
{9} But if any of you, while agreeing with me so far, still fancies that Philip
will maintain his hold by force, because he has already occupied fortified posts
and harbours and similar positions, he is mistaken. When power is cemented by
goodwill, and the interest of all who join in a war is the same, then men are
willing to share the labour, to endure the misfortunes, and to stand fast. But
when a man has become strong, as Philip has done, by a grasping and wicked
policy, the first excuse, the least stumble, throws him from his seat and
dissolves the alliance. {10} It is impossible, men of Athens, utterly
impossible, to acquire power that will last, by unrighteousness, by perjury, and
by falsehood. Such power holds out for a moment, or for a brief hour; it
blossoms brightly, perhaps, with fair hopes; but time detects the fraud, and the
flower falls withered about its stem. In a house or a ship, or any other
structure, it is the foundations that must be strongest; and no less, I believe,
must the principles, which are the foundation of men's actions, be those of
truth and righteousness. Such qualities are not to be seen to-day in the past
acts of Philip.
{11} I say, then, that we should help the Olynthians; and the best and quickest
method which can be proposed is the method which I approve. Further, we should
send an embassy to the Thessalians--to some, to inform them of our intention; to
others, to spur them on; for even now they have resolved to demand the
restitution of Pagasae, and to make representations in regard to Magnesia. {12}
Take care, however, men of Athens, that our envoys may not only have words to
speak, but also actions of yours to point to. Let it be seen that you have gone
forth in a manner that is worthy of Athens, and are already in action. Words
without the reality must always appear a vain and empty thing, and above all
when they come from Athens; for the more we seem to excel in the glib use of
such language, the more it is distrusted by every one. {13} The change, then,
which is pointed out to them must be great, the conversion striking. They must
see you paying your contributions, marching to war, doing everything with a
will, if any of them is to listen to you. And if you resolve to accomplish all
this in very deed, as it should be accomplished, not only will the feeble and
untrustworthy nature of Philip's alliances be seen, but the weakness of his own
empire and power will also be detected.
{14} The power and empire of Macedonia is, indeed, to speak generally, an
element which tells considerably as an addition to any other power. You found it
so when it helped you against the Olynthians in the days of Timotheus;[n] the
Olynthians in their turn found its help of some value, in combination with their
own strength, against Poteidaea; and it has recently come to the aid of the
Thessalians, in their disordered and disturbed condition, against the ruling
dynasty: and wherever even a small addition is made to a force, it helps in
every way. {15} But in itself the Macedonian Empire is weak and full of manifold
evils. Philip has in fact rendered his own tenure of it even more precarious
than it naturally was, by these very wars and campaigns which might be supposed
to prove his power. For you must not imagine, men of Athens, that Philip and his
subjects delight in the same things. Philip has a passion for glory--that is his
ambition; and he has deliberately chosen to risk the consequences of a life of
action and danger, preferring the glory of achieving more than any King of
Macedonia before him to a life of security. {16} But his subjects have no share
in the honour and glory. Constantly battered about by all these expeditions, up
and down, they are vexed with incessant hardships: they are not suffered to
pursue their occupations or attend to their own affairs: for the little that
they produce, as best they can, they can find no market, the trading stations of
the country being closed on account of the war. {17} From these facts it is not
difficult to discover the attitude of the Macedonians in general towards Philip;
and as for the mercenaries and Infantry of the Guard who surround him, though
they have the reputation of being a fine body of well-drilled warriors, I am
told by a man who has been in Macedonia, and who is incapable of falsehood, that
they are no better than any other body of men. {18} Granted that there may be
experienced campaigners and fighters among them; yet, he tells me, Philip is so
jealous of honour, that he thrusts all such men away from him, in his anxiety to
get the credit of every achievement for himself; for in addition to all his
other qualities, his jealousy is insurpassable. On the other hand, any generally
temperate or upright man, who cannot endure the dissolute life there, day by
day, nor the drunkenness and the lewd revels, is thrust on one side and counts
for nothing. {19} Thus he is left with brigands and flatterers, and men who,
when in their cups, indulge in dances of a kind which I shrink from naming to
you now. And it is evident that this report is true; for men whom every one
tried to drive out of Athens, as far viler than even the very juggler in the
street--Callias the public slave and men like him, players of farces, composers
of indecent songs, written at the expense of their companions in the hope of
raising a laugh--these are the men he likes and keeps about him. {20} You may
think that these are trivial things, men of Athens: but they are weighty, in the
judgement of every right-minded man, as illustrations of the temper with which
Philip is cursed. At present, I suppose, these facts are overshadowed by his
continual prosperity. Success has a wonderful power of throwing a veil over
shameful things like these. But let him only stumble, and then all these
features in his character will be displayed in their true light. And I believe,
men of Athens, that the revelation is not far off, if Heaven be willing and you
desirous of it. {21} So long as a man is in good health, he is unconscious of
any weakness; but if any illness comes upon him, the disturbance affects every
weak point, be it a rupture or a sprain or anything else that is unsound in his
constitution. And as with the body, so it is with a city or a tyrant. So long as
they are at war abroad, the mischief is hidden from the world at large, but the
close grapple of war on the frontier brings all to light.
{22} Now if any of you, men of Athens, seeing Philip's good fortune, thinks that
this makes him a formidable enemy to fight against, he reasons like a sensible
man: for fortune weighs heavily in the scale--nay, fortune is everything, in all
human affairs. And yet, if I were given the choice, it is the fortune of Athens
that I should choose, rather than that of Philip, provided that you yourselves
are willing to act even to a small extent as you should act. For I see that
there are far more abundant grounds for expecting the goodwill of Heaven on your
side than on his. {23} But here, of course, we are sitting idle; and one who is
a sluggard himself cannot require his friends to help him, much less the gods.
It is not to be wondered at that Philip, who goes on campaigns and works hard
himself, and is always at the scene of action, and lets no opportunity go, no
season pass, should get the better of us who delay and pass resolutions and ask
for news; nor do I wonder at it. It is the opposite that would have been
wonderful--if we, who do nothing that those who are at war ought to do, were
successful against one who leaves nothing undone. {24} But this I do wonder at,
that you who once raised your hand against Sparta, in defence of the rights of
the Hellenes--you, who with opportunities often open to you for grasping large
advantages for yourselves, would not take them, but to secure for others their
rights spent your own fortunes in war-contributions, and always bore the brunt
of the dangers of the campaign--that you, I say, are now shrinking from
marching, and hesitating to make any contribution to save your own possessions;
and that, though you have often saved the rest of the Hellenes, now all together
and now each in their turn, you are sitting idle, when you have lost what was
your own. {25} I wonder at this; and I wonder also, men of Athens, that none of
you is able to reckon up the time during which you have been fighting with
Philip, and to consider what you have been doing while all this time has been
going by. Surely you must know that it is while we have been delaying, hoping
that some one else would act, accusing one another, bringing one another to
trial, hoping anew--in fact, doing practically what we are doing now--that all
the time has passed. {26} And have you now so little sense, men of Athens, as to
hope that the very same policy, which has made the position of the city a bad
one instead of a good, will actually make it a good one instead of a bad? Why,
it is contrary both to reason and to nature to think so! It is always much
easier to retain than to acquire. But now, owing to the war, none of our old
possessions is left for us to retain; and so we must needs acquire. {27} This,
therefore, is our own personal and immediate duty; and accordingly I say that
you must contribute funds, you must go on service in person with a good will,
you must accuse no one before you have become masters of the situation; and then
you must honour those who deserve praise, and punish the guilty, with a
judgement based upon the actual facts. You must get rid of all excuses and all
deficiencies on your own part; you cannot examine mercilessly the actions of
others, unless you yourselves have done all that your duty requires. {28} For
why is it, do you think, men of Athens, that all the generals whom you dispatch
avoid this war,[n] and discover private wars of their own--if a little of the
truth must be told even about the generals? It is because in this war the prizes
for which the war is waged are yours, and if they are captured, you will take
them immediately for your own; but the dangers are the personal privilege of
your commanders, and no pay is forthcoming: while in those wars the dangers are
less, and the profits--Lampsacus, Sigeum, and the ships which they plunder--go
to the commanders and their men. Each force therefore takes the road that leads
to its own advantage. {29} For your part, when you turn your attention to the
serious condition of your affairs, you first bring the commanders to trial; and
then, when you have given them a hearing, and have been told of the difficulties
which I have described, you acquit them. The result, therefore, is that while
you are quarrelling with one another and broken into factions-one party
persuaded of this, another of that--the public interest suffers. You used, men
of Athens, to pay taxes by Boards:[n] to-day you conduct your politics by
Boards. On either side there is an orator as leader, and a general under him;
and for the Three Hundred, there are those who come to shout. The rest of you
distribute yourselves between the two parties, some on either side. {30} This
system you must give up: you must even now become your own masters; you must
give to all alike their share in discussion, in speech and in action. If you
assign to one body of men the function of issuing orders to you, like tyrants;
to another, that of compulsory service as trierarchs or tax-payers or soldiers;
and to another, only that of voting their condemnation, without taking any share
in the labour, nothing that ought to be done will be done in time. For the
injured section will always be in default, and you will only have the privilege
of punishing them instead of the enemy. {31} To sum up, all must contribute,
each according to his wealth, in a fair proportion: all must go on active
service in turn, until you have all served: you must give a hearing to all who
come forward, and choose the best course out of all that you hear--not the
course proposed by this or that particular person. If you do this, you will not
only commend the proposer of that course at the time, but you will commend
yourselves hereafter, for the whole position of your affairs will be a better
one.
THE THIRD OLYNTHIAC
(Back To Top)
{1} Very different reflections suggest themselves to my mind, I men of Athens,
when I turn my eyes to our real situation, and when I think of the speeches that
I hear. For I observe that the speeches are all concerned with the taking of
vengeance upon Philip; whereas in reality matters have gone so far, that we have
to take care that we are not ourselves the first to suffer: so that those who
speak of vengeance are actually, as it seems to me, suggesting to you a false
conception of the situation which you are discussing. {2} That there was a time
when the city could both keep her own possessions in safety, and punish Philip,
I am very well aware. For it was not long ago, but within my own lifetime, that
both these things were so. But I am convinced that it is now quite enough for us
as a first step to make sure of the preservation of our allies. If this is
safely secured, we shall then be able to consider upon whom vengeance is to
fall, and in what way. But until the first step is properly conceived, I
consider it idle to say anything whatever about the last.
{3} If ever the most anxious deliberation was required, it is required in the
present crisis; and my greatest difficulty is not to know what is the proper
advice to give you in regard to the situation: I am at a loss rather to know,
men of Athens, in what manner I should address you in giving it. For I am
convinced by what I have heard with my own ears in this place that, for the most
part, the objects of our policy have slipped from our grasp, not because we do
not understand what our duty is, but because we will not do it; and I ask you to
suffer me, if I speak without reserve, and to consider only whether I speak
truly, and with this object in view--that the future may be better than the
past. For you see that it is because certain speakers make your gratification
the aim of their addresses, that things have gone on getting worse, till at last
the extremity has been reached.
{4} I think it necessary, first, to remind you of a few of the events which have
taken place. You remember, men of Athens, that two or three years ago[n] the
news came that Philip was in Thrace, besieging Heraeon Teichos. That was in the
month of November. Amidst all the discussion and commotion which took place in
this Assembly, you passed a resolution that forty warships should be launched,
that men under forty-five years of age should embark in person, and that we
should pay a war-tax of 60 talents. {5} That year came to an end, and there
followed July, August, September. In the latter month, after the Mysteries,[n]
and with reluctance, you dispatched Charidemus[n] with ten ships, carrying no
soldiers, and 5 talents of silver. For so soon as news had come that Philip was
sick or dead--both reports were brought--you dismissed the armament, men of
Athens, thinking that there was no longer any occasion for the expedition. But
it was the very occasion; for had we then gone to the scene of action with the
same enthusiasm which marked our resolution to do so, Philip would not have been
preserved to trouble us to-day. {6} What was done then cannot be altered. But
now a critical moment in another campaign has arrived; and it is in view of
this, and to prevent you from falling into the same error, that I have recalled
these facts. How then shall we use this opportunity, men of Athens? For unless
you will go to the rescue 'with might and main to the utmost of your power',[n]
mark how in every respect you will have served Philip's interest by your conduct
of the war. {7} At the outset the Olynthians possessed considerable strength,
and such was the position of affairs, that neither did Philip feel safe against
them, nor they against Philip. We made peace with them, and they with us. It was
as it were a stumbling-block in Philip's path, and an annoyance to him, that a
great city which had made a compact with us should sit watching for any
opportunity he might offer. We thought that we ought to excite them to war with
him by every means; and now this much-talked-of event has come to pass--by what
means, I need not relate. {8} What course then is open to us, men of Athens, but
to go to their aid resolutely and eagerly? I can see none. Apart from the shame
in which we should be involved, if we let anything be lost through our
negligence, I can see, men of Athens, that the subsequent prospect would be
alarming in no small degree, when the attitude of the Thebans towards us is what
it is, when the funds of the Phocians are exhausted,[n] and when there is no one
to prevent Philip, so soon as he has made himself master of all that at present
occupies him, from bringing his energies to bear upon the situation further
south. {9} But if any of you is putting off until then his determination to do
his duty, he must be desirous of seeing the terrors of war close at hand, when
he need only hear of them at a distance, and of seeking helpers for himself,
when now he can give help to others. For that this is what it must come to, if
we sacrifice the present opportunity, we must all, I think, be fairly well
aware.
{10} 'But,' some one may say, 'we have all made up our minds that we must go to
their aid, and we will go. Only tell us how we are to do it.' Now do not be
surprised, men of Athens, if I give an answer which will be astonishing to most
of you. You must appoint a Legislative Commission.[n] But when the commissioners
meet, you must not enact a single law--you have laws enough--you must cancel
the laws which, in view of present circumstances, are injurious to you. {11} I
mean the laws which deal with the Festival Fund--to put it quite plainly--and
some of those which deal with military service: for the former distribute your
funds as festival-money to those who remain at home; while the latter give
immunity to malingerers,[n] and thereby also take the heart out of those who
want to do their duty. When you have cancelled these laws, and made the path
safe for one who would give the best advice, then you can look for some one to
propose what you all know to be expedient. {12} But until you have done this,
you must not expect to find a man who will be glad to advise you for the best,
and be ruined by you for his pains; for you will find no one, particularly when
the only result will be that some unjust punishment will be inflicted on the
proposer or mover of such measures, and that instead of helping matters at all,
he will only have made it even more dangerous in future than it is at present to
give you the best advice. Aye, and you should require the repeal of these laws,
men of Athens, from the very persons who proposed them.[n] {13} It is not fair
that those who originally proposed them should enjoy the popularity which was
fraught with such mischief to the whole State, and that the unpopularity, which
would lead to an improvement in the condition of us all, should be visited to
his cost upon one who now advises you for the best. Until you have thus prepared
the way, men of Athens, you must entertain no expectation whatever that any one
will be influential enough here to transgress these laws with impunity, or
senseless enough to fling himself to certain ruin.
{14} At the same time, men of Athens, you must not fail to realize this further
point. No resolution is worth anything, without the willingness to perform at
least what you have resolved, and that heartily. For if decrees by themselves
could either compel you to do what you ought, or could realize their several
objects unaided, you would not be decreeing many things and performing few--nay,
none--of the things that you decree, nor would Philip have insulted you so long.
{15} If decrees could have done it, he would have paid the penalty long ago. But
it is not so. Actions come later than speeches and voting in order of procedure,
but in effectiveness they are before either and stronger than either. It is
action that is still needed; all else you already have. For you have those among
you, men of Athens, who can tell you what your duty is; and no one is quicker
than you are to understand the speaker's bidding. Aye, and you will be able to
carry it out even now, if you act aright. {16} What time, what opportunity, do
you look for, better than the present? When, if not now, will you do your duty?
Has not the man seized every position from us already? If he becomes master of
this country too, will not our fate be the most shameful in the world? And the
men whom we promised to be ready to save, if they went to war--are they not now
at war? {17} Is he not our enemy? Are not our possessions in his hands? Is he
not a barbarian? Is he not anything that you choose to call him? In God's name,
when we have let everything go, when we have all but put everything into his
hands, shall we then inquire at large who is responsible for it all? That we
shall never admit our own responsibility, I am perfectly sure. Just so amid the
perils of war, none of those who have run away accuses himself; he accuses his
general, his neighbour--any one but himself; and yet, I suppose, all who have
run away have helped to cause the defeat. He who now blames the rest might have
stood fast; and if every one had done so, the victory would have been theirs.
{18} And so now, if a particular speaker's advice is not the best, let another
rise and make a proposal, instead of blaming him; and if some other has better
advice to give, carry it out, and good fortune be with you. What? Is the advice
disagreeable? That is no longer the speaker's fault--unless, of course, he
leaves out the prayer that you expect of him. There is no difficulty in the
prayer, men of Athens; a man need only compress all his desires into a short
sentence. But to make his choice, when the question for discussion is one of
practical policy, is by no means equally easy. _Then_ a man is bound to choose
what is best, instead of what is pleasant, if both are not possible at once.
{19} But suppose that some one is able, without touching the Festival Fund, to
suggest other sources of supply for military purposes--is not he the better
adviser? Certainly, men of Athens--if such a thing _is_ possible. But I should
be surprised if it ever has happened or ever should happen to any one to find,
after spending what he has upon wrong objects, that what he has _not_ is wealth
enough to enable him to effect right ones. Such arguments as these find, I
think, their great support in each man's personal desire, and, for that reason,
nothing is easier than to deceive oneself; what a man desires, he actually
fancies to be true. {20} But the reality often follows no such principle.
Consider the matter, therefore, men of Athens, after this fashion; consider in
what way our objects can be realized under the circumstances, and in what way
you will be able to make the expedition and to receive your pay. Surely it is
not like sober or high-minded men to submit light-heartedly to the reproach
which must follow upon any shortcomings in the operations of the war through
want of funds--to seize your weapons and march against Corinthians and
Megareans,[n] and then to allow Philip to enslave Hellenic cities, because you
cannot find rations for your troops.
{21} These words do not spring from a wanton determination to court the ill-will
of any party among you. I am neither so foolish nor so unfortunate as to desire
unpopularity when I do not believe that I am doing any good. But a loyal citizen
ought, in my judgement, to care more for the safety of his country's fortunes
than for the popularity of his utterances. Such, I have heard, and perhaps you
have heard it also, was the principle which the orators of our forefather's time
habitually followed in public life--those orators who are praised by all who
rise to address you, though they are far from imitating them--the great
Aristides, and Nicias, and my own namesake, and Pericles. {22} But ever since
these speakers have appeared who are always asking you, 'what would you like?'
'what may I propose for you?' 'what can I do to please you?' the interests of
the city have been wantonly given away for the sake of the pleasure and
gratification of the moment; and we see the consequences--the fortunes of the
speakers prosper, while your own are in a shameful plight. {23} And yet
consider, men of Athens, the main characteristics of the achievements of your
forefathers' time, and those of your own. The description will be brief and
familiar to you; for you need not have recourse to the history of others, when
your own will furnish examples, by following which you may achieve prosperity.
{24} Our forefathers, who were not courted and caressed by their politicians as
you are by these persons to-day, were leaders of the Hellenes, with their
goodwill, for forty-five years;[n] they brought up into the Acropolis more than
10,000 talents; the king[n] who then ruled Macedonia obeyed them as a foreigner
ought to obey a Hellenic people; serving in person, they set up many glorious
trophies for victories by land and sea; and alone of all mankind they left
behind them, as the crown of their exploits, a fame that is beyond the reach of
envy. {25} Such was the part they played in the Hellenic world: and now
contemplate the manner of men they were in the city, both in public and in
private life. As public men, they gave us buildings and objects of such beauty
and grandeur, in the temples which they built and the offerings which they
dedicated in them, that no room has been left for any of those that come after
to surpass them: while in private life they were so modest, {26} so intensely
loyal to the spirit of the constitution, that if any one actually knows what the
house of Aristides, or Miltiades, or any other of the glorious men of that day,
is like, he can see that it is no more imposing than those of their neighbours.
For it was not to win a fortune that they undertook affairs of State; but each
thought it his duty to add to the common weal. And thus, acting in a spirit of
good faith towards the Hellenes, of piety towards the gods, and of equality
towards one another, they naturally attained great prosperity. {27} Such was the
national life of those times, when those whom I have mentioned were the foremost
men in the State. How do matters stand to-day, thanks to these worthy persons?
Is there any likeness, any resemblance, to old times? Thanks to them (and though
I might say much, I pass over all but this), when we had the field, as you see,
completely open to us--when the Spartans had been ruined,[n] and the Thebans had
their hands full,[n] and no other power could seriously dispute the supremacy
with us on the field of battle--when we could have retained our own possessions
in safety, and have stood as umpires of the rights of others--we have been
deprived of our own territory; {28} we have spent more than 1,500 talents to no
good purpose; the allies whom we had gained in the war,[n] these persons have
lost in time of peace; and we have trained Philip to be the powerful enemy to us
that he is. Let any one rise and tell me how Philip has grown so strong, if we
ourselves are not the source of his strength. {29} 'But, my good Sir,' you say,
'if we are badly off in these respects, we are at any rate better off at home.'
And where is the proof of this? Is it in the whitewashing of the battlements,
the mending of the roads, the fountains, and all such trumperies? Look then at
the men whose policy gives you these things. Some of them who were poor have
become rich; others, who were unknown to fame, have risen to honour; some of
them have provided themselves with private houses more imposing than our public
buildings; and the lower the fortunes of the city have fallen, the higher theirs
have risen.
{30} What is the cause of all these things? Why is it that all was well then,
and all is amiss to-day? It is because then the people itself dared to act and
to serve in the army; and so the people was master of its politicians; all
patronage was in its own hands; any separate individual was content to receive
from the people his share of honour or office or other emolument. The reverse is
now the case. {31} All patronage is in the hands of the politicians, while you,
the people, emasculated, stripped of money and allies, have been reduced to the
position of servile supernumeraries, content if they give you distributions of
festival-money, or organize a procession at the Boedromia;[n] and to crown all
this bravery, you are expected also to thank them for giving you what is your
own. They pen you up closely in the city; they entice you to these delights;
they tame you till you come to their hand. {32} But a high and generous spirit
can never, I believe, be acquired by men whose actions are mean and poor; for
such as a man's practice is, such must his spirit be. And in all solemnity I
should not be surprised if I suffered greater harm at your hands for telling you
the things that I have told you, than the men who have brought them to pass.
Even freedom of speech is not possible on all subjects in this place, and I
wonder that it has been granted me to-day.
{33} If, even now, you will rid yourselves of these habits, if you will resolve
to join the forces and to act worthily of yourselves, converting the
superfluities which you enjoy at home into resources to secure our advantage
abroad, then it may be, men of Athens, it may be, that you will gain some great
and final good, and will be rid of these your perquisites, which are like the
diet that a physician gives a sick man--diet which neither puts strength into
him nor lets him die. For these sums which you now share among yourselves are
neither large enough to give you any adequate assistance, nor small enough to
let you renounce them and go about your business; but these it is that[2]
increase the indolence of every individual among you. {34} 'Is it, then, paid
service that you suggest?'[n] some one will ask. I do, men of Athens; and a
system for immediate enforcement which will embrace all alike; so that each,
while receiving his share of the public funds may supply whatever service the
State requires of him.[3] If we can remain at peace, then he will do better to
stay at home, free from the necessity of doing anything discreditable through
poverty. But if a situation like the present occurs, then supported by these
same sums, he will serve loyally in person, in defence of his country. If a man
is outside the military age, then let him take, in his place among the rest,
that which he now receives irregularly and without doing any service, and let
him act as an overseer and manager of business that must be done. {35} In short,
without adding or subtracting anything,[n] beyond a small sum, and only removing
the want of system, my plan reduces the State to order, making your receipt of
payment, your service in the army or the courts, and your performance of any
duty which the age of each of you allows, and the occasion requires, all part of
one and the same system. But it has been no part of my proposal that we should
assign the due of those who act to those who do nothing; that we should be idle
ourselves and enjoy our leisure helplessly, listening to tales of victories won
by somebody's mercenaries;[n] for this is what happens now. {36} Not that I
blame one who is doing some part of your duty for you; but I require you to do
for yourselves the things for which you honour others, and not to abandon the
position which your fathers won through many a glorious peril, and bequeathed to
you.
I think I have told you all that, in my belief, your interest demands. May you
choose the course which will be for the good of the city and of you all!
FOOTNOTES
(Back To Top)
[1] See notes to Speech on the Peace, Sec. 5. Some date the Euboean expedition and
the sending of the cavalry one or two years earlier, and the whole chronology is
much disputed; but there are strong arguments for the date (348) given in the
text.
[2] [Greek: esti tauta ta].
[3] [Greek: touto parechae].
ON THE PEACE (OR. V)
(Back To Top)
[_Introduction_. After the fall of Olynthus in 348, the Athenians, on the
proposal of Eubulus, sent embassies to the Greek States in the Peloponnese and
elsewhere, to invite them to join in a coalition against Philip. Aeschines went
for this purpose to Megalopolis, and did his best to counteract Philip's
influence in Arcadia. When the embassies proved unsuccessful, it became clear
that peace must be made on such terms as were possible. Philip himself was
anxious for peace, since he wished to cross the Pass of Thermopylae without such
opposition from Athens as he had encountered in 352, and to be free from the
attacks of hostile ships upon his ports. Even before the fall of Olynthus,
informal communications passed between himself and Athens (see Speech on
Embassy, Sec.Sec. 12, 94, 315); and in consequence of these, Philocrates proposed and
the Assembly passed a decree, under which ten ambassadors were appointed to go
to Philip and invite him to send plenipotentiaries to Athens to conclude a
peace. Demosthenes (who had strongly supported Philocrates) was among the ten,
as well as Aeschines and Philocrates himself. Delighted with Philip's reception
of them, and greatly attracted by his personality, the ambassadors returned with
a letter from him, promising in general terms to confer great benefits upon
Athens, if he were granted alliance as well as peace: in the meantime he
undertook not to interfere with the towns allied to Athens in the Chersonese.
Demosthenes proposed (in the Council, of which he was a member in the year 347-
346) the usual complimentary resolution in honour of the ambassadors, and on his
motion it was resolved to hold two meetings of the Assembly, on the 18th and
19th of the month Elaphebolion (i.e. probably just after the middle of April
346), when Philip's envoys would have arrived, to discuss the terms of peace.
The envoys--Antipater, Parmenio, and Eurylochus--reached Athens shortly after
this; and before the first of the two meetings was held, the Synod of the allies
of Athens, now assembled in the city, agreed to peace on such terms as the
Athenian people should decide, but added a proposal that it should be permitted
to any Greek State to become a party to the Peace within three months. They said
nothing of alliance. Of the two meetings of the Assembly, in view of the
conflicting statements of Demosthenes and Aeschines, only a probable account can
be given. At the first, Philocrates proposed that alliance as well as peace
should be made by Athens and her allies with Philip and his allies, on the
understanding that both parties should keep what they _de facto_ possessed--a
provision entailing the renunciation by Athens of Amphipolis and Poteidaea; but
that the Phocians and the people of Halus should be excluded. Aeschines opposed
this strongly; and both he and Demosthenes claim to have supported the
resolution of the allies, which would have given the excluded peoples a chance
of sharing the advantage of the Peace. The feeling of the Assembly was with
them, although the Phocians had recently insulted the Athenians by declining to
give up to Proxenus (the Athenian admiral) the towns guarding the approaches to
Thermopylae, which they had themselves offered to place in the hands of Athens.
But Philocrates obtained the postponement of the decision till the next day. On
the next day, if not before, it became plain that Philip's envoys would not
consent to forgo the exclusion of the Phocians and Halus; but in order that the
Assembly might be induced to pass the resolution, the clause expressly excluding
them was dropped, and peace and alliance were made between Athens and Philip,
each with their allies.[n] Even this was not secured before Aeschines and his
friends had deprecated rash attempts to imitate the exploits of antiquity by
continuing the war, and had explained that Philip could not openly accept the
Phocians as allies, but that when the Peace was concluded, he would satisfy all
the wishes of the Athenians in every way; while Eubulus threatened the people
with immediate war, involving personal service and heavy taxation, unless they
accepted Philocrates' decree. A few days afterwards the Athenians and the
representatives of the allies took the oath to observe the Peace: nothing was
said about the Phocians and Halus: Cersobleptes' representative was probably not
permitted to swear with the rest. The same ten ambassadors as before were
instructed to receive Philip's oath, and the oaths of his allies, to arrange for
the ransom of prisoners, and generally to treat with Philip in the interests of
Athens. Demosthenes urged his colleagues (and obtained an instruction from the
Council to this effect) to sail at once, in order that Philip, who was now in
Thrace, might not make conquests at the expense of Athens before ratifying the
Peace; but they delayed at Oreus, went by land, instead of under the escort of
Proxenus by sea, and only reached Pella (the Macedonian capital) twenty-three
days after leaving Athens. Philip did not arrive for twenty-seven days more. By
this time he had taken Cersobleptes prisoner, and captured Serrhium, Doriscus,
and other Thracian towns, which were held by Athenian troops sent to assist
Cersobleptes. Demosthenes was now openly at variance with his colleagues. He had
no doubt realized the necessity of peace, but probably regarded the exclusion of
the Phocians as unwarrantable, and thought that the policy of his colleagues
must end in Philip's conquest of all Greece. At Pella he occupied himself in
negotiations for the ransom of prisoners. After taking the oath, Philip kept the
ambassadors with him until he had made all preparations for his march southward,
and during this time he played with them and with the envoys from the other
Greek States who were present at the same time. His intention of marching to
Thermopylae was clear; but he seems to have led all alike to suppose that he
would fulfil their particular wishes when he had crossed the Pass. The
ambassadors accompanied him to Pherae, where the oath was taken by the
representatives of Philip's allies; the Phocians, Halus, and Cersobleptes were
excluded from the Peace. (Halus was taken by Philip's army shortly afterwards.)
The ambassadors of Athens then returned homewards, bearing a letter from Philip,
but did not arrive at Athens before Philip had reached Thermopylae. On their
return Demosthenes denounced them before the Council, which refused them the
customary compliments, and (on Demosthenes' motion) determined to propose to the
people that Proxenus with his squadron should be ordered to go to the aid of the
Phocians and to prevent Philip from crossing the Pass. When the Assembly met on
the 16th of Scirophorion (shortly before the middle of July), Aeschines rose
first, and announced in glowing terms the intention of Philip to turn round upon
Thebes and to re-establish Thespiae and Plataeae; and hinted at the restoration
to Athens of Euboea and Oropus. Then Philip's letter was read, containing no
promises, but excusing the delay of the ambassadors as due to his own request.
The Assembly was elated at the promises announced by Aeschines; Demosthenes'
attempt to contradict the announcement failed; and on Philocrates' motion, it
was resolved to extend the Peace and alliance with Philip to posterity, and to
declare that if the Phocians refused to surrender the Temple of Delphi to the
Amphictyons, Athens would take steps against those responsible for the refusal.
Demosthenes refused to serve on the Embassy appointed to convey this resolution
to Philip: Aeschines was appointed, but was too ill to start. The ambassadors
set out, but within a few days returned with the news that the Phocian army had
surrendered to Philip (its leader, Phalaecus, and his troops being allowed to
depart to the Peloponnese). The surrender had perhaps been accelerated by the
news of the Athenian resolution. The Assembly, in alarm lest Philip should march
southwards, now resolved to take measures of precaution and defence, and to send
the same ambassadors to Philip, to do what they could. They went, Aeschines
among them, and arrived in the midst of the festivities with which Philip was
celebrating the success of his plans. The invitation which Philip sent to
Athens--to send a force to join his own, and to assist in settling the affairs
of Phocis--was (on Demosthenes' advice) declined by the Assembly; and soon
afterwards another letter from Philip expressed surprise at the unfriendly
attitude taken up by the Athenians towards him. Philip next summoned the
Amphictyonic Council (the legitimate guardians of the Delphian Temple, on whose
behalf the Thebans and Thessalians, aided by Philip, were now at war with the
Phocians): and the Council, in the absence of many of its members, resolved to
transfer the votes of the Phocians in the Council-meeting to Philip, to break up
the Phocian towns into villages, disarming their inhabitants and taking away
their horses, to require them to repay the stolen treasure to the temple by
instalments, and to pronounce a curse upon those actually guilty of sacrilege,
which would render them liable to arrest anywhere. The destructive part of the
sentence was rigorously executed by the Thebans. In order to punish the former
supporters of the Phocians, the right to precedence in consulting the oracle was
transferred from Athens to Philip, by order of the Council, and the Spartans
were excluded from the temple: Orchomenus and Coroneia were destroyed and their
inhabitants enslaved; and Thebes became absolute mistress of all Boeotia. The
Pythian games (at Delphi) in September 346 were celebrated under Philip's
presidency; but both Sparta and Athens refused to send the customary deputation
to them, and Philip accordingly sent envoys to Athens, along with
representatives of the Amphictyons, to demand recognition for himself as an
Amphictyonic power. Aeschines supported the demand, his argument being
apparently to the effect that Philip had been forced to act as he had done by
the Thebans and Thessalians; but the Assembly was very angry at the results (as
they seemed to be) of Aeschines' diplomacy and the calamities of the Phocians;
and it was only when Demosthenes, in the Speech on the Peace, advised
compliance, that they were persuaded to give way. To have refused would have
brought the united forces of the Amphictyonic States against Athens: and these
she could not have resisted. It was therefore prudent to keep the Peace, though
Demosthenes evidently regarded it only as an armistice.]
{1} I see, men of Athens, that our present situation is one of great perplexity
and confusion, for not only have many of our interests been sacrificed, so that
it is of no use to make eloquent speeches about them; but even as regards what
still remains to us, there is no general agreement in any single point as to
what is expedient: some hold one view, and some another. {2} Perplexing,
moreover, and difficult as deliberation naturally is, men of Athens, you have
made it far more difficult. For while all the rest of mankind are in the habit
of resorting to deliberation before the event, you do not do so until
afterwards: and consequently, during the whole time that falls within my memory,
however high a reputation for eloquence one who upbraids you for all your errors
may enjoy, the desired results and the objects of your deliberation pass out of
your grasp. {3} And yet I believe--and it is because I have convinced myself of
this that I have risen--that if you resolve to abandon all clamour and
contention, as becomes men who are deliberating on behalf of their country upon
so great an issue, I shall be able to describe and recommend measures to you, by
which the situation may be improved, and what we have sacrificed, recovered.
{4} Now although I know perfectly well, men of Athens, that to speak to you
about one's own earlier speeches, and about oneself, is a practice which is
always extremely repaying, I feel the vulgarity and offensiveness of it so
strongly, that I shrink from it even when I see that it is necessary. I think,
however, that you will form a better judgement on the subject on which I am
about to speak, if I remind you of some few of the things which I have said on
certain previous occasions. {5} In the first place, men of Athens, when at the
time of the disturbances in Euboea[n] you were being urged to assist Plutarchus,
and to undertake an inglorious and costly campaign, I came forward first and
unsupported to oppose this action, and was almost torn in pieces by those who
for the sake of their own petty profits had induced you to commit many grave
errors: and when only a short time had elapsed, along with the shame which you
incurred and the treatment which you received--treatment such as no people in
the world ever before experienced at the hands of those whom they went to
assist--there came the recognition by all of you of the baseness of those who
had urged you to this course, and of the excellence of my own advice. {6} Again,
men of Athens, I observed that Neoptolemus[n] the actor, who was allowed freedom
of movement everywhere on the ground of his profession, and was doing the city
the greatest mischief, was managing and directing your communications with
Philip in Philip's own interest: and I came forward and informed you; and that,
not to gratify any private dislike or desire to misrepresent him, as subsequent
events have made plain. {7} And in this case I shall not, as before, throw the
blame on any speakers or defenders of Neoptolemus--indeed, he had no defenders;
it is yourselves that I blame. For had you been watching rival tragedies in the
theatre, instead of discussing the vital interests of a whole State, you could
not have listened with more partiality towards him, or more prejudice against
me. {8} And yet, I believe, you have all now realized that though, according to
his own assertion, this visit to the enemy's country was paid in order that he
might get in the debts owing to him there, and return with funds to perform his
public service[n] here; though he was always repeating the statement that it was
monstrous to accuse those who were transferring their means from Macedonia to
Athens; yet, when the Peace had removed all danger, he converted his real estate
here into money, and took himself off with it to Philip. {9} These then are two
events which I have foretold--events which, because their real character was
exactly and faithfully disclosed by me, are a testimony to the speeches which I
have delivered. A third, men of Athens, was the following; and when I have given
you this one instance, I will immediately proceed to the subject on which I have
come forward to speak. When we returned from the Embassy, after receiving from
Philip his oath to maintain the Peace, {10} there were some[n] who promised that
Thespiae and Plataeae[n] would be repeopled, and said that if Philip became
master of the situation, he would save the Phocians, and would break up the city
of Thebes into villages; that Oropus would be yours, and that Euboea would be
restored to you in place of Amphipolis--with other hopes and deceptions of the
same kind, by which you were seduced into sacrificing the Phocians in a manner
that was contrary to your interest and perhaps to your honour also. But as for
me, you will find that neither had I any share in this deception, nor yet did I
hold my peace. On the contrary, I warned you plainly, as, I know you remember,
that _I_ had no knowledge and no expectations of this kind, and that I regarded
such statements as nonsense.
{11} All these plain instances of superior foresight on my part, men of Athens,
I shall not ascribe to any cleverness, any boasted merits, of my own. I will not
pretend that my foreknowledge and discernment are due to any causes but such as
I will name; and they are two. The first, men of Athens, is that good fortune,
which, I observe, is more powerful than all the cleverness and wisdom on earth.
{12} The second is the fact that my judgement and reasoning are disinterested.
No one can point to any personal gain in connexion with my public acts and
words: and therefore I see what is to our interest undistorted, in the light in
which the actual facts reveal it. But when you throw money into one scale of the
balance, its weight carries everything with it; your judgement is instantly
dragged down with it, and one who has acted so can no longer think soundly or
healthily about anything.
{13} Now there is one primary condition which must be observed by any one who
would furnish the city with allies or contributions or anything else--he must do
it without breaking the existing Peace: not because the Peace is at all
admirable or creditable to you, but because, whatever its character, it would
have been better, in the actual circumstances, that it should never have been
made, than that having been made, it should now be broken through our action.
For we have sacrificed many advantages which we possessed when we made it, and
which would have rendered the war safer and easier for us then than it is now.
{14} The second condition, men of Athens, is that we shall not draw on these
self-styled Amphictyons,[n] who are now assembled, until they have an
irresistible or a plausible reason for making a united war against us. My own
belief is that if war broke out again between ourselves and Philip about
Amphipolis or any such claim of our own, in which the Thessalians and Argives
and Thebans had no interest, none of these peoples would go to war against us,
least of all--{15} and let no one raise a clamour before he hears what I have to
say--least of all the Thebans; not because they are in any pleasant mood towards
us; not because they would not be glad to gratify Philip; but because they know
perfectly well, however stupid one may think them,[n] that if war springs up
between themselves and you, _they_ will get all the hardships of war for their
share, while another will sit by, waiting to secure all the advantages; and they
are not likely to sacrifice themselves for such a prospect, unless the origin
and the cause of the war are such as concern all alike. {16} Nor again should
we, in my opinion, suffer at all, if we went to war with Thebes on account of
Oropus[n] or any other purely Athenian interest. For I believe that while those
who would assist ourselves or the Thebans would give their aid if their ally's
own country were invaded, they would not join either in an offensive campaign.
For this is the manner of alliances--such, at least, as are worth considering;
and the relationship is naturally of this kind. {17} The goodwill of each ally--
whether it be towards ourselves or towards the Thebans--does not imply the same
interest in our conquest of others as in our existence. Our continued existence
they would all desire for their own sakes; but none of them would wish that
through conquest either of us should become their own masters. What is it then
that I regard with apprehension? What is it that we must guard against? I fear
lest a common pretext should be supplied for the coming war, a common charge
against us, which will appeal to all alike. {18} For if the Argives[n] and
Messenians and Megalopolitans, and some of the other Peloponnesians who are in
sympathy with them, adopt a hostile attitude towards us owing to our
negotiations for peace with Sparta, and the belief that to some extent we are
giving our approval to the policy which the Spartans have pursued: if the
Thebans already (as we are told) detest us, and are sure to become even more
hostile, because we are harbouring those whom they have exiled,[n] and losing no
opportunity of displaying our ill-will towards them; {19} and the Thessalians,
because we are offering a refuge to the Phocian fugitives;[n] and Philip,
because we are preventing his admission to Amphictyonic rank; my fear is that,
when each power has thus its separate reasons for resentment, they may unite in
the war against us, with the decrees of the Amphictyons for their pretext: and
so each may be drawn on farther than their several interests would carry them,
just as they were in dealing with the Phocians. {20} For you doubtless realize
that it was not through any unity in their respective ambitions, that the
Thebans and Philip and the Thessalians all acted together just now. The Thebans,
for instance, could not prevent Philip from marching through and occupying the
passes, nor even from stepping in at the last moment to reap the credit of all
that they themselves had toiled for.[n] {21} For, as it is, though the Thebans
have gained something so far as the recovery of their territory is concerned,
their honour and reputation have suffered shamefully, since it now appears as
though they would have gained nothing, unless Philip had crossed the Pass. This
was not what they intended. They only submitted to all this in their anxiety to
obtain Orchomenus and Coroneia, and their inability to do so otherwise. {22} And
as to Philip, some persons,[n] as you know, are bold enough to say that it was
not from any wish to do so that he handed over Orchomenus and Coroneia to
Thebes, but from compulsion; and although I must part company with them there, I
am sure that at least he did not want to do this _more_ than he desired to
occupy the passes, and to get the credit of appearing to have determined the
issue of the war, and to manage the Pythian games by his own authority. These, I
am sure, were the objects which he coveted most greedily. {23} The Thessalians,
again, did not desire to see either the Thebans or Philip growing powerful; for
in any such contingency they thought that they themselves were menaced. But they
did desire to secure two privileges--admission to the Amphictyonic meeting, and
the recovery of rights at Delphi;[n] and in their eagerness for these
privileges, they joined Philip in the actions in question. Thus you will find
that each was led on, for the sake of private ends, to take action which they in
no way desired to take. But this is the very thing against which we have now to
be on our guard.
{24} 'Are we then, for fear of this, to submit to Philip? and do _you_ require
this of us?' you ask me. Far from it. Our action must be such as will be in no
way unworthy of us, and at the same time will not lead to war, but will prove to
all our good sense and the justice of our position: and, in answer to those who
are bold enough to think that we should refuse to submit to anything
whatever,[n] [2] and who cannot foresee the war that must follow, I wish to urge
this consideration. We are allowing the Thebans to hold Oropus; and if any one
asked us to state the reason honestly, we should say that it was to avoid war.
{25} Again, we have just ceded Amphipolis to Philip by the Treaty of Peace;[n]
we permit the Cardians[n] to occupy a position apart from the other colonists in
the Chersonese; we allow the Prince of Caria[n] to seize the islands of Chios,
Cos, and Rhodes, and the Byzantines to drive our vessels to shore[n]--obviously
because we believe that the tranquillity afforded by peace brings more blessings
than any collision or contention over these grievances would bring: so that it
would be a foolish and an utterly perverse policy, when we have behaved in this
manner towards each of our adversaries individually, where our own most
essential interests were concerned, to go now to war with all of them together,
on account of this shadow at Delphi.[n]
FOOTNOTES
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[1] The term 'the allies of Athens' was ambiguous. It might be taken (as it was
taken by Philip and his envoys) to include only the remaining members of the
League (see p. 9), who were represented by the Synod then sitting, and whose
policy Athens could control. But it was evidently possible to put a wider
interpretation upon it, as the Assembly probably did and as Demosthenes often
does (e.g. Speech on Embassy, Sec. 278), and to understand it as including the
Phocians and others (such as Cersobleptes) with whom Athens had a treaty of
alliance. Much of the trouble which followed arose out of this ambiguity.
[2] [Greek: oud hotioun].
THE SECOND PHILIPPIC (OR. VI)
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[_Introduction_. After settling affairs at Delphi in 346, Philip returned to
Macedonia. During a considerable part of 345 and in the early months of 344 he
was occupied with campaigns against the Illyrians, Dardani, and Triballi. But in
the summer (probably) of 344 he resumed his activities in Greece, garrisoning
Pherae and other towns of Thessaly with Macedonians, appropriating the revenues
derived from the Thessalian ports, and establishing oligarchical governments
throughout the country. At the same time negotiations were going on between
himself and Athens with regard to the Thracian strongholds which he had captured
in 346. He refused to give these up, though he offered to cut a canal across the
Chersonese, for the protection of the Athenian allies there from the attacks of
the Thracians. He also sent money and mercenaries to help the Messenians and
Argives, who, like the Megalopolitans, were anxious to secure their independence
of Sparta. Athens, which was on friendly terms with Sparta, sent envoys to the
Peloponnesian states to counteract Philip's influence, and of these Demosthenes
was one. In return, Argos and Messene complained to Athens of her interference
with their attempt to secure freedom, and Philip sent envoys to deprecate the
charges made against him by the Athenian ambassadors in the Peloponnese. He
pointed out that he had not broken any promises made to Athens at the time of
the Peace, for he had made none. (In fact, if Demosthenes' account is correct,
he had confined himself to vague expressions of goodwill; the promises had been
made by Aeschines.) The Second Philippic, spoken late in 344, proposes a reply
to Philip, the text of which has unfortunately not come down to us. The
Peloponnesian envoys appear also to have been in Athens at the time; and
Philip's supporters had put forward various explanations of his conduct at the
time when the Peace was made. To these also Demosthenes replies.]
{1} In all our discussions, men of Athens, with regard to the acts of violence
by which Philip contravenes the terms of the Peace, I observe that, although the
speeches on our side are always manifestly just and sympathetic,[n] and although
those who denounce Philip are always regarded as saying what ought to be said,
yet practically nothing is done which ought to be done, or which would make it
worth while to listen to such speeches. {2} On the contrary, the condition of
public affairs as a whole has already been brought to a point at which, the more
and the more evidently a speaker can convict Philip both of transgressing the
Peace which he made with you and of plotting against all the Hellenes, the
harder it is for him to advise you how you should act. {3} The responsibility
for this rests with us all, men of Athens. It is by deeds and actions, not by
words, that a policy of encroachment must be arrested: and yet, in the first
place, we who rise to address you will not face the duty of proposing or
advising such action, for fear of unpopularity with you, though we dilate upon
the character of Philip's acts, upon their atrocity, and so forth; and, in the
second place, you who sit and listen, better qualified though you doubtless are
than Philip for using the language of justice and appreciating it at the mouths
of others, are nevertheless absolutely inert, when it is a question of
preventing him from executing the designs in which he is now engaged. {4} It
follows as the inevitable and perhaps reasonable consequence, that you are each
more successful in that to which your time and your interest is given--he in
actions, yourselves in words. Now if it is still enough for you, that your words
are more just than his, your course is easy, and no labour is involved in it.
{5} But if we are to inquire how the evil of the present situation is to be
corrected; if its advance is not still to continue, unperceived, until we are
confronted by a power so great that we cannot even raise a hand in our own
defence; then we must alter our method of deliberation, and all of us who speak,
and all of you who listen, must resolve to prefer the counsels which are best,
and which can save us, to those which are most easy and most attractive.
{6} I am amazed, men of Athens, in the first place, that any one who sees the
present greatness of Philip and the wide mastery which he has gained, can be
free from alarm, or can imagine that this involves no peril to Athens, or that
it is not against you that all his preparations are being made. And I would beg
you, one and all, to listen while I put before you in a few words the reasoning
by which I have come to entertain the opposite expectation, and the grounds upon
which I regard Philip as an enemy; that so, if my own foresight appears to you
the truer, you may believe me; but if that of the persons who have no fears and
have placed their trust in him, you may give your adhesion to them. {7} Here
then, men of Athens, is my argument. Of what, in the first place, did Philip
become master, when the Peace was concluded? Of Thermopylae, and of the
situation in Phocis. Next, what use did he make of his power? He deliberately
chose to act in the interests of Thebes, not in those of Athens. And why? He
scrutinized every consideration in the light of his own ambition and of his
desire for universal conquest: he took no thought for peace, or tranquillity, or
justice; {8} and he saw quite correctly that our state and our national
character being what they are, there was no attraction that he could offer,
nothing that he could do, which would induce you to sacrifice any of the other
Hellenes to him for your own advantage. He saw that you would take account of
what was right; that you would shrink from the infamy attaching to such a
policy; that you would exercise all the foresight which the situation demanded,
and would oppose any such attempt on his part, as surely as if you were at open
war with him. {9} But the Thebans, he believed--and the event proved that he was
right--in return for what they were getting would let him do as he pleased in
all that did not concern them; and far from acting against him, or preventing
him effectively, would even join him in his campaign, if he bade them. His
services to the Messenians and the Argives at the present moment are due to his
having formed the same conception of them. And this, men of Athens, is the
highest of all tributes to yourselves: {10} for these actions of his amount to a
verdict upon you, that you alone of all peoples would never, for any gain to
yourselves, sacrifice the common rights of the Hellenes, nor barter away your
loyalty to them for any favour or benefit at his hands. This conception of you
he has naturally formed, just as he has formed the opposite conception of the
Argives and the Thebans, not only from his observation of the present, but also
from his consideration of the past. {11} He discovers, I imagine, and is told,
how when your forefathers might have been rulers of the rest of the Hellenes, on
condition of submitting to the king themselves, they not only refused to
tolerate the suggestion, on the occasion when Alexander [n], the ancestor of the
present royal house, came as his herald to negotiate, but chose rather to leave
their country and to face any suffering which they might have to endure; and how
they followed up the refusal by those deeds which all are so eager to tell, but
to which no one has ever been able to do justice; and for that reason, I shall
myself forbear to speak of them, and rightly; for the grandeur of their
achievements passes the power of language to describe. He knows, on the other
hand, how the forefathers of the Thebans and Argives, in the one case, joined
the barbarian army, in the other, offered no resistance to it. {12} He knows,
therefore, that both these peoples will welcome what is to their own advantage,
instead of considering the common interests of the Hellenes: and so he thought
that, if he chose you for his allies, he would be choosing friends who would
only serve a righteous cause; while if he joined himself to them, he would win
accomplices who would further his own ambitions. That is why he chose them, as
he chooses them now, in preference to you. For he certainly does not see them in
possession of more ships than you; nor has he discovered some inland empire, and
withdrawn from the seaboard and the trading-ports; nor does he forget the words
and the promises, on the strength of which he was granted the Peace.
{13} But some one may tell us, with an air of complete knowledge of the matter,
that what then moved Philip to act thus was not his ambition nor any of the
motives which I impute to him, but his belief that the demands of Thebes were
more righteous than your own. I reply, that this statement, above all others, is
one which he cannot possibly make _now_. How can one who is ordering Sparta to
give up Messene put forward his belief in the righteousness of the act, as his
excuse for handing over Orchomenus and Coroneia to Thebes?
{14} 'But,' we are told (as the last remaining plea), 'he was forced to make
these concessions, and did so against his better judgement, finding himself
caught between the cavalry of Thessaly and the infantry of Thebes.' Admirable!
And so, we are informed, he intends henceforth to be wary of the Thebans, and
the tale goes round that he intends to fortify Elateia [n]. 'Intends,' indeed!
and I expect that it will remain an intention! {15} But the help which he is
giving to the Messenians and Argives is no 'intention'; for he is actually
sending mercenaries to them and dispatching funds, and is himself expected to
arrive on the spot with a great force. Is he trying to annihilate the Spartans,
the existing enemies of Thebes, and at the same time protecting the Phocians,
whom he himself has ruined? Who will believe such a tale? {16} For if Philip had
really acted against his will and under compulsion in the first instance--if he
were now really intending to renounce the Thebans--I cannot believe that he
would be so consistently opposing their enemies. On the contrary, his present
course plainly proves that his former action also was the result of deliberate
policy; and to any sound observation, it is plain that the whole of his plans
are being organized for one end--the destruction of Athens. {17} Indeed, this
has now come to be, in a sense, a matter of necessity for him. Only consider. It
is empire that he desires, and you, as he believes, are his only possible rivals
in this. He has been acting wrongfully towards you for a long time, as he
himself best knows; for it is the occupation of your possessions that enables
him to hold all his other conquests securely, convinced, as he is, that if he
had let Amphipolis and Poteidaea go, he could not dwell in safety even at home.
{18} These two facts, then, he well knows--first, that his designs are aimed at
you, and secondly, that you are aware of it: and as he conceives you to be men
of sense, he considers that you hold him in righteous detestation: and, in
consequence, his energies are roused: for he expects to suffer disaster, if you
get your opportunity, unless he can anticipate you by inflicting it upon you.
{19} So he is wide awake; he is on the alert; he is courting the help of others
against Athens--of the Thebans and those Peloponnesians who sympathize with
their wishes; thinking that their desire of gain will make them embrace the
immediate prospect, while their native stupidity will prevent them from
foreseeing any of the consequences. Yet there are examples, plainly visible to
minds which are even moderately well-balanced[n]--examples which it fell to my
lot to bring before Messenian and Argive audiences, but which had better,
perhaps, be laid before yourselves as well.
{20} 'Can you not imagine,' I said, 'men of Messenia, the impatience with which
the Olynthians used to listen to any speeches directed against Philip in those
times, when he was giving up Anthemus to them--a city claimed as their own by
all former Macedonian kings; when he was expelling the Athenian colonists from
Poteidaea and presenting it to the Olynthians; when he had taken upon his own
shoulders their quarrel with Athens, and given them the enjoyment of that
territory? Did they expect, do you think, to suffer as they have done? if any
one had foretold it, would they have believed him? {21} And yet,' I continued,
'after enjoying territory not their own for a very short time, they are robbed
of their own by him for a great while to come; they are foully driven forth--not
conquered merely, but betrayed by one another and sold; for it is not safe for a
free state to be on these over-friendly terms with a tyrant. {22} What, again,
of the Thessalians? Do you imagine,' I asked, 'that when he was expelling their
tyrants, or again, when he was giving them Nicaea and Magnesia, they expected to
see the present Council of Ten[n] established in their midst? Did they expect
that the restorer of their Amphictyonic rights would take their own revenues
from them for himself? Impossible! And yet these things came to pass, as all men
may know. {23} You yourselves,' I continued, 'at present behold only the gifts
and the promises of Philip. Pray, if you are really in your right minds, that
you may never see the accomplishment of his deceit and treachery. There are, as
you know well,' I said, 'all kinds of inventions designed for the protection and
security of cities--palisades, walls, trenches, and every kind of defence. {24}
All these are made with hands, and involve expense as well. But there is one
safeguard which all sensible men possess by nature--a safeguard which is a
valuable protection to all, but above all to a democracy against a tyrant. And
what is this? It is distrust. Guard this possession and cleave to it; preserve
this, and you need never fear disaster. {25} What is it that you desire?' I
said. 'Is it freedom? And do you not see that the very titles that Philip bears
are utterly alien to freedom? For a king, a tyrant, is always the foe of freedom
and the enemy of law. Will you not be on your guard,' I said, 'lest in striving
to be rid of war, you find yourselves slaves?'[n]
{26} My audience heard these words and received them with a tumult of
approbation, as well as many other speeches from the envoys, both when I was
present and again later. And yet, it seems, there is still no better prospect of
their keeping Philip's friendship and promises at a distance. {27} In fact, the
extraordinary thing is not that Messenians and certain Peloponnesians should act
against their own better judgement, but that you who understand for yourselves,
and who hear us, your orators, telling you, that there is a design against you,
and that the toils are closing round you--that you, I say, by always refusing to
act at once, should be about to find (as I think you will) that you have exposed
yourselves unawares to the utmost peril: so much more does the pleasure and ease
of the moment weigh with you, than any advantage to be reaped at some future
date.
{28} In regard to the practical measures which you must take, you will, if you
are wise, deliberate by yourselves[n] later. But I will at once propose an
answer which you may make to-day, and which it will be consistent with your duty
to have adopted.
[_The answer is read._]
Now the right course, men of Athens, was to have summoned before you those who
conveyed the promises[n] on the strength of which you were induced to make the
Peace. {29} For I could never have brought myself to serve on the Embassy, nor,
I am sure, would you have discontinued the war, had you imagined that Philip,
when he had obtained peace, would act as he has acted. What we were then told
was something very different from this. And there are others, too, whom you
should summon. You ask whom I mean? After the Peace had been made, and I had
returned from the Second Embassy, which was sent to administer the oaths, I saw
how the city was being hoodwinked, and I spoke out repeatedly, protesting and
forbidding you to sacrifice Thermopylae and the Phocians: {30} and the men to
whom I refer were those who then said that a water-drinker[n] like myself was
naturally a fractious and ill-tempered fellow; while Philip, if only he crossed
the Pass, would fulfil your fondest prayers; for he would fortify Thespiae and
Plataeae; he would put an end to the insolence of the Thebans; he would cut a
canal through the Chersonese at his own charges, and would repay you for
Amphipolis by the restoration of Euboea and Oropus. All this was said from this
very platform, and I am quite sure that you remember it well, though your memory
of those who injure you is but short. {31} To crown your disgrace, with nothing
but these hopes in view, you resolved that this same Peace should hold good for
your posterity also; so completely had you fallen under their influence. But why
do I speak of all this now? why do I bid you summon these men? By Heaven, I will
tell the truth without reserve, and will hold nothing back. {32} My object is
not to give way to abuse, and so secure myself as good a hearing[n] as others in
this place, while giving those who have come into collision with me from the
first an opportunity for a further claim[n] upon Philip's money. Nor do I wish
to waste time in empty words. {33} No; but I think that the plan which Philip is
pursuing will some day trouble you more than the present situation does; for his
design is moving towards fulfilment, and though I shrink from precise
conjecture, I fear its accomplishment may even now be only too close at hand.
And when the time comes when you can no longer refuse to attend to what is
passing; when you no longer hear from me or from some other that it is all
directed against you, but all alike see it for yourselves and know it for a
certainty; then, I think, you will be angry and harsh enough. {34} And I am
afraid that because your envoys have withheld from you the guilty secret of the
purposes which they have been bribed to forward, those who are trying to remedy
in some degree the ruin of which these men have been the instruments will fall
victims to your wrath. For I observe that it is the general practice of some
persons to vent their anger, not upon the guilty, but upon those who are most
within their grasp. {35} While then the trouble is still to come, still in
process of growth, while we can still listen to one another's words, I would
remind each of you once more of what he well knows--who it was that induced you
to sacrifice the Phocians and Thermopylae, the control of which gave Philip
command of the road to Attica and the Peloponnesus; who it was, I say, that
converted your debate about your rights and your interests abroad into a debate
about the safety of your own country, and about war on your own borders--a war
which will bring distress to each of us personally, when it is at our doors, but
which sprang into existence on that day. {36} Had you not been misled by them,
no trouble would have befallen this country. For we cannot imagine that Philip
would have won victories by sea which would have enabled him to approach Attica
with his fleet, or would have marched by land past Thermopylae and the Phocians;
but he would either have been acting straightforwardly--keeping the Peace and
remaining quiet; or else he would have found himself instantly plunged into a
war no less severe than that which originally made him desirous of the Peace.
{37} What I have said is sufficient by way of a reminder to you. Heaven grant
that the time may not come when the truth of my words will be tested with all
severity: for I at least have no desire to see any one meet with punishment,
however much he may deserve his doom, if it is accompanied by danger and
calamity to us all.
ON THE EMBASSY (OR. XIX)
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[_Introduction_. The principal events with which a reader of this Speech ought
to be acquainted have already been narrated (see especially the Introductions to
the last two Speeches). The influence of the anti-Macedonian party grew
gradually from the time of the Peace onwards. In 346, within a month after the
return of the Second Embassy, the ambassadors presented their reports before the
Logistae or Board of Auditors (after a futile attempt on the part of Aeschines
to avoid making a report altogether); and Timarchus, supported by Demosthenes,
there announced his intention of taking proceedings against Aeschines for
misconduct on the Second Embassy. But Timarchus' own past history was not above
reproach: he was attacked by Aeschines for the immoralities of his youth, which,
it was stated, disqualified him from acting as prosecutor, and though defended
by Demosthenes, was condemned and disfranchised (345 B.C.). But early in 343
Hypereides impeached Philocrates for corruption as ambassador, and obtained his
condemnation to death--a penalty which he escaped by voluntary exile before the
conclusion of the trial; and, later in the same year, Demosthenes brought the
same charge against Aeschines.
In the meantime (since the delivery of Demosthenes' Second Philippic) Philip had
been making fresh progress. The Arcadians and Argives (for the Athenian envoys
to the Peloponnese in 344 seem to have had little success) were ready to open
their gates to him. His supporters in Elis massacred their opponents, and with
them the remnant of the Phocians who had crossed over to Elis with Phalaecus. At
Megara, Perillus and Ptoeodorus almost succeeded in bringing a force of Philip's
mercenaries into the town, but the attempt was defeated, by the aid of an
Athenian force under Phocion. In Euboea Philip's troops occupied Porthmus, where
the democratic party of Eretria had taken refuge, owing to an overthrow of the
constitution (brought about by Philip's intrigues) which resulted in the
establishment of Cleitarchus as tyrant. In the course of the same year (343)
occurred two significant trials. The first was that of Antiphon, who had made an
offer to Philip to burn the Athenian dockyards at the Peiraeus. He was summarily
arrested by order of Demosthenes (probably in virtue of some administrative
office): Aeschines obtained his release, but he was re-arrested by order of the
Council of Areopagus[1] and condemned to death. The other trial was held before
the Amphictyonic Council on the motion of the people of Delos, to decide whether
the Athenians should continue to possess the right of managing the Temple of
Delos. The Assembly chose Aeschines as counsel for Athens; but the Council of
Areopagus, which had been given power to revise the appointment, put Hypereides
in his place. Hypereides won the case. Early in 343 (or at all events before the
middle of the year), Philip sent Python of Byzantium to complain of the language
used about him by Athenian orators, and to offer to revise and amend the terms
of the Peace of Philocrates. In response, an embassy was sent, headed by
Hegesippus, a violent opponent of Macedonia, to propose to Philip (1) that
instead of the clause 'that each party shall retain possession of what they
have', a clause, 'that each party shall possess what is their own,' should be
substituted; and (2) that all Greek States not included in the Treaty of Peace
should be declared free, and that Athens and Philip should assist them, if they
were attacked. These proposals, if sanctioned, would obviously have reopened the
question of Amphipolis, Pydna, and Poteidaea, as well as of Cardia and the
Thracian towns taken by Philip in 346. Hegesippus, moreover, was personally
objectionable, and the embassy was dismissed with little courtesy by Philip, who
even banished from Macedonia the Athenian poet Xenocleides for acting as host to
the envoys. The feeling against Philip in Athens was evidently strong, when the
prosecution of Aeschines by Demosthenes took place.
The trial was held before a jury (probably consisting of 1,501 persons),
presided over by the Board of Auditors. Demosthenes spoke first, and Aeschines
replied in a speech which is preserved. There is no doubt, on a comparison of
the two speeches, that each, before it was published, received alterations and
insertions, intended to meet the adversary's points, or to give a better colour
to passages which had been unfavourably received. Probably not all the
refutations 'in advance' were such in reality. But there is no sufficient reason
to doubt that the speeches were delivered substantially as we have them.
Aeschines was acquitted by thirty votes.
The question of the guilt or innocence of Aeschines will probably never be
finally settled. A great part of his conduct can be explained as a sincere
attempt to carry out the policy of Eubulus, or as the issue of a genuine belief
that it was best for Athens to make terms with Philip and stand on his side.
Even so the wisdom and the veracity of certain speeches which he had made is
open to grave question; but this is a different thing from corruption. Moreover,
to some of Demosthenes' arguments he has a conclusive reply. It is more
difficult to explain his apparent change of opinion between the 18th and 19th of
Elaphebolion, 346 (if Demosthenes' report of the debates is to be trusted); and
some writers are disposed to date his corruption from the intervening night. Nor
is it easy to meet Demosthenes' argument that if Aeschines had really been taken
in by Philip, and believed the promises which he announced, or if he had
actually heard Philip make the promises, he would have regarded Philip
afterwards as a personal enemy, and not as a friend. But even on these points
Aeschines might reply (though he could not reply so to the Athenian people or
jury) that though he did not trust the promises, he regarded the interest of
Athens as so closely bound up with the alliance with Philip, that he considered
it justifiable to deceive the people into making the alliance, or at least to
take the risk of the promises which he announced proving untrue. In any case
there is no convincing evidence of corruption; and it may be taken as
practically certain that he was not bribed to perform particular services. It is
less certain that he was not influenced by generous presents from Philip in
forming his judgement of Philip's character and intentions. The standard of
Athenian public opinion in regard to the receipt of presents was not that of the
English Civil Service; and the ancient orators accuse one another of corruption
almost as a matter of course. (We have seen that Demosthenes began the attack
upon Eubulus' party in this form as early as the Speech for the Rhodians; it
appears in almost every subsequent oration: and in their turn, his opponents
make the same charge against him.) It is, in any case, remarkable that at a time
when the people was plainly exasperated with the Peace and its authors, and very
ill-disposed towards Philip, a popular jury nevertheless acquitted Aeschines;
and the verdict is not sufficiently explained either by the fact that Eubulus
supported Aeschines or by the jurors' memory of Demosthenes' own part in the
earlier peace-negotiations, though this must have weakened the force of his
attack. That Demosthenes himself believed Aeschines to have been bribed, and
could himself see no other explanation of his conduct, need not be doubted; and
although the speech contains some of those misrepresentations of fact and
passages of irrelevant personal abuse which deface some of his best work, it
also contains some of his finest pieces of oratory and narrative.
The second part of the speech is more broken up into short sections and less
clearly arranged than the first; earlier arguments are repeated, and a few
passages may be due (at least in their present shape) to revision after the
trial: but the latter part even as it stands is successful in leaving the points
of greatest importance strongly impressed upon the mind.
The following analysis of the speech may enable the reader to find his way
through it without serious difficulty:--
INTRODUCTION (Sec.Sec. 1-28)
(Back To Top)
(i) _Exordium_ (Sec.Sec. 1, 2). Impartiality requested of the jury, in view of
Aeschines' attempt to escape by indirect means.
(ii) _Points of the trial_ (Sec.Sec. 3-8). An ambassador must (1) give true reports;
(2) give good advice; (3) obey his instructions; (4) not lose time; (5) be
incorruptible.
(iii) _Preliminary exposition of the arguments_ (Sec.Sec. 9-28).
(1) The previous anti-Macedonian zeal of Aeschines suddenly collapsed
after the First Embassy.
(2) In the deliberations on the Peace, Aeschines supported
Philocrates.
(3) After the Second Embassy, Aeschines prevented Athens from guarding
Thermopylae and saving the Phocians, by false reports and
promises.
(4) Such a change of policy is only explicable by corruption.
PART 1 (Sec.Sec. 29-178)
The five points of Introduction (ii) are treated as three, or in three groups.
(i) The reports made by Aeschines on his return from the Second Embassy, and his
advice, especially as to the ruin of the Phocians (Sec.Sec. 29-97).
(1) The reports (a) to the Senate, (b) to the People, and their
reception (Sec.Sec. 29-46).
(2) Evidence that Aeschines conspired with Philip against the
Phocians, whose ruin is described (Sec.Sec. 47-71).
(3) Refutation of three anticipated objections, beginning at Sec. 72, Sec.
78, Sec. 80 respectively (Sec.Sec. 72-82).
(4) The danger to Athens from Aeschines' treachery (Sec.Sec. 83-7).
(5) Request to confine the trial strictly to relevant points
(Sec.Sec. 88-97).
(ii) The corruption of Aeschines by the bribes of Philip (Sec.Sec. 98-149).
(1) Arguments (beginning Sec. 102, Sec. 111, Sec. 114, Sec. 116) showing the
corruption of Aeschines (Sec.Sec. 98-119).
(2) Refutation of anticipated objections (beginning at Sec. 120, Sec. 134,
Sec. 147) (Sec.Sec. 120-49).
(iii) Aeschines' loss of time, by which Philip profited, and disobedience
to his instructions (Sec.Sec. 150-77).
(1) Narrative of the Second Embassy (Sec.Sec. 150-62).
(2) Comparison of the two Embassies (Sec.Sec. 163-5).
(3) Comparison of Demosthenes' own conduct with that of the other
ambassadors (Sec.Sec. 167-77). Recapitulation of the points established
(Sec.Sec. 177, 178).
PART II (Sec.Sec. 179-343)
(i) The injury done to Athens--
(a) by the loss of Thrace and the Hellespont;
(b) generally, by false reports from ambassadors (Sec.Sec. 179-86).
(ii) Refutation of anticipated objections--
(a) 'It is not Philip's fault that he has not satisfied Athens'
(Sec. 187).
(b) 'Demosthenes has no right to prosecute' (Sec.Sec. 188-220): including a
digression (Sec.Sec. 192-200) on Aeschines' character and incidents in
his life.
(iii) Demosthenes' object in prosecuting, passing into reproof of the laxity of
Athens towards traitors (Sec.Sec. 221-33).
(iv) Warning against any attempt by Aeschines to confuse the dates and incidents
of the two Embassies (Sec.Sec. 234-6.)
(v) Criticism of Aeschines' brothers and his prosecution of Timarchus
(Sec.Sec. 237-58).
(vi) The increasing danger from traitors, and the traditional attitude
of Athens towards them (Sec.Sec. 259-87).
(vii) Attack upon Eubulus for defending Aeschines (Sec.Sec. 288-99).
(viii) Philip's policy and methods; proofs of Aeschines' complicity
repeated (Sec.Sec. 300-31).
(ix) Warnings to the jury against Aeschines' attempts to mislead them; and
conclusion (Sec.Sec. 331-43).]
{1} How much interest this case has excited, men of Athens, and how much
canvassing has taken place, must, I feel sure, have become fairly evident to you
all, after the persistent overtures just now made to you, while you were drawing
your lots.[n] Yet I will make the request of you all--a request which ought to
be granted even when unasked--that you will not allow the favour or the person
of any man to weigh more with you than justice and the oath which each of you
swore before he entered the court. Remember that what I ask is for your own
welfare and for that of the whole State; while the entreaties and the eager
interest of the supporters of the accused have for their aim the selfish
advantage of individuals: and it is not to confirm criminals in the possession
of such advantages that the laws have called you together, but to prevent their
attainment of them. {2} Now I observe that while all who enter upon public life
in an honest spirit profess themselves under a perpetual responsibility, even
when they have passed their formal examination, the defendant Aeschines does the
very reverse. For before entering your presence to give an account of his
actions, he has put out of the way one of those[n] who appeared against him at
his examination; and others he pursues with threats, thus introducing into
public life a practice which is of all the most atrocious and most contrary to
your interests. For if one who has transacted and managed any public business is
to render himself secure against accusation by spreading terror round him,
rather than by the justice of his case, your supremacy[n] must pass entirely out
of your hands.
{3} I have every confidence and belief that I shall prove the defendant guilty
of many atrocious crimes, for which he deserves the extreme penalty of the law.
But I will tell you frankly of the fear which troubles me in spite of this
confidence. It seems to me, men of Athens, that the issue of every trial before
you is determined as much by the occasion as by the facts; and I am afraid that
the length of time which has elapsed since the Embassy may have caused you to
forget the crimes of Aeschines, or to be too familiar with them. {4} I will tell
you therefore how, in spite of this, you may yet, as I believe, arrive at a just
decision and give a true verdict to-day. You have, gentlemen of the jury, to
inquire and to consider what are the points on which it is proper to demand an
account from an ambassador. He is responsible first for his report; secondly,
for what he has persuaded you to do; thirdly, for his execution of your
instructions; next, for dates; and, besides all these things, for the integrity
or venality of his conduct throughout. {5} And why is he responsible in these
respects? Because on his report must depend your discussion of the situation: if
his report is true, your decision is a right one: if otherwise, it is the
reverse. Again, you regard the counsels of ambassadors as especially
trustworthy. You listen to them in the belief that they have personal knowledge
of the matter with which they were sent to deal. Never, therefore, ought an
ambassador to be convicted of having given you any worthless or pernicious
advice. {6} Again, it is obviously proper that he should have carried out your
instructions to him with regard to both speech and action, and your express
resolutions as to his conduct. Very good. But why is he responsible for dates?
Because, men of Athens, it often happens that the opportunity upon which much
that is of great importance depends lasts but for a moment; and if this
opportunity is deliberately and treacherously surrendered to the enemy, no
subsequent steps can possibly recover it. {7} But as to the integrity or
corruption of an ambassador, you would all, I am sure, admit that to make money
out of proceedings that injure the city is an atrocious thing and deserves your
heavy indignation. Yet the implied distinction was not recognized by the framer
of our law. He absolutely forbade _all_ taking of presents, thinking, I believe,
that a man who has once received presents and been corrupted with money no
longer remains even a safe judge of what is to the interest of the city. {8} If
then I can convict the defendant Aeschines by conclusive proofs of having made a
report that was utterly untrue, and prevented the people from hearing the truth
from me; if I prove that he gave advice that was entirely contrary to your
interests; that on his mission he fulfilled none of your instructions to him;
that he wasted time, during which opportunities for accomplishing much that was
of great importance were sacrificed and lost to the city; and that he received
presents in payment for all these services, in company with Philocrates; then
condemn him, and exact the penalty which his crimes deserve. If I fail to prove
these points, or fail to prove them all, then regard me with contempt, and let
the defendant go.
{9} I have still to charge him, men of Athens, with many atrocious acts in
addition to these--acts which would naturally call forth the execration of every
one among you. But I desire, before all else that I am about to say, to remind
you (though most of you, I know, remember it well) of the position which
Aeschines originally took up in public life, and the speeches which he thought
it right to address to the people against Philip; for I would have you realize
that his own actions, his own speeches at the beginning of his career, are the
strongest evidence of his corruption. {10} According to his own public
declaration at that time, he was the first Athenian to perceive that Philip had
designs against the Hellenes and was corrupting certain leading men in Arcadia.
With Ischander, the son of Neoptolemus, to second him in his performance, he
came before the Council and he came before the people, to speak on the subject:
he persuaded you to send envoys in all directions to bring together a congress
at Athens to discuss the question of war with Philip: {11} then, on his return
from Arcadia, he reported to you those noble and lengthy speeches which, he
said, he had delivered on your behalf before the Ten Thousand[n] at Megalopolis,
in reply to Philip's spokesman, Hieronymus; and he described at length the
criminal wrong that was done, not only to their own several countries, but to
all Hellas, by men who took bribes and received money from Philip. {12} Such
was his policy at that time, and such the sample which he displayed of his
sentiments. Then you were induced by Aristodemus, Neoptolemus, Ctesiphon, and
the rest of those who brought reports from Macedonia in which there was not an
honest word, to send ambassadors to Philip and to negotiate for peace. Aeschines
himself is appointed one of them, in the belief, not that he was one of those
who would sell your interests, or had placed confidence in Philip, but rather
one who would keep an eye on the rest. The speeches which he had already
delivered, and his antipathy to Philip, naturally led you to take this view of
him. {13} Well, after this he came to me[n] and tried to make an agreement by
which we should act in concert on the Embassy, and urged strongly that we should
both keep an eye upon that abominable and shameless man Philocrates; and until
we returned to Athens from the First Embassy, I at least, men of Athens, had no
idea that he had been corrupted and had sold himself. For (not to mention the
other speeches which, as I have told you, he had made on former occasions) at
the first of the assemblies in which you debated about the Peace, he rose and
delivered an exordium which I think I can repeat to you word for word as he
uttered it at the meeting. {14} 'If Philocrates,' he said, 'had spent a very
long time in studying how he could best oppose the Peace, I do not think he could
have found a better device than a motion of this kind. The Peace which he
proposes is one which I can never recommend the city to make, so long as a
single Athenian remains alive. Peace, however, we ought, I think, to make.' {15}
And he made a brief and reasonable speech in the same tone. But though he had
spoken thus at the first meeting, in the hearing of you all, yet at the second
meeting, when the Peace was to be ratified; when I was upholding the resolution
of the allies and working for a Peace on just and equitable terms; when you in
your desire for such a Peace would not even listen to the voice of the despicable
Philocrates; then, I say, Aeschines rose and spoke in support of him, using
language for which he deserves, God knows, to die many deaths, {16} saying that
you must not remember your forefathers, nor tolerate speakers who recalled your
trophies and your victories by sea; and that he would frame and propose a law,
that you should assist no Hellene who had not previously assisted you. These
words he had the callous shamelessness to utter in the very presence and hearing
of the ambassadors[n] whom you had summoned from the Hellenic states, in
pursuance of the advice which he himself had given you, before he had sold
himself.
{17} You elected him again, men of Athens, to receive the oaths. How he
frittered away the time, how cruelly he injured all his country's interests, and
what violent mutual enmity arose between myself and him in consequence of his
conduct and of my desire to prevent it, you shall hear presently. But when we
returned from this Embassy which was sent to receive the oaths, and the report
of which is now under examination; when we had secured nothing, either small or
great, of all that had been promised and expected when you were making the
Peace, but had been totally deceived; when they had again acted without regard
to their instructions,[n] and had conducted their mission in direct defiance of
your decree; we came before the Council: and there are many who have personal
knowledge of what I am about to tell you, for the Council-Chamber was crowded
with spectators. {18} Well, I came forward and reported to the Council the whole
truth: I denounced these men: I recounted the whole story, beginning with those
first hopes, aroused in you by the report of Ctesiphon and Aristodemus, and
going on to the speeches which Aeschines delivered during the time of the Peace-
negotiations, and the position into which they had brought the city: as regards
all that remained to you--I meant the Phocians and Thermopylae--I counselled you
not to abandon these, not to be victims once more of the same mistake, not to
let yourselves be reduced to extremities through depending upon a succession of
hopes and promises: and I carried the Council with me. {19} But when the day of
the Assembly came, and it was our duty to address you, the defendant Aeschines
came forward before any of his colleagues--and I entreat you, in God's name, to
follow me, and try to recollect whether what I tell you is true; for now we have
come to the very thing which so cruelly injured and ruined your whole cause. He
made not the remotest attempt to give any report of the results of the Embassy--
if indeed he questioned the truth of my allegations at all--but instead of this,
he made statements of such a character, promising you benefits so numerous and
so magnificent, that he completely carried you away with him. {20} For he said
that,[n] before his return, he had persuaded Philip upon all the points in which
the interests of the city were involved, in regard both to the Amphictyonic
dispute and to all other matters: and he described to you a long speech which he
professed to have addressed to Philip against the Thebans, and of which he
reported to you the substance, calculating that, as the result of his own
diplomacy, you would within two or three days, without stirring from home or
taking the field or suffering any inconvenience, hear that Thebes was being
blockaded, alone and isolated from the rest of Boeotia, {21} that Thespiae and
Plataeae were being repeopled, and that the debt due to the god[n] was being
exacted not from the Phocians, but from the Thebans who had planned the seizure
of the temple. For he said that he gave Philip to understand that those who
planned the act were no less guilty of impiety than those whose hands executed
the plan; and that on this account the Thebans had set a price upon his head.
{22} Moreover, he said that he heard some of the Euboeans, who had been thrown
into a state of panic and confusion by the friendly relations established
between Athens and Philip, saying to the ambassadors, 'You have not succeeded,
gentlemen, in concealing from us the conditions on which you have made your
Peace with Philip; nor are we unaware that while you have given him Amphipolis,
he has undertaken to hand over Euboea to you.' There was, indeed, another matter
which he had arranged as well, but he did not wish to mention this at present,
since even as it was some of his colleagues were jealous of him. {23} This was
an enigmatical and indirect allusion to Oropus. These utterances naturally
raised him high in your estimation; he seemed to be an admirable speaker and a
marvellous man; and he stepped down with a very lofty air. Then I rose and
denied all knowledge of these things, and at the same time attempted to repeat
some part of my report to the Council. But they now took their stand by me, one
on this side, one on that--the defendant and Philocrates; they shouted, they
interrupted me, and finally they jeered, while you laughed. {24} You would not
hear, and you did not wish to believe anything but what Aeschines had reported.
Heaven knows, your feelings were natural enough; for who, that expected all
these marvellous benefits, would have tolerated a speaker who said that the
expectation would not be realized, or denounced the proceedings of those who
made the promise? All else, of course, was of secondary importance at the time,
in comparison with the expectations and the hopes placed before you; any
contradiction appeared to be nothing but sheer obstruction and malignity, while
the proceedings described seemed to be of incredible importance and advantage to
the city.
{25} Now with what object have I recalled these occurrences to you before
everything else, and described these speeches of his? My first and chief object,
men of Athens, is that none of you, when he hears me speak of any of the things
that were done and is struck by their unparalleled atrocity, may ask in surprise
why I did not tell you at once and inform you of the facts; {26} but may
remember the promises which these men made at each critical moment, and by which
they entirely prevented every one else from obtaining a hearing; and that
splendid pronouncement by Aeschines; and that you may realize that in addition
to all his other crimes, you have suffered this further wrong at his hands--that
you were prevented from learning the truth instantly, when you ought to have
learned it, because you were deluded by hopes, deceits and promises. {27} That
is my first and, as I have said, my chief object in recalling all these
occurrences. But there is a second which is of no less importance than the
first, and what is this? It is that you may remember the policy which he adopted
in his public life, when he was still uncorrupted--his guarded and mistrustful
attitude towards Philip; and may consider the sudden growth of confidence and
friendship which followed; {28} and then, if all that he announced to you has
been realized, if the results achieved are satisfactory, you may believe that
all has been done out of an honest interest in the welfare of Athens; but if, on
the other hand, the issue has been exactly the opposite of that which he
predicted: if his policy has involved the city in great disgrace and in grave
perils, you may then be sure that his conversion was due to his own base
covetousness and to his having sold the truth for money.
{29} And now, since I have been led on to this subject, I desire to describe to
you, before everything else, the way in which they took the Phocian question
entirely out of your hands. And let none of you, gentlemen of the jury, when he
looks at the magnitude of the transactions, imagine that the crimes with which
the defendant is charged are on a grander scale than one of his reputation could
compass. You have rather to observe that any one whom you would have placed in
such a position as this--a position in which, as each critical moment arrived,
the decision would be in his hands--could have brought about disasters equal to
those for which Aeschines is responsible, if, like Aeschines, he had wished to
sell his services, and to cheat and deceive you. {30} For however
contemptible[n] may be the men whom you frequently employ in the public service,
it does not follow that the part which the world expects this city to play is a
contemptible one. Far from it! And further, though it was Philip, of course, who
destroyed the Phocian people, it was Aeschines and his party who seconded
Philip's efforts. And so what you have to observe and consider is whether, so
far as the preservation of the Phocians came within the scope of their mission,
these men deliberately destroyed and ruined that whole cause. You have not to
suppose that Aeschines ruined the Phocians by himself. How could he have done
so?
{31} (_To the clerk._) Now give me the draft-resolution which the Council passed
in view of my report, and the deposition of the clerk who wrote it. (_To the
jury._) For I would have you know that I am not repudiating to-day transactions
about which I held my peace at the time, but that I denounced them at once, with
full prevision of what must follow; and that the Council, which was not
prevented from hearing the truth from me, neither voted thanks to the
ambassadors, nor thought fit to invite them to the Town Hall.[n] From the
foundation of the city to this day, no body of ambassadors is recorded to have
been treated so; nor even Timagoras,[n] whom the people condemned to death. {32}
But these men have been so treated. (_To the clerk._) First read them the
deposition, and then the resolution.
[_The deposition and resolution are read._]
Here is no expression of thanks, no invitation of the ambassadors to the Town
Hall by the Council. If Aeschines asserts that there is any, let him point it
out and produce it, and I give way to him. But there is none. Now on the
assumption that we all fulfilled our mission in the same way, the Council had
good reason not to thank any of us, for the transactions of all alike were in
that case atrocious. But if some of us acted uprightly, while others did the
reverse, it must, it seems, have been owing to the knavery of their colleagues
that the virtuous were forced to take their share of this dishonour. {33} How
then can you all ascertain without any difficulty who is the rogue? Recall to
your minds who it is that has denounced the transaction from the outset. For it
is plain that it must have been the guilty person who was well content to be
silent, to stave off the day of reckoning for the moment, and to take care for
the future not to present himself to give an account of his actions; while it
must have been he whose conscience was clear to whom there occurred the thought
of the danger, lest through keeping silence he might be regarded as a partner in
such atrocious villany. Now it is I that have denounced these men from the
outset, while none of them has accused me. {34} Such then was the resolution of
the Council. The meeting of the Assembly took place when Philip was already at
Thermopylae: for this was the first of all their crimes, that they placed Philip
in command of the situation, so that, when you ought first to have heard the
facts, then to have deliberated, and afterwards to have taken such measures as
you had resolved upon, you in fact heard nothing until he was on the spot, and
it was no longer easy to say what steps you ought to take. {35} In addition to
this, no one read the resolution of the Council to the people, and the people
never heard it; but Aeschines rose and delivered the harangue which I just now
described to you, recounting the numerous and important benefits which he said
he had, before his return, persuaded Philip to grant, and on account of which
the Thebans had set a price upon his head. In consequence of this, appalled
though you were at first at the proximity of Philip, and angry with these men
for not having warned you of it, you became as mild as possible, having now
formed the expectation that all your wishes would be realized; and you would not
hear a word from me or from any one else. {36} After this was read the letter
from Philip, which Aeschines had written[n] when we had left him behind, a
letter which was nothing less than a direct and express defence in writing of
the misconduct of the ambassadors. For in it is stated that Philip himself
prevented them, when they were anxious to go to the several cities and receive
the oaths, and that he retained them in order that they might help him to effect
a reconciliation between the peoples of Halus and Pharsalus. He takes upon his
own shoulders the whole of their misconduct, and makes it his own. {37} But as
to the Phocians and Thespiae, and the promises contained in Aeschines' report to
you--why, there is not the slightest mention of them! And it was no mere
accident that the proceedings took this form. For the failure of the ambassadors
to carry out or give effect to any of the instructions imposed upon them by your
resolution--the failure for which you were bound to punish them--Philip makes
himself responsible in their stead, and says that the fault was his; for you
were not likely, of course, to be able to punish _him_. {38} But the points in
regard to which Philip wished to deceive you and to steal a march upon the city
were made the subject of the defendant's report, in order that you might be able
to find no ground of accusation or reproach against Philip, since these points
were not mentioned either in his letter or in any other part of the
communications received from him. But (_to the clerk_) read the jury the actual
letter--written by Aeschines, sent by Philip; and (_to the jury_) do you observe
that it is such as I have described. (_To the clerk._) Read on.
[_The letter is read._]
{39} You hear the letter, men of Athens; you hear how noble and generous it is.
But about the Phocians or the Thebans or the other subjects of the defendant's
report--not a syllable. Indeed, in this letter there is not an honest word, as
you will very shortly see for yourselves. He says that he retained the
ambassadors to help him reconcile the people of Halus: and such is the
reconciliation that they have obtained, that they are exiles from their country,
and their city is laid waste. And as to the prisoners, though he professed to be
wondering what he could do to gratify you, he says that the idea of procuring
their release had not occurred to any one. {40} But evidence has, as you know,
been laid before you many times in the Assembly, to the effect that I myself
went to ransom them, taking a talent[n] for the purpose; and it shall now be
laid before you once more. It follows, therefore, that it was to deprive me of
my laudable ambition[n] that Aeschines persuaded Philip to insert this
statement. But the strongest point of all is this. In his former letter--the
letter which we brought back--he wrote, 'I should have mentioned expressly the
great benefits that I propose to confer upon you, if I felt sure that you would
grant me the alliance as well.' And yet when the alliance has been granted, he
says that he does not know what he can do to gratify you. He does not even know
what he had himself promised! Why, he must obviously have known that, unless he
was trying to cheat you! To prove that he did write thus and in these terms,
(_to the clerk_) take his former letter, and read the very passage, beginning at
this point. Read on.
[_An extract from the letter is read._]
{41} Thus, before he obtained the Peace, he undertook to set down in writing the
great benefits he would confer on the city, in the event of an alliance also
being granted him. But as soon as he had obtained both his wishes, he says that
he does not know what he can do to gratify you, but that if you will inform him,
he will do anything that will not involve any disgrace or stigma upon himself.
Such are the excuses in which he takes refuge, to secure his retreat, in case
you should actually make any suggestion or should be induced to ask any favour.
{42} It would have been possible to expose this whole proceeding at the time--
and a great deal more--without delay; to inform you of the facts, and to prevent
you from sacrificing your cause, had not the thought of Thespiae and Plataeae,
and the idea that the Thebans were on the very point of paying the penalty,
robbed you of the truth. While, however, there was good reason for mentioning
these prospects, if the city was to hear of them and then be cheated, it would
have been better, if their realization was actually intended, that nothing
should have been said about them. For if matters had already reached a stage at
which the Thebans would be no better off, even if they perceived the design
against them, why was the design not fulfilled? But if its fulfilment was
prevented because they perceived it in time, who was it that betrayed the
secret? {43} Must it not have been Aeschines? Its fulfilment, however, was not
in fact intended, nor did the defendant either desire or expect it; so that he
may be relieved of the charge of betraying the secret. What was intended was
that you should be hoodwinked by these statements, and should refuse to hear the
truth from me; that you should not stir from home, and that such a decree should
carry the day as would involve the destruction of the Phocians. Hence this
prodigality in promises, and their proclamation in his speech to the people.
{44} When I heard Aeschines making all these magnificent promises, I knew
perfectly well that he was lying; and I will tell you how I knew. I knew it
first, because when Philip was about to take the oath in ratification of the
Peace, the Phocians were openly excluded from it. This was a point which it
would have been natural to pass over in silence, if the Phocians were really to
be saved. And secondly, I knew it because the promises were not made by Philip's
ambassadors or in Philip's letter, but by the defendant. {45} Accordingly,
drawing my conclusions from these facts, I rose and came forward and attempted
to contradict him; but as you were not willing to hear me, I held my peace, with
no more than these words of solemn protest, which I entreat you, in Heaven's
name, to remember. 'I have no knowledge of these promises,' I said, 'and no
share in making them; and,' I added, 'I do not believe they will be fulfilled.'
This last expression roused your temper, and I proceeded, 'Take care, men of
Athens, that if any of these things comes to pass, you thank these gentlemen for
it, and give your honours and crowns to them, and not to me. If, however,
anything of an opposite character occurs, you must equally vent your anger on
them: I decline all responsibility.' {46} 'No, no!' interrupted Aeschines, 'do
not decline responsibility now! Take care rather that you do not claim credit,
when the time comes.' 'Indeed, it would be an injustice if I did so,' I replied.
Then Philocrates arose with a most insolent air, and said, 'It is no wonder, men
of Athens, that I and Demosthenes should disagree; for he drinks water, I drink
wine.' And you laughed.
{47} Now consider the decree which Philocrates proposed and handed in.[n] An
excellent resolution it sounds, as you hear it now. But when you take into
account the occasion on which it was proposed, and the promises which Aeschines
was then making, you will see that their action amounts to nothing less than a
surrender of the Phocians to Philip and the Thebans, and that, practically, with
their hands tied behind their backs. (_To the clerk._) Read the decree.
[_The decree is read._]
{48} There, men of Athens, is the decree, overflowing with expressions of
gratitude and auspicious language. 'The Peace,' it says, 'which is granted to
Philip shall be granted on the same terms to his descendants, and also the
alliance.' Again, we are 'to thank Philip for his promised acts of justice'. Yet
Philip made no promises: so far was he from making promises that he said he did
not know what he could do to gratify you. {49} It was Aeschines who spoke in his
name, and made the promises. Then Philocrates took advantage of the enthusiasm
which Aeschines' words aroused in you, to insert in the decree the clause, 'and
unless the Phocians act as they are bound, and surrender the temple to the
Amphictyons, the Athenian people will render their assistance against those who
still stand in the way of such surrender.' {50} Thus, men of Athens, at a time
when you were still at home and had not taken the field, when the Spartans had
foreseen the deception and retired, and when none of the Amphictyons were on the
spot but the Thessalians and Thebans, he proposes in the most innocent-sounding
language in the world that they shall deliver up the temple to these. For he
proposes that they shall deliver it up to the Amphictyons. But what Amphictyons?
for there were none there but the Thessalians and Thebans. He does not propose
that the Amphictyons should be convoked, or that they should wait until the
Amphictyons met or that Proxenus should render assistance in Phocis, or that the
Athenians should take the field, or anything of the sort. {51} Philip did indeed
actually send two letters to summon you.[n] But he did not intend you really to
march from Athens. Not a bit of it! For he would not have waited to summon you
until he had seen the time go by in which you could have set out; nor would he
have tried to prevent me, when I wished to set sail and return hither; nor would
he have instructed Aeschines to speak to you in the terms which would be least
likely to cause you to march. No! he intended that you should fancy that he was
about to fulfil your desires, and in that belief should abstain from any
resolution adverse to him; and that the Phocians should, in consequence, make
no defence or resistance, in reliance upon any hopes inspired by you, but should
put themselves into his hands in utter despair. (_To the clerk._) Read to the
jury the letters of Philip.
[_The letters are read._]
{52} Now these letters summon you, and that, forsooth, instantly; and it was
surely for Aeschines and his party, if the proceeding was in any way genuine, to
support the summons, to urge you to march, and to propose that Proxenus, whom
they knew to be in those parts, should render assistance at once. Yet it is
plain that their action was of precisely the opposite character; and naturally
so. For they did not attend to the terms of the letter, but to the intention
with which Philip wrote it. {53} With this intention they co-operated, and to
this they strove to give effect. As soon as the Phocians had learned the news of
your proceedings in the Assembly, and had received this decree of Philocrates,
and heard the defendant's announcement and his promises, everything combined to
effect their doom. Consider the circumstances. There were some of them who had
the wisdom to distrust Philip. These were induced to trust him. And why? Because
they believed that even if Philip were trying to deceive them ten times over,
the ambassadors of Athens, at least, would never dare to deceive their own
countrymen. This report which Aeschines had made to you must therefore be true:
it was the Thebans, and not themselves, whose hour had come. {54} There were
others who advocated resistance at all hazards; but these too were weakened in
their resolution, now that they were persuaded that they could count upon
Philip's favour, and that, unless they did as they were bidden, you, whose
assistance they were hoping for, would march against them. There was also a
third party, who thought that you repented of having made the Peace with Philip;
but to these they pointed out that you had decreed that the same Peace should
hold good for posterity also; so that on every ground, all assistance from you
was despaired of. That is why they crowded all these points into one decree.
{55} And in this lies, I think, the very greatest of all their crimes against
you. To have made a Peace with a mortal man, whose power was due to the
accidents of the moment--a Peace, whereby they covenanted that the disgrace
brought upon the city should be everlasting; to have robbed the city, not only
of all beside, but even of the benefits that Fortune might hereafter bestow: to
have displayed such superabundant villany as to have done this wicked wrong not
only to their countrymen now living, but also to all those who should ever
thereafter be born--is it not utterly atrocious? {56} And this last clause, by
which the Peace was extended to your descendants, you would certainly never have
allowed to be added to the conditions of peace had you not then placed your
trust in the promises announced by Aeschines, as the Phocians placed their trust
in them and perished. For, as you know, they delivered themselves up to Philip;
they gave their cities into his hands; and the consequences which befell them
were the exact opposite of all that Aeschines had predicted to you.
{57} That you may realize plainly that this calamity was brought about in the
manner that I have described, and that they are responsible for it, I will go
through the dates at which each separate event occurred; and if any one can
contradict me on any point, I invite him to rise and speak in the time allotted
to me. The Peace was made on the 19th of Elaphebolion, and we were away on the
mission which was sent to receive the oaths three whole months. {58} All this
time the Phocians remained unharmed. We returned from that mission on the 13th
of Scirophorion. Philip had already appeared at Thermopylae, and was making
promises to the Phocians, none of which they believed--as is proved, when you
consider that otherwise they would not have appealed to you. Then followed the
Assembly, at which, by their falsehoods and by the deception which they
practised upon you, Aeschines and his party ruined the whole cause. {59} That
was on the 16th of Scirophorion. Now I calculate that it was on the fifth day
that the report of your proceedings reached the Phocians: for the Phocian envoys
were here on the spot, and were deeply concerned to know what report these men
would make, and what your resolution would be. That gives us the 20th as the
date on which, as we calculate, the Phocians heard of your proceedings; for,
counting from the 16th, the 20th is the fifth day. Then followed the 21st, the
22nd, and the 23rd. {60} On the latter day the truce was made, and the ruin of
the Phocians was finally sealed. This can be proved as follows. On the 27th you
were holding an Assembly in the Peiraeus, to discuss the business connected with
the dockyards, when Dercylus arrived from Chalcis with the news that Philip had
put everything into the hands of the Thebans, and that this was the fifth day
since the truce had been made. 23rd, 24th, 25th, 26th, 27th--the 27th is the
fifth day precisely. Thus the dates, and their reports and their proposals--
everything, in short, convicts them of having co-operated with Philip, and of
sharing with him the responsibility for the overthrow of the Phocians. {61}
Again, the fact that none of the towns in Phocis was taken by siege or by an
attack in force, and that the utter ruin of them all was the direct consequence
of their truce with Philip, affords the strongest evidence that it was the
belief inspired in the Phocians by these men, that they would be preserved from
destruction by Philip, which was the cause of their fate. Philip himself they
knew well enough. (_To the clerk._) Bring me our treaty of alliance with the
Phocians, and the decrees under which they demolished their walls. (_To the
jury._) You will then realize what were the relations between themselves and
you, upon which they relied, and what nevertheless was the fate which befell
them through the action of these accursed men. (_To the clerk._) Read.
[_The Treaty of Alliance between the Athenians and Phocians is read._]
{62} These, then, were the things for which they relied upon you--friendship,
alliance, and assistance. Now listen to what befell them, because Aeschines
prevented your going to their assistance. (_To the clerk._) Read.
[_The Agreement between Philip and the Phocians is read._]
You hear it, men of Athens. 'An Agreement between Philip and the Phocians,' it
runs--not between the Thebans and the Phocians, nor the Thessalians and the
Phocians, nor the Locrians, nor any one else who was there. Again, 'the Phocians
shall deliver up their cities to Philip'--not to the Thebans or Thessalians or
any one else. {63} And why? Because the defendant's report to you was that
Philip had crossed the Pass with a view to the preservation of the Phocians.
Thus it was Aeschines in whom all their trust was placed; it was with him in
their minds that they considered the whole situation; it was with him in their
minds that they made the Peace. (_To the clerk._) Now read the remainder. (_To
the jury._) And do you observe for what they trusted him, and what treatment
they received. Does it show any resemblance or similarity to what Aeschines
predicted in his report? (_To the clerk._) Read on.
[_The decrees of the Amphictyons are read._]
{64} Men of Athens, the horror and the immensity of this calamity have never
been surpassed in our day in the Hellenic world, nor even, I believe, in the
time before us. Yet these great and dreadful events a single man has been given
power to bring about, by the action of these men, while the city of Athens was
still in being--Athens, whose traditional policy is to stand as the champion of
the Hellenic peoples, and not to suffer anything like this to take place. The
nature of the ruin which the unhappy Phocians have suffered may be seen, not
only from these decrees, but also from the actual results of the action taken,
and an awful and piteous sight it is, men of Athens. {65} For when recently we
were on our way to Delphi[n] we could not help seeing it all--houses razed to
the ground, cities stripped of their walls, the land destitute of men in their
prime--only a few poor women and little children left, and some old men in
misery. Indeed, no words can describe the distress now prevailing there. Yet
this was the people, I hear you all saying, that once gave its vote against the
Thebans,[n] when the question of your enslavement was laid before them. {66}
What then, men of Athens, do you think would be the vote, what the sentence,
that your forefathers would give, if they could recover consciousness, upon
those who were responsible for the destruction of this people? I believe that if
they stoned them to death with their own hands, they would hold themselves
guiltless of blood. Is it not utterly shameful--does it not, if possible, go
beyond all shame--that those who saved us then, and gave the saving vote for us,
should now have met with the very opposite fate through these men, suffering as
no Hellenic people has ever suffered before, with none to hinder it? Who then is
responsible for this crime? Who is the author of this deception? Who but
Aeschines?
{67} Of all the many reasons for which Philip might be congratulated with good
cause upon his fortune, the chief ground of congratulation is a piece of good
fortune, to which, by every Heavenly Power, I cannot find any parallel in our
days. To have captured great cities, to have reduced a vast expanse of territory
to subjection, and all similar actions, are, of course, enviable and brilliant
achievements--undeniably so. But many other persons might be mentioned who had
achieved as much. {68} The good fortune of which I am about to speak is peculiar
to Philip, and has never been given to any other. It is this--that when he
needed scoundrels to do his work for him, he found even greater scoundrels than
he wanted. For as such we have surely good reason to think of them. For when
there were falsehoods which Philip himself, in spite of the immense interests
which he had at stake, did not dare to utter on his own behalf--which he did not
set down in any of his letters, and which none of his envoys uttered--these men
sold their services for the purpose, and undertook your deception. {69}
Antipater and Parmenio, servants of a master as they were, and unlikely ever to
find themselves in your presence again, none the less secured for themselves
that _they_ should not be the instruments in your deception, while these men,
who were Athenians, citizens of the most free city, and held an official
position as your ambassadors--though they would have to meet you and look you
in the face, and pass the remainder of their lives among you, and render before
you an account of their actions--they, I say, undertook the task of deceiving
you. How could vileness or desperation go further than this?
{70} But I would have you understand further that he is under your curse, and
that you cannot, without violation of religion and piety, acquit him, when he
has thus lied to you. (_To the clerk._) Recite the Curse. Take it from me, and
read it out of the law.
[_The Curse is read._]
This imprecation is pronounced in your name, men of Athens, by the herald, at
every meeting of the Assembly, as the law appoints; and when the Council sits,
it is pronounced again there. Nor can Aeschines say that he did not know it
well. He was your under-clerk and servant to the Council, and used himself to
read this law over[n] to the herald. {71} Surely, then, you will have done a
strange and monstrous thing, men of Athens, if to-day, when you have it in your
power, you should fail to do for yourselves the thing which you enjoin upon the
gods, or rather claim from them as your due; and should acquit a man whom you
pray to the gods to destroy utterly--himself, his race and his house. You must
not do this. You may leave it to the gods to punish one whom you cannot
yourselves detect; but when you have yourselves caught the criminal, you must no
longer lay the task of punishing him upon the gods.
{72} Now I am told that he intends to carry his shamelessness and impudence so
far, as to avoid all mention of his own proceedings--his report, his promises,
the deception he has practised upon the city--as though his trial were taking
place before strangers, instead of before you, who know all the facts; and that
he intends to accuse first the Spartans,[n] then the Phocians,[n] and then
Hegesippus.[n] {73} That is mere mockery; or rather, it is atrocious
shamelessness. For all that he will allege to-day against the Phocians or the
Spartans or Hegesippus--their refusal to receive Proxenus, their impiety--let
him allege what he will--all these allegations refer, as you know, to actions
which were already past when these ambassadors returned to Athens, and which
were no obstacle to the preservation of the Phocians--the admission is made by
whom? By the defendant Aeschines himself. For what was his report on that
occasion? {74} Not that if it had not been for their refusal to receive
Proxenus, nor that if it had not been for Hegesippus, nor that if it had not
been for such and such things, the Phocians would have been saved. No! he
discarded all such qualifications, and stated expressly that before he returned
he had persuaded Philip to save the Phocians, to repeople Boeotia, and to
arrange matters to suit your convenience; that within two or three days these
things would be accomplished facts, and that for this reason the Thebans had set
a price upon his head. {75} Refuse then, to hear or to tolerate any mention of
what had already been done, either by the Spartans or by the Phocians, before he
made his report; and do not let him denounce the rascality of the Phocians. It
was not for their virtue that you once saved the Spartans, nor the Euboeans,
that accursed people! nor many others; but because the interests of the city
demanded their preservation, as they demanded that of the Phocians just now. And
what wrong was done either by the Phocians or by the Spartans, or by yourselves,
or by any one else in the world after he made those declarations, to prevent the
fulfilment of the promises which he then made? Ask him that: for that is what he
will {76} not be able to show you. It was within five days--five days and no
more--that Aeschines made his lying report, that you believed him, that the
Phocians heard of it, surrendered themselves and perished. This, I think, makes
it as plain as it can possibly be, that the ruin of the Phocians was the result
of organized deceit and trickery, and of nothing else.[n] For so long as Philip
was unable to proceed to Phocis on account of the Peace,[n] and was only waiting
in readiness to do so, he kept sending for the Spartans, promising to do all
that they wished,[n]in order that the Phocians might not win {77} them over to
their side by your help. But when he had arrived at Thermopylae, and the
Spartans had seen the trap and retired, he now sent Aeschines in advance to
deceive you, in order that he might not, owing to your perceiving that he was
playing into the hands of the Thebans, find himself once more involved in loss
of time and war and delay, through the Phocians defending themselves and your
going to their assistance, but might get everything into his power without a
struggle; and this is what has in fact happened. Do not, then, let the fact that
Philip deceived the Spartans and Phocians as well as yourselves enable Aeschines
to escape his punishment for deceiving you. That would not be just.
{78} But if he tells you that, to compensate for the Phocians and Thermopylae
and all your other losses, you have retained possession of the Chersonese, do
not, in Heaven's name, accept the plea! Do not tolerate the aggravation of all
the wrong that you have suffered through his conduct as ambassador, by the
reproach which his defence would bring upon the city--the reproach of having
sacrificed the existence of your allies, in an underhand attempt to save part of
your own possessions! You did not act thus; for when the Peace had already been
made, and the Chersonese was no longer in danger, there followed four whole
months[n] during which the Phocians remained unharmed; and it was not until
after this that the lying statements of Aeschines brought about their ruin by
deceiving you. {79} And further, you will find that the Chersonese is in much
greater danger now than it was then. For when do you think that we had the
greater facilities for punishing Philip for any trespass against the
Chersonese?--before he stole any of these advantages from the city, or now? For
my part, I think we had far greater facilities then. What, then, does this
'retention of the Chersonese' amount to, when all the fears and the risks which
attended one who would have liked to attack it have been removed?
{80} Again, I am told that he will express himself to some such effect as this--
that he cannot think why he is accused by Demosthenes, and not by any of the
Phocians. It is better that you should hear the true state of the case from me
beforehand. Of the exiled Phocians, the best, I believe, and the most
respectable, after being driven into banishment and suffering as they have
suffered, are content to be quiet, and none of them would consent to incur an
enmity which would fall upon himself, on account of the calamities of his
people: while those who would do anything for money have no one to give it to
them. {81} For assuredly _I_ would never have given any one anything whatever to
stand by my side here and cry aloud how cruelly they have suffered. The truth
and the deeds that have been done cry aloud of themselves. And as for the
Phocian people,[n] they are in so evil and pitiable a plight, that there is no
question for them of appearing as accusers at the examination of every
individual ambassador in Athens. They are in slavery, in mortal fear of the
Thebans and of Philip's mercenaries, whom they are compelled to support, broken
up into villages as they are and stripped of their arms. {82} Do not, then,
suffer him to urge such a plea. Make him prove to you that the Phocians are not
ruined, or that he did not promise that Philip would save them. For the
questions upon which the examination of an ambassador turns are these: 'What
have you effected? What have you reported? If the report is true, you may be
acquitted; if it is false, you must pay the penalty.' How can you plead the non-
appearance of the Phocians, when it was you yourself, I fancy, that brought
them, so far as it lay in your power, into such a condition that they could
neither help their friends nor repel their enemies.
{83} And further, apart from all the shame and the dishonour in which also these
proceedings are involved, it is easy to show that in consequence of them the
city has been beset with grave dangers as well. Every one of you knows that it
was the hostilities which the Phocians were carrying on, and their command of
Thermopylae, that rendered us secure against Thebes, and made it impossible that
either Philip or the Thebans should ever march into the Peloponese or into
Euboea or into Attica. {84} But this guarantee of safety which the city
possessed, arising out of the position of Thermopylae and the actual
circumstances of the time, you were induced to sacrifice by the deceptions and
the lying statements of these ambassadors--a guarantee, I say, fortified by
arms, by a continuous campaign, by great cities of allies, and by a wide tract
of territory; and you have looked on while it was swept away. Fruitless has your
first expedition to Thermopylae become--an expedition made at a cost of more
than two hundred talents, if you include the private expenditure of the
soldiers--and fruitless your hopes of triumph over Thebes! {85} But of all the
wicked services which he has done for Philip, let me tell you of that which is
in reality the greatest outrage of all upon Athens and upon you all. It is this
--that when Philip had determined from the very first to do for the Thebans all
that he has done, Aeschines, by reporting the exact opposite to you, and so
displaying to the world your antagonism to Philip's designs, has brought about
for you an increase in the enmity between yourselves and the Thebans, and for
Philip an increase in their gratitude. How could a man have treated you more
outrageously than this?
(_To the clerk._) {86} Now take and read the decrees of Diophantus[n] and
Callisthenes[n]; (_to the jury_) for I would have you realize that when you
acted as you ought, you were thought worthy to be honoured with public
thanksgivings and praises, both at home and abroad; but when once you had been
driven astray by these men, you had to bring your children and wives in from the
country, and to decree that the sacrifice to Heracles[n] should take place
within the walls, though it was a time of peace. And in view of this it is an
amazing idea, that you should dismiss unpunished a man who even prevented the
gods from receiving their worship from you after the manner of your fathers.
(_To the clerk._) Read the decree.
[_The decree of Diophantus is read._]
This decree, men of Athens, was one which your conduct nobly deserved. (_To the
clerk._) Now read the next decree.
[_The decree of Callisthenes is read._]
{87} This decree you passed in consequence of the action of these men. It was
not with such a prospect in view that you made the Peace and the alliance at the
outset, or that you were subsequently induced to insert the words which extended
them to your posterity. You expected their action to bring you benefits of
incredible value. Aye, and besides this, you know how often, after this, you
were bewildered by the report that Philip's forces and mercenaries were
threatening Porthmus or Megara. You have not then to reflect contentedly that
Philip has not yet set foot in Attica. You have rather to consider whether their
action has not given him power to do so when he chooses. It is that danger that
you must keep before your eyes, and you must execrate and punish the man who is
guilty of putting such power into Philip's hands.
{88} Now I am aware that Aeschines will eschew all defence of the actions with
which he is charged, and that, in his desire to lead you as far away as possible
from the facts, he will enumerate the great blessings which Peace brings to all
mankind, and will set against them the evils that follow in the train of war.
His whole speech will be a eulogy of peace, and in that will consist his
defence. But such an argument actually incriminates the defendant further. If
peace, which brings such blessings to all other men, has been the source of such
trouble and confusion to us, what explanation can be found, except that they
have taken bribes and have cruelly marred a thing by nature so fair? {89}
'What?' he may say, 'have you not to thank the Peace for three hundred ships,
with their fittings, and for funds which remain and will remain yours?' In
answer to this, you are bound to suppose that, thanks to the Peace, Philip's
resources too have become far more ample--aye, and his command of arms, and of
territory, and of revenues, which have accrued to him to such large amounts.
{90} We, too, have had some increase of revenue. But as for power and alliances,
by the establishment of which all men retain their advantages, either for
themselves or their masters, ours have been sold by these men--ruined and
enfeebled; while Philip's have become more formidable and extensive by far. Thus
it is not fair that while Philip has been enabled by their action to extend both
his alliances and his revenue, all that would in any case have been ours, as the
result of the Peace, should be set off against what they themselves sold to
Philip. The former did not come to us in exchange for the latter. Far from it!
For had it not been for them, not only should we have had the former, as we have
now, but we should have had the latter as well.
{91} You would doubtless admit, men of Athens, in general terms, that, on the
one hand, however many and terrible the disasters that have befallen the city,
your anger cannot justly be visited upon Aeschines, if none of them has been
caused by him; and that, on the other hand, Aeschines is not entitled to be
acquitted on account of any satisfactory results that may have been accomplished
through the action of others. You must examine the acts of Aeschines himself,
and then show him your favour if he is worthy of it, or your resentment, on the
other hand, if his acts prove to be deserving ing of that. {92} How, then, can
you solve this problem fairly? You will do so if, instead of allowing him to
confound all questions with one another--the criminal conduct of the generals,
the war with Philip, the blessings that flow from peace--you consider each
point by itself. For instance, were we at war with Philip? We were. Does any one
accuse Aeschines on that ground? Does any one wish to bring any charge against
him in regard to things that were done in the course of the war? No one
whatever. He is therefore acquitted in regard to such matters, and must not say
anything about them; for the witnesses and the proofs which a defendant produces
must bear upon the matters which are in dispute; he must not deceive you by
offering a defence upon points which are not disputed. Take care, then, that you
say nothing about the war; for no one charges you with any responsibility for
that. {93} Later on we were urged by certain persons to make peace. We
consented; we sent ambassadors; and the ambassadors brought commissioners to
Athens who were to conclude the Peace. Once more, does any one blame Aeschines
for this? Does any one allege that Aeschines introduced the proposal of peace,
or that he committed any crime in bringing commissioners here to make it? No one
whatever. He must therefore say nothing in regard to the fact that the city made
peace; for he is not responsible for that. {94} 'Then what _is_ your assertion,
sir?' I may be asked. 'At what point _do_ your charges begin?' They begin, men
of Athens, from the time when the question before you was not whether you should
make peace or not (for that had already been settled), but what sort of peace
you should make--when Aeschines opposed those who took the side of justice,
supported for a bribe the hireling mover of the decree, and afterwards, when he
had been chosen to receive the oaths, failed to carry out every one of your
instructions, destroyed those of your allies who had passed unscathed through
the war, and told you falsehoods whose enormity and grossness has never been
surpassed, either before or since. At the outset, before Philip was given a
hearing in regard to the Peace, Ctesiphon and Aristodemus took the leading part
in the work of deception; but when the time had come for action, they
surrendered their role to Philocrates and Aeschines, who took it up and ruined
everything. {95} And then, when he is bound to answer for his actions and to
give satisfaction for them--like the unscrupulous God-forsaken clerk that he
is--he will defend himself as though it were the Peace for which he was being
tried. Not that he wishes to account for more than is charged against him--that
would be lunacy. No! He sees rather that in all his own proceedings no good can
be found--that his crimes are his whole history; while a defence of the Peace,
if it has no other merits, has at least the kindly sound of the name to
recommend it. {96} I fear, indeed, men of Athens, I fear that, unconsciously, we
are enjoying this Peace like men who borrow at heavy interest. The guarantees of
its security--the Phocians and Thermopylae--they have betrayed. But, be that as
it may, it was not through _Aeschines_ that we originally made it; for,
paradoxical as it may seem, what I am about to say is absolutely true--that if
any one is honestly pleased at the Peace, it is the generals, who are
universally denounced, that he must thank for it: for had they been conducting
the war as you desired them to do, {97}you would not have tolerated even the
name of peace. For peace, then, we must thank the generals; but the perilous,
the precarious, the untrustworthy nature of the Peace is due to the corruption
of these men. Cut him off, then, cut him off, I say, from all arguments in
defence of the Peace! Set him to defend his own actions! Aeschines is not being
tried on account of the Peace. On the contrary, the Peace stands discredited
owing to Aeschines. And here is evidence of the fact:--if the Peace had been
made, and if no subsequent deception had been practised upon you, and none of
your allies had been ruined, who on earth would have been hurt by the Peace,
except in so far as it was inglorious? And for its inglorious character the
defendant in fact shares the responsibility, for he spoke in support of
Philocrates. At least no irreparable harm would have been done; whereas now, I
believe, much has been done, and the guilt rests with the defendant. {98} That
these men have been the agents in this shameful and wicked work of ruin and
destruction, I think you all know. Yet so far am I, gentlemen of the jury, from
putting any unfair construction upon these facts or asking you to do so, that if
it has been through stupidity or simplicity, or ignorance in any form whatever,
that such results have been so brought about, I acquit Aeschines myself, and I
{99} recommend you also to acquit him. At the same time none of these excuses is
either constitutional[n] or justifiable. For you neither command nor compel any
one to undertake public business; but when any one has satisfied himself of his
own capacity and has entered political life, then, like good-hearted, kindly
men, you welcome him in a friendly and ungrudging manner, and even elect him to
office and place your own interests in his hands. {100} Then, if a man succeeds,
he will receive honour and will so far have an advantage over the crowd. But if
he fails, is he to plead palliations and excuses? That is not fair. It would not
satisfy our ruined allies, or their children, or their wives, or the rest of the
victims, to know that it was through my stupidity--not to speak of the stupidity
of the defendant--that they had suffered such a fate. Far from it! {101}
Nevertheless, I bid you forgive Aeschines for these atrocious and unparalleled
crimes if he can prove that it was simplicity of mind, or any form of ignorance
whatever, which led him to work such ruin. But if it was the rascality of a man
who had taken money and bribes--if he is plainly convicted of this by the very
facts themselves--then, if it be possible, put him to death; or if not, make
him, while he lives, an example to others.
And now give your thoughts to the proof by which he is convicted on these
points, and observe how straightforward it will be.
{102} If the defendant Aeschines was not deliberately deceiving you for a price,
he must necessarily, I presume, have had one of two reasons for making the
statements in question to you, in regard to the Phocians and Thespiae and
Euboea. Either he must have heard Philip promise in express terms that such
would be his policy and the steps he would take; or else he must have been so
far bewitched and deluded by Philip's generosity in all other matters as to
conceive these further hopes of him. There is no possible alternative besides
these two. {103} Now in both these cases he, more than any living man, ought to
detest Philip. And why? Because, so far as Philip could bring it about, all that
is most dreadful and most shameful has fallen upon him. He has deceived you; his
reputation is gone [he is rightly ruined]; he is on his trial; aye, and were the
course of the proceedings in any way that which his conduct called for, he would
long ago have been impeached;[n] {104-109} whereas now, thanks to your innocence
and meekness, he presents his report, and that at the time which suits his own
wishes. I ask, then, if there is one among you who has ever heard Aeschines
raise his voice in denunciation of Philip--one, I say, who has seen Aeschines
exposing him or saying a word against him? Not one! All Athens denounces Philip
before Aeschines does so. Every one whom you meet does so, though not one of
them has been injured by him--I mean, of course, personally. On the assumption
that Aeschines had not sold himself, I should have expected to hear him use some
such expressions as these--'Men of Athens, deal with _me_ as you will. I trusted
Philip; I was deceived; I was wrong; I confess my error. But beware of _him_,
men of Athens. He is faithless--a cheat, a knave. Do you not see how he has
treated me? how he has deceived me?' {110} But I hear no such expressions fall
from him, nor do you. And why? Because he was _not_ misled; he was _not_
deceived; he made these statements, he betrayed all to Philip, because he had
sold his services and received the money for them; and gallantly and loyally has
he behaved--as Philip's hireling. But as your ambassador, as your fellow
citizen, he is a traitor who deserves to die, not once, but thrice.
{111} This is not the only evidence which proves that all those statements of
his were made for money. For, recently, the Thessalians came to you, and with
them envoys from Philip, demanding that you should decree the recognition of
Philip as one of the Amphictyons. Who then, of all men, should naturally have
opposed the demand? The defendant Aeschines. And why? Because Philip had acted
in a manner precisely contrary to the announcement which Aeschines had made to
you. {112} Aeschines declared that Philip would fortify Thespiae and Plataeae;
that he intended, not to destroy the Phocians, but to put down the insolence of
Thebes. But in fact Philip has raised the Thebans to an undue height of power,
while he has utterly destroyed the Phocians; and instead of fortifying Thespiae
and Plataeae, he has brought Orchomenus and Coroneia into the same bondage with
them. How could any contradiction be greater than this? Aeschines did not oppose
the demand. He neither opened his lips nor uttered a sound in opposition to it.
{113} But even this, monstrous as it is, is not yet the worst. For he, and he
alone, in all Athens, actually supported the demand. This not even Philocrates
dared to do, abominable as he was; it was left for the defendant Aeschines. And
when you raised a clamour and would not listen to him, he stepped down from the
platform, and, showing off before the envoys who had come from Philip, told them
that there were plenty of men who made a clamour, but few who took the field
when it was required of them--you remember the incident, no doubt--being
himself, of course, a marvellous soldier, God knows!
{114} Again, if we had been unable to prove that any of the ambassadors had
received anything--if the fact were not patent to all--we might then have
resorted to examination by torture,[n] and other such methods. But if
Philocrates not only admitted the fact frequently in your presence at the
Assembly, but used actually to make a parade of his guilt--selling wheat,
building houses, saying that he was going[n] whether you elected him or not,
importing timber, changing Macedonian gold openly at the bank--it is surely
impossible for _him_ to deny that he received money, when he himself confesses
and displays his guilt. {115} Now, is any human being so senseless or so ill-
starred that, in order that Philocrates might receive money, while he himself
incurred infamy and disgrace, he would want to fight against those upright
citizens in whose ranks he might have stood, and to take the side of Philocrates
and face a trial? I am sure that there is no such man; but in all these
considerations, if you examine them aright, you will find strong and evident
signs of the corruption of the defendant.
{116} Consider next an incident which occurred last in order of time, but which
is second to none as an indication that Aeschines had sold himself to Philip.
You doubtless know that in the course of the recent impeachment of Philocrates
by Hypereides, I came forward and expressed my dissatisfaction with one feature
of the impeachment--namely, the idea that Philocrates alone had been responsible
for all these monstrous crimes, and that the other nine ambassadors had no share
in them. I said that it was not so, for Philocrates by himself would have been
nowhere, had he not had some of them to co-operate with him. {117} 'And
therefore,' I said, 'in order that I may not personally acquit or accuse any
one, and that the guilty may be detected, and those who have had no share in the
crime acquitted by the evidence of their own conduct, let any one who wishes to
do so rise and come forward into your midst, and let him declare that he has no
share in it, and that the actions of Philocrates are displeasing to him. Any one
who does this,' I said, 'I acquit.' You remember the incident, I am sure. {118}
Well, no one came forward or showed himself. Each of the others has some excuse.
One was not liable to examination; another, perhaps, was not present; a third is
related to Philocrates. But Aeschines has no such excuse. No! So completely has
he sold himself, once for all--so plain is it that his wages are not for past
services only, but that, if he escapes now, Philip can equally count upon his
help against you in the future--that to avoid letting fall even a word that
would be unfavourable to Philip, he does not accept his discharge[n] even when
you offer to discharge him, but chooses to suffer infamy, to stand his trial and
to endure any treatment in this court, rather than to take a step that would not
please Philip. {119} But what is the meaning of this partnership, this careful
forethought for Philocrates? For if Philocrates had by his diplomacy
accomplished the most honourable results and achieved all that your interest
required, and yet admitted (as he did admit) that he had made money by his
mission, this very fact was one by which an uncorrupted colleague should have
been repelled and set him on his guard, and led to protest to the best of his
power. Aeschines has not acted in this way. Is it not all clear, men of Athens?
Do not the facts cry aloud and tell you that Aeschines has taken money, that he
is a rascal for a price, and that consistently--not through stupidity, or
ignorance, or bad luck? {120} 'But where is the witness who testifies to my
corruption?' he asks. Why, this is the finest thing of all![n] The witnesses,
Aeschines, are facts; and they are the surest of all witnesses: none can assert
or allege against them, that they are influenced by persuasion or by favour to
any one: what your treachery and mischief have made them, such, when examined,
they must appear. But, besides the facts, you shall at once bear witness against
yourself. Come, stand up[n] and answer me! Surely you will not plead that you
are so inexperienced as not to know what to say. For when, under the ordinary
limitations of time, you prosecute and win cases that have all the novelty of a
play[n]--cases, too, that have no witness to support them--you must plainly be a
speaker of tremendous genius.
{121} Many and atrocious as are the crimes of the defendant Aeschines, and great
as is the wickedness which is implied by them (as I am sure you also feel) there
is none which is more atrocious than that of which I am about to speak to you,
and none which will afford more palpable proof that he has taken bribes and sold
everything. For when once more, for the third time, you sent the ambassadors to
Philip on the strength of those high and noble expectations which the
defendant's promises had roused, you elected both Aeschines and myself, and most
of those whom you had previously sent. {122} For my part I came forward and
declined upon oath to serve;[n] and though some raised a clamour and bade me go,
I declared that I would not; but the defendant had already been elected.
Afterwards, when the Assembly had risen, he and his party met and discussed whom
they should leave behind in Athens. For while everything was still in suspense,
and the future doubtful, there were all kinds of gatherings and discussions in
the market-place. {123} They were afraid, no doubt, that a special meeting of
the Assembly might suddenly be called, and that you might then hear the truth
from me, and pass some of the resolutions which it was your duty to pass in the
interest of the Phocians, and that so Philip's object might slip from his grasp.
For had you merely passed a resolution and shown them the faintest ray of hope
of any kind, the Phocians would have been saved. It was absolutely impossible
for Philip to stay where he was, unless you were misled. There was no corn in
the country, for, owing to the war, the land had not been sown; and to import
corn was impossible so long as your ships were there and in command of the sea;
while the Phocian towns were many in number, and difficult to take except by a
prolonged siege. Even assuming that he were taking a town a day, there are two
and twenty of them. {124} For all these reasons they left Aeschines in Athens,
to guard against any alteration of the course which you had been deluded into
taking. Now to decline upon oath to serve, without any cause, was a dangerous
and highly suspicious proceeding. 'What?' he would have been asked, 'are you not
going on the mission which is to secure all those wonderful good things which
you have foretold?' Yet he was bound to remain. How could it be done? He pleads
illness. His brother took with him Execestus the physician, came before the
Council, swore that Aeschines was too ill to serve, and was himself elected in
his place. {125} Five or six days later the ruin of the Phocians had been
accomplished, and Aeschines' contract--a mere matter of business--had been
fulfilled. Dercylus turned back, and on his arrival here from Chalcis announced
to you the destruction of the Phocians, while you were holding an Assembly in
the Peiraeus. On hearing the news you were naturally struck with sympathy for
them, and with terror for yourselves. You passed resolutions to bring in your
children and wives from the country, to repair the garrison-forts, to fortify
the Peiraeus, and to celebrate the sacrifice to Heracles within the city walls:
{126} and in the midst of all this, in the midst of the confusion and the tumult
which had fallen upon the city, this learned and able speaker, so loud of voice,
though not elected[n] either by the Council or by the people, set off as
ambassador to the man who had wrought the destruction, taking no account of the
illness which he had previously made his excuse, upon oath, for not serving, nor
of the election of another ambassador in his place, nor of the law which imposes
the penalty of death for such offences; {127} nor yet reflecting how utterly
atrocious it was, that after announcing that the Thebans had placed a price on
his head, he should choose the moment when the Thebans had (in addition to all
Boeotia, which they already possessed) become masters of the territory of the
Phocians as well, to go into the very midst of Thebes, and into the very camp of
the Thebans. But so beside himself was he, so utterly bent upon his profits and
his bribe, that he ruled out and overlooked all such considerations, and took
his departure.
{128} Such was the nature of this transaction; and yet his proceedings when he
arrived at his destination are far worse. All of you who are present, and all
other Athenians as well, thought the treatment of the unhappy Phocians so
atrocious and so cruel that you sent to the Pythian games neither the official
deputation from the Council, nor the Thesmothetae,[n] but abandoned that ancient
representation of yourselves at the festival. But Aeschines went to the
triumphal feast[n] with which the Thebans and Philip were celebrating the
victory of their cause and their arms. He joined in the festival: he shared in
the libations and the prayers which Philip offered over the ruined walls and
country and arms of your allies: with Philip he set garlands on his head, and
raised the paean, and drank the loving-cup. {129} Nor is it possible for the
defendant to give a different version of the facts from that which I have given.
As regards his sworn refusal to serve, the facts are in your public records in
the Metroon,[n] guarded by your officer; and a decree stands recorded with
express reference to the name of Aeschines.[n] And as for his conduct there, his
fellow ambassadors, who were present, will bear witness against him. They told
me the story; for I was not with them on this Embassy, having entered a sworn
refusal to serve.
(_To the clerk._) {130} Now read me the resolution [and the record], and call
the witnesses.
[_The decree is read, and the witnesses called._]
What prayers, then, do you imagine Philip offered to the gods, when he poured
his libation, or the Thebans? Did they not ask them to give success in war, and
victory, to themselves and their allies, and the contrary to the allies of the
Phocians? In these prayers, therefore--in these imprecations upon his own
country--Aeschines joined. It is for you to return them upon his own head to-
day.
{131} His departure, then, was a contravention of the law which imposes the
penalty of death for the offence, and it has been shown that on his arrival he
acted in a manner for which he deserves to die again and again, while his former
proceedings and the work which he did as ambassador, in their interest,[n] would
justly slay him. Ask yourselves what penalty can be found, which will adequately
atone for all these crimes? {132} It would surely be shameful, men of Athens,
that while all of you, and the whole people, denounce publicly all the
consequences of the Peace; while you decline to take part in the business of the
Amphictyons; while your attitude towards Philip is one of vexation and mistrust,
because the deeds that have been done are impious and atrocious, instead of
righteous and advantageous to you; that nevertheless, when you have come into
court as the sworn representatives of the State, to sit in judgement upon the
report of these proceedings, you should acquit the author of all the evil, when
you have taken him red-handed in actions like these. {133} Who is there of all
your fellow citizens--nay, who of all the Hellenes--that would not have good
cause for complaint against you, when he saw that though you were enraged
against Philip, who in making peace after war was merely purchasing the means to
his end from those who offered them for sale--a very pardonable transaction--you
were yet acquitting Aeschines, who sold your interests in this shameful manner,
notwithstanding the extreme penalties which the laws appoint for such conduct?
{134} Now it is possible that an argument may also be used by the other side to
some such effect as this--that the condemnation of those whose diplomacy brought
about the Peace will mean the beginning of enmity with Philip. If this is true,
then, I can imagine, upon consideration, no more serious charge that I could
bring against the defendant, than this. If Philip, who spent his money on the
Peace which he wished to obtain, has become so formidable, so powerful, that you
have already ceased to regard your oaths and the justice of the case, and are
seeking how you can gratify Philip, what penalty, that those who are responsible
for this could suffer, would be adequate to the offence? {135} I believe,
however, that I shall actually show you that it would more probably mean the
beginning of a friendship, advantageous to you. For you must be well assured,
men of Athens, that Philip does not despise your city; nor was it because he
regarded you as less serviceable than the Thebans, that he preferred them to
you. No! {136} He had been instructed by these men and had heard from them, what
I once told you in the Assembly, without contradiction from any of them, that
the People is the most unstable thing in the world, and the most incalculable,
inconstant as a wave of the sea, stirred by any chance wind. One comes, another
goes; but no one cares for the public interest, or remembers it. Philip needs
(he is told) friends upon whom he can rely to execute and manage his business
with you--such friends, for instance, as his informant.[n] If this were secured
for him, he would easily effect all that he desired in Athens. {137} Now if he
heard that those who had used such language to him had immediately upon their
return been beaten to death, he would doubtless have behaved as the Persian king
did. And how was this? He had been deceived by Timagoras,[n] and had given him,
it is said, forty talents; but when he heard that Timagoras had been put to
death here, and had not even power to secure his own life, much less to carry
out the promises he had made to him, he recognized that he had not paid the
price to the man who had the power to effect his object. For first, as you know,
he sent a dispatch, acknowledging once more your title to Amphipolis, which he
had previously described as in alliance and friendship with himself; and
secondly, he thenceforward wholly abstained from giving money to any one. {138}
This is exactly what Philip would have done, if he had seen that any of these
men had paid the penalty, and what, if he sees it, he will still do. But when he
hears that they address you, and enjoy a high reputation with you, and prosecute
others, what is he to do? Is he to seek to spend much, when he can spend less?
or to desire to court the favour of all, when he need but court two or three?
That would be madness. For even those public benefits which Philip conferred
upon the Thebans he conferred not from choice-- far from it--but because he was
induced to do so by their ambassadors; and I will tell you how. {139}
Ambassadors came to him from Thebes just at the time when we were there upon our
mission from you. Philip wished to give them money, and that (so they said) in
very large amounts. The Theban ambassadors would not accept or receive it. After
that, while drinking at a sacrificial banquet and displaying his generosity
towards them, Philip offered, as he drank to them, presents of many kinds--
captives and the like--and finally he offered them goblets of gold and silver.
All these they steadily refused, declining to put themselves in his power in any
way. {140} At last Philo, one of the ambassadors, made a speech, men of Athens,
which was worthy to be made in the name, not of Thebes, but of yourselves. For
he said that it gave them pleasure and delight to see the magnanimous and
generous attitude of Philip towards them; but for their own personal part, they
were already his good friends even without these presents; and they begged him
to apply his generosity to the existing political situation of their country,
and to do something worthy of himself and Thebes, promising that, if he did so,
their whole city, as well as themselves, would become attached to him. {141} And
now observe what the Thebans have gained by this, and what consequences have
followed; and contemplate in a real instance the advantages of refusing to sell
your country's interests. First of all, they obtained peace when they were
already distressed and suffering from the war, in which they were the losing
side. Next, they secured the utter ruin of their enemies, the Phocians, and the
complete destruction of their walls and towns. And was this all? No, indeed! For
besides all this they obtained Orchomenus, Coroneia, Corsia, the Tilphossaeum,
and as much of the territory of the Phocians as they desired. {142} This then
was what the Thebans gained by the Peace; and surely no more could they have
asked even in their prayers. And the ambassadors of Thebes gained--what? Nothing
but the credit of having brought this good fortune to their country; and a noble
reward it was, men of Athens, a proud record on the score of merit and honour--
that honour which Aeschines and his party sold for money. Let us now set against
one another the consequences of the Peace to the city of Athens and to the
Athenian ambassadors respectively; and then observe whether its effects have
been similar in the case of the city and of these men personally. {143} The city
has surrendered all her possessions and all her allies; she has sworn to Philip
that even if another approaches them to preserve them for her, you will prevent
him; that you will consider any one who wishes to give them up to you as your
enemy and foe, and the man who has robbed you of them as your ally and friend.
{144} That is the resolution which Aeschines supported, and which was moved by
his accomplice Philocrates; and although on the first day I was successful, and
had persuaded you to ratify the decree of the allies and to summon Philip's
envoys,[n] the defendant forced an adjournment of the question till the next
day, and persuaded you to adopt the resolution of Philocrates, in which these
proposals, and many others even more atrocious, are made. {145} These were the
consequences of the Peace to Athens. It would not be easy to devise anything
more shameful. What were the consequences to the ambassadors who brought these
things about? I say nothing of all that you have seen for yourselves--the
houses, the timber, the wheat. But they also possess properties and extensive
estates in the country of your ruined allies, bringing in incomes of a talent to
Philocrates and thirty minae to the defendant. {146} Yet surely, men of Athens,
it is an atrocious and a monstrous thing, that the calamities of your allies
should have become sources of revenue to your ambassadors, and that the same
Peace which to the city that sent them meant the ruin of her allies, the
surrender of her possessions, and shame in the place of honour, should have
created for the ambassadors who brought these things to pass against their
country, revenue, affluence, property, and wealth, in the place of abject
poverty. To prove, however, that what I am telling you is true (_to the clerk_)
call me the witnesses from Olynthus.
[_The witnesses are called._]
{147} Now I should not wonder if he even dared to make some such statement as
this--that the Peace which we were making could not have been made an honourable
one, or such as I demanded, because our generals had mismanaged the war. If he
argues thus, then remember, in Heaven's name, to ask him whether[n] it was from
some other city that he went as ambassador, or from this city itself? If it was
from some other, to whose success in war and to whose excellent generals he can
point, then it was natural for him to take Philip's money: but if it was from
Athens itself, why do we find him taking presents as part of a transaction which
involved the surrender of her possessions by the city which sent him? For in any
honest transaction the city that sent the ambassadors ought to have shared the
same fortune as the ambassadors whom she sent. {148} Consider also this further
point, men of Athens. Do you think that the successes of the Phocians against
the Thebans in the war, or the successes of Philip against you, were the more
considerable? Those of the Phocians against the Thebans, I am quite certain. At
least, they held Orchomenus and Coroneia and the Tilphossaeum;[n] they had
intercepted the Theban garrison at Neones;[n] they had slain two hundred of them
on Hedyleum;[n] a trophy had been raised, their cavalry were victorious, and a
whole Iliad of misfortunes had beset the Thebans. You were in no such position
as this, and may you never be so in the future! Your most serious disadvantage
in your hostilities with Philip was your inability to inflict upon him all the
damage that you desired; you were completely secure against suffering any harm
yourselves. How is it then that, as the result of one and the same Peace, the
Thebans, who were being so badly worsted in the war, have recovered their own
possessions and, in addition, have gained those of their enemies; while you, the
Athenians, have lost under the Peace even what you retained safely through the
war? It is because their ambassadors did not sell their interests, while these
men have sold yours. [Ah! he will say,[n] but the allies were exhausted by the
war....]. That this is how these things were accomplished, you will realize
still more clearly from what I have yet to say.
{150}For when this Peace was concluded--the Peace of Philocrates, which
Aeschines supported--and when Philip's envoys had set sail, after receiving the
oaths from us--and up to this time nothing that had been done was irreparable,
for though the Peace was disgraceful and unworthy of Athens, still we were to
get those marvellous good things in return--then I say, I asked and told the
ambassadors to sail as quickly as possible to the Hellespont, and not to
sacrifice any of our positions there, nor allow Philip to occupy them in the
interval. {151} For I knew very well that everything that is sacrificed when
peace is in process of being concluded after war, is lost to those who are so
neglectful; since no one who had been induced to make peace with regard to the
situation as a whole ever yet made up his mind to fight afresh for the sake of
possessions which had been left unsecured; such possessions those who first take
them keep. And, apart from this, I thought that, if we sailed, the city could
not fail to secure one of two useful results. Either, when we were there and had
received Philip's oath according to the decree, he would restore the possessions
of Athens which he had taken, and keep his hands off the rest; {152} or, if he
did not do so, we should immediately report the fact to you here, and so, when
you saw his grasping and perfidious disposition in regard to those your remoter
and less important interests, you would not in dealing with greater matters
close at hand--in other words, with the Phocians and Thermopylae--let anything
be lost. If he failed to forestall you in regard to these, and you were not
deceived, your interests would be completely secured, and he would give you your
rights without hesitation. {153} And I had good reason for such expectations.
For if the Phocians were still safe and sound, as they then were, and were in
occupation of Thermopylae, Philip would have had no terror to brandish before
you, which could make you overlook any of your rights. For he was not likely
either to make his way through by land, or to win a victory by sea, and so reach
Attica; while if he refused to act as was right, you would instantly close his
ports, reduce him to straits for money and other supplies, and place him in a
state of siege; and in that case it would be he, and not you, to whom the
advantages of peace would be the overmastering consideration. {154} And that I
am not inventing this or claiming wisdom after the event--that I knew it at
once, and, with your interest in view, foresaw what must happen and told my
colleagues--you will realize from the following facts. When there was no longer
any meeting of the Assembly available (since you had used up all the appointed
days) and still the ambassadors did not depart, but wasted time here, I proposed
a decree as a member of the Council, to which the people had given full powers,
that the ambassadors should depart directly, and that the admiral Proxenus
should convey them to any district in which he should ascertain Philip to be. My
proposal was just what I now tell you, couched expressly in those terms. (_To
the clerk_.) Take this decree and read it.
[_The decree is read_.]
{155} I brought them away, then, from Athens, sorely against their will, as you
will clearly understand from their subsequent conduct. When we reached Oreus and
joined Proxenus, instead of sailing and following their instructions, they made
a circuitous journey by land, and before we reached Macedonia we had spent three
and twenty days. All the rest of the time, until Philip's arrival, we were
sitting idle at Pella; and this, with the journey, brought the time up to fifty
days in all. {156} During this interval, in a time of peace and truce, Philip
was taking Doriscus,[n] Thrace, the district towards the Walls, the Sacred
Mountain--everything, in fact, and making his own arrangements there; while I
spoke out repeatedly and insistently, first in the tone of a man giving his
opinion to his colleagues, then as though I were informing the ignorant, till at
last I addressed them without any concealment as men who had sold themselves and
were the most impious of mankind. {157} And the man who contradicted me openly
and opposed everything which I urged and which your decree enjoined, was
Aeschines. Whether his conduct pleased all the other ambassadors as well, you
will know presently; for as yet I allege nothing about any of them, and make no
accusation: no one of them need appear an honest man to-day because I oblige him
to do so, but only of his own free will, and because he was no partner in
Aeschines' crimes. That the conduct in question was disgraceful, atrocious,
venal, you have all seen. Who were the partners in it, the facts will show.
{158} 'But of course, during this interval they received the oaths from Philip's
allies, or carried out their other duties.' Far from it! For though they had
been absent from home three whole months, and received 1,000 drachmae from you
for their expenses, they did not receive the oaths from a single city, either on
their journey to Macedonia, or on the way back. It was in the inn before the
temple of the Dioscuri--any one who has been to Pherae will understand me--when
Philip was already on the march towards Athens at the head of an army, that the
oaths were taken, in a fashion which was disgraceful, men of Athens, and
insulting to you. {159} To Philip, however, it was worth anything that the
transaction should have been carried out in this form. These men had failed in
their attempt to insert among the terms of the Peace the clause which excluded
the people of Halus and Pharsalus; Philocrates had been forced by you to expunge
the words, and to write down expressly 'the Athenians and the allies of the
Athenians'; and Philip did not wish any of his own allies to have taken such an
oath; for then they would not join him in his campaign against those possessions
of yours which he now holds, but would plead their oaths in excuse; {160} nor
did he wish them to be witnesses of the promises on the strength of which he was
obtaining the Peace. He did not wish it to be revealed to the world that the
city of Athens had not, after all, been defeated in the war, and that it was
Philip who was eager for peace, and was promising to do great things for Athens
if he obtained it. It was just to prevent the revelation of these facts that he
thought it inadvisable that the ambassadors should go to any of the cities;
while for their part, they sought to gratify him in everything, with
ostentatious and extravagant obsequiousness. {161} But when all this is proved
against them--their waste of time, their sacrifice of your position in Thrace,
their complete failure to act in accordance either with your decree or your
interests, their lying report to you--how is it possible that before a jury of
sane men, anxious to be true to their oath, Aeschines can be acquitted? To
prove, however, that what I say is true (_to the clerk_), first read the decree,
under which it was our duty to exact the oaths, then Philip's letter, and then
the decree of Philocrates and that of the people.
[_The decrees and letter are read._]
{162} And now, to prove that we should have caught Philip in the Hellespont, had
any one listened to me, and carried out your instructions as contained in the
decrees, (_to the clerk_) call the witnesses who were there on the spot.
[_The witnesses are called._]
(_To the clerk._) Next read also the other deposition--Philip's answer to
Eucleides,[n] who is present here, when he went to Philip afterwards.
[_The deposition is read._]
{163} Now listen to me, while I show that they cannot even deny that it was to
serve Philip's interest that they acted as they did. For when we set out on the
First Embassy--that which was to discuss the Peace--you dispatched a herald in
advance to procure us a safe conduct. Well, on that occasion, as soon as ever
they had reached Oreus, they did not wait for the herald, or allow any time to
be lost; but though Halus was being besieged, they sailed there direct, and
then, leaving the town again, came to Parmenio, who was besieging it, set out
through the enemy's camp to Pagasae, and, continuing their journey, only met the
herald at Larissa: with such eager haste did they proceed. {164} But at a time
when there was peace and they had complete security for their journey and you
had instructed them to make haste, it never occurred to them either to quicken
their pace or to go by sea. And why? Because on the former occasion Philip's
interest demanded that the Peace should be made as soon as possible; whereas now
it required that as long an interval as possible should be wasted before the
oaths were taken. {165} To prove that this is so, (_to the clerk_) take and read
this further deposition.
[_The deposition is read._]
How could men be more clearly convicted of acting to serve Philip's interest
throughout, than by the fact that they sat idle, when in your interest they
ought to have hurried, on the very same journey over which they hastened onward,
without even waiting for the herald, when they ought not to have moved at all?
{166} Now observe how each of us chose to conduct himself while we were there,
sitting idle at Pella. For myself, I chose to rescue and seek out the captives,
spending my own money and asking Philip to procure their ransom[n] with the sums
which he was offering us in the form of presents. How Aeschines passed his whole
time you shall hear presently. {167} What then was the meaning of Philip's
offering money to us in common? He kept sounding us all--for this too I would
have you know. And how? He sent round privately to each of us, and offered us,
men of Athens, a very large sum in gold. But when he failed in a particular case
(for I need not mention my own name myself, since the proceedings and their
results will of themselves show to whom I refer), he thought that we should all
be innocent enough to accept what was given to us in common; and then, if we all
alike had a share, however small, in the common present, those who had sold
themselves privately would be secure. {168} Hence these offers, under the guise
of presents to his guest-friends. And when I prevented this, my colleagues
further divided among themselves the sum thus offered. But when I asked Philip
to spend this sum on the prisoners, he could neither, without discredit,
denounce my colleagues, and say, 'But So-and-so has the money, and So-and-so,'
nor yet evade the expense. So he gave the promise, but deferred its fulfilment,
saying that he would send the prisoners home in time for the Panathenaea. (_To
the clerk._) Read the evidence of Apollophanes, and then that of the rest of
those present.
[_The evidence is read._]
{169} Now let me tell you how many of the prisoners I myself ransomed. For while
we were sitting waiting there at Pella, before Philip's arrival, some of the
captives--all, in fact, who were out on bail--not trusting, I suppose, my
ability to persuade Philip to act as I wished, said that they wished to ransom
themselves, and to be under no obligation to Philip for their freedom: and they
borrowed, one three minae, another five, and another--whatever the amount of the
ransom was in each case. {170} But when Philip had promised that he would ransom
the rest, I called together those to whom I had advanced the money; I reminded
them of the circumstances; and, lest they should seem to have suffered by their
impatience, and to have been ransomed at their own cost, poor men as they were,
when all their comrades expected to be set free by Philip, I made them a present
of their ransom. To prove that I am speaking the truth, (_to the clerk_) read
these depositions.
[_The depositions are read._]
{171} These, then, are the sums which I excused them, and gave as a free gift to
fellow citizens who had met with misfortune. And so, when Aeschines says
presently, in his speech to you, 'Demosthenes, if, as you say, you knew, from
the time when I supported Philocrates' proposal, that we were acting altogether
dishonestly, why did you go again as our colleague on the subsequent mission to
take the oaths, instead of entering a sworn excuse?' remember this, that I had
promised those whose freedom I had procured that I would bring them their
ransom, and deliver them to the best of my power. {172} It would have been a
wicked thing to break my word and abandon my fellow citizens in their
misfortune; while, on the other hand, if I had excused myself upon oath from
service, it would not have been altogether honourable, nor yet safe, to make a
tour there in a private capacity. For let destruction, utter and early, fall
upon me, if I would have joined in a mission with these men for a very large sum
of money, had it not been for my anxiety to rescue the prisoners. It is a proof
of this, that though you twice elected me to serve on the Third Embassy, I twice
swore an excuse. And all through the journey in question my policy was entirely
opposed to theirs. {173} All, then, that it was within my own power to decide in
the course of my mission resulted as I have described; but wherever in virtue of
their majority they gained their way, all has been lost. And yet, had there been
any who listened to me, all would have been accomplished in a manner congruous
with my own actions. For I was not so pitiful a fool as to give away money, when
I saw others receiving it, in my ambition to serve you, and yet not to desire
what could have been accomplished without expense, and would have brought far
greater benefits to the whole city. I desired it intensely, men of Athens; but,
of course, they had the advantage over me.
{174} Come now and contemplate the proceedings of Aeschines and those of
Philocrates, by the side of my own; for the comparison will bring out their
character more vividly. Well, they first pronounced the exclusion from the Peace
of the Phocians and the people of Halus, and of Cersobleptes, contrary to your
decree and to the statements made to you. Then they attempted to tamper with and
alter the decree, which we had come there as ambassadors to execute. Then they
entered the Cardians as allies of Philip and voted against sending the dispatch
which I had written to you, sending in its stead an utterly unsound dispatch of
their own composition. {175} And then the gallant gentleman asserted that I had
promised Philip that I would overthrow your constitution, because I censured
these proceedings, not only from a sense of their disgracefulness, but also from
fear lest through the fault of these men I might have to share their ruin: while
all the time he was himself having incessant private interviews with Philip.
And, to pass over all besides, Dercylus (not I) watched him through the night at
Pherae, along with my slave who is here present; and as the slave came out of
Philip's tent he took him and bade him report what he had seen, and remember it
himself; and finally, this disgusting and shameless fellow was left behind with
Philip for a night and a day, when we went away. {176} And to prove that I am
speaking the truth, I will myself give evidence which I have committed to
writing,[n] so as to put myself in the position of a responsible witness; and
after that I call upon each of the other ambassadors, and I will compel them to
choose their alternative--either to give evidence, or to swear that they have no
knowledge of the matter. If they take the latter course, I shall convict them of
perjury beyond doubt.
[_Evidence is read._]
{177} You have seen now by what mischief and trouble I was hampered, throughout
our absence from home. For what must you imagine their conduct to have been
there, with their paymaster close at hand, when they act as they do before your
very eyes, though you have power either to confer honour or, on the other hand,
to inflict punishment upon them?
I wish now to reckon up from the beginning the charges which I have made, in
order to show you that I have done all that I undertook to do at the beginning
of my speech. {178} I have proved that there was no truth in his report--that,
on the contrary, he deceived you--by the evidence not of words but of the actual
course of events. I have proved that he was the cause of your unwillingness to
hear the truth from my mouth, captivated as you were at the time by his promises
and undertakings; that he gave you advice which was the exact opposite of that
which he ought to have given, opposing the Peace which was suggested by the
allies, and advocating the Peace of Philocrates; that he wasted time, in order
that you might not be able to march to the aid of the Phocians, even if you
wished to do so; and that he has done many atrocious deeds during his absence
from home; for he has betrayed and sold everything, he has taken bribes, and has
left no form of rascality untried. These are the points which I promised at the
outset to prove, and I have proved them. {179} Observe, then, what follows; for
what I have now to say to you has already become a simple matter. You have sworn
that you will vote according to the laws and the decrees of the people and the
Council of Five Hundred. The defendant is proved, in all his conduct as
ambassador, to have acted in contravention of the laws, of the decrees, and of
justice. He ought, therefore, to be convicted in any court composed of rational
men. Even if there were no other crimes at his door, two of his actions are
sufficient to slay him; for he betrayed to Philip not only the Phocians but also
Thrace. {180} Two places in the whole world of greater value to Athens than
Thermopylae on land, and the Hellespont over sea, could not possibly be found;
and both these places these men have shamefully sold, and placed in Philip's
hands to be used against you. The enormity of this crime alone--the sacrifice of
Thrace and the Walls--apart from all the rest, might be proved in countless
ways,[n] and it is easy to point out how many men have been executed or fined
vast sums of money by you for such offences--Ergophilus,[n] Cephisodotus,[n]
Timomachus,[n] Ergocles[n] long ago, Dionysius, and others; all of whom
together, I may almost say, have done the city less harm than the defendant.
{181} But in those days, men of Athens, you still guarded against danger by
calculation and forethought; whereas now you overlook any danger which does not
annoy you from day to day, or cause you pain by its immediate presence, and then
pass such resolutions here as 'that Philip shall take the oath in favour of
Cersobleptes also,' 'that we will not take part in the proceedings of the
Amphictyons,' 'that we must amend the Peace.' But none of these resolutions
would have been required, had Aeschines then been ready to sail and to do what
was required. As it is, by urging us to go by land, he has lost all that we
could have saved by sailing; and by lying, all that could have been saved by
speaking the truth.
{182} He intends, I am told, to express immediately his indignation that he
alone of all the speakers in the Assembly should have to render an account of
his words. I will not urge that all speakers would reasonably be called upon to
render such an account, if any of their words were spoken for money; I only say
this. If Aeschines in his private capacity has spoken wildly on some occasion or
committed some blunder, do not be over-strict with him, but let it pass and
grant him pardon: but if as your ambassador he has deliberately deceived you for
money, then do not let him go, or tolerate the plea that he ought not to be
called to account for what he _said_. {183} Why, for what, if not for his words,
is an ambassador to be brought to justice? Ambassadors have no control over
ships or places or soldiers or citadels--no one puts such things in their
hands--but over words and times. As regards times, if he did not cause the times of
the city's opportunities to be lost, he is not guilty; but if he did so, he has
committed crime. And as to his words, if the words of his report were true or
expedient, let him escape; but if they were at once false, venal, and
disastrous, let him be convicted. {184} No greater wrong can a man do you, than
is done by lying speeches. For where government is based upon speeches, how can
it be carried on in security, if the speeches are not true? and if, in
particular, a speaker takes bribes and speaks to further the interests of the
enemy, how can you escape real danger? For to rob you of your opportunities is
not the same thing as to rob an oligarchy or a tyrant. Far from it. {185} Under
such governments, I imagine, everything is done promptly at a word of command.
But with you the Council must first hear about everything, and pass its
preliminary resolution--and even that not at any time, but only when notice has
been given of the reception of heralds and embassies: then you must convoke an
Assembly, and that only when the time comes for one, as ordained by law: then
those who speak for your true good have to master and overcome those who,
through ignorance or wickedness, oppose them. {186} Besides all this, even when
a measure is resolved upon, and its advantages are already plain, time must be
granted to the impecuniosity of the majority, in which they may procure whatever
means they require in order to be able to carry out what has been resolved. And
so he who causes times so critical to be lost, in a state constituted as ours
is, has not caused you to lose times, but has robbed you absolutely of the
realization of your aims.
{187} Now all those who are anxious to deceive you are very ready with such
expressions as 'disturbers of the city,' 'men who prevent Philip from conferring
benefits on the city.' In reply to these, I will use no argument, but will read
you Philip's letters, and will remind you of the occasion on which each piece of
deception took place, that you may know that Philip has got beyond this
exaggerated title of 'benefactor',[n] of which we are so sickened, in his
attempts to take you in by it.
[_Philip's letters are read._]
{188} Now although his work as ambassador has been so shameful, so detrimental
to you in many--nay, in all points, he goes about asking people what they think
of Demosthenes, who prosecutes his own colleagues. I prosecute you indeed,
whether I would or no, because throughout our entire absence from home you
plotted against me as I have said, and because now I have the choice of only two
alternatives: either I must appear to share with you the responsibility for such
work as yours, or I must prosecute you. {189} Nay, I deny that I was ever your
colleague in the Embassy. I say that your work as ambassador was an atrocious
work, while my own was for the true good of those present here. It is
Philocrates that has been your colleague, as you have been his, and Phrynon. For
your policy was the same as theirs, and you all approved of the same objects.
But 'where are the salt, the table, the libations that we shared?' So he asks
everywhere in his theatrical style--as though it were not the criminals, but the
upright, that were false to such pledges! {190} I am certain that though all the
Prytanes offer their common sacrifice on each occasion, and join one with
another in their meal and their libation, the good do not on this account copy
the bad; but if they detect one of their own number in crime they report the
fact to the Council and the people. In the very same way the Council offers its
inaugural sacrifice and feasts together, and joins in libations and sacred
rites. So do the generals, and, one may practically say, every body of
magistrates. Does that mean that they grant an indemnity to any of their number
who is guilty of crime? Very far from it. {191} Leon accuses Timagoras,[n] after
being his fellow ambassador for four years: Eubulus accuses Tharrex and
Smicythus, after sharing the banquet with them: the great Conon, the elder,
prosecuted Adeimantus,[n] though they were generals together. Which sinned
against the salt and the libation, Aeschines--the traitors and the faithless
ambassadors and the hirelings, or their accusers? Plainly those who violated, as
you have done, the sanctity, not of private libations, but of libations poured
in the name of the whole country.
{192} That you may realize that these men have been the most worthless and
wicked not only of all who have ever gone to Philip in a public capacity, but
even of those who have gone as private persons, and indeed of all mankind, I ask
you to listen to me while I describe briefly an incident which falls outside the
story of this Embassy. When Philip took Olynthus he celebrated Olympian games,
and gathered together all the artists to the sacrifice and the festal gathering.
{193} And while he was entertaining them at a banquet, and crowning the victors,
he asked Satyrus, the well-known comic actor, why he alone requested no favour
of him. Did he see any meanness in him, or any dislike towards himself? Satyrus
answered (so the story goes) that he happened to stand in no need of the things
for which the rest were asking, but that the boon which he would like to ask was
a favour which it would be very easy indeed for Philip to bestow; only he was
afraid that he might fail to obtain it. {194} Philip bade him name his request,
declaring with some spirit that there was nothing that he would not do for him.
Satyrus is then said to have stated that Apollophanes of Pydna was formerly his
friend and guest-friend,[n] and that when he had perished by a treacherous
assassination, his kinsman had, in alarm, conveyed his daughters, then little
children, to Olynthus secretly. 'These girls,' said Satyrus, 'have been taken
prisoners at the capture of the city; they are with you, and they are now of
marriageable age. {195} It is these girls that I beg and entreat you to give to
me. But I should like you to hear and understand what sort of present you will
be giving me, if you really give it. I shall gain nothing by receiving it: I
shall give them in marriage, and a dowry with them, and shall not allow them to
suffer anything unworthy of us or of their father.' When those who were present
at the feast heard this, there was such applause and cheering and approbation on
all hands, that Philip was moved and granted the request, although the
Apollophanes who was spoken of was one of the murderers of Alexander, Philip's
brother. {196} Now let us examine side by side with this banquet of Satyrus,
that in which these men took part in Macedonia. Observe what likeness and
resemblance there is between the two! For these men were invited to the house of
Xenophron, the son of Phaedimus, who was one of the Thirty,[n] and went. I did
not go. But when it came to the time for wine, he brought in an Olynthian woman
--good-looking, but well-bred and modest, as the event proved. {197} At first, I
believe (according to the account which Iatrocles gave me the next day), they
only forced her to drink a little wine quietly and to eat some dessert; but as
the feast proceeded and they waxed warm, they bade her recline and even sing a
song. And when the poor creature, who was in great distress, neither would nor
could do as they bade her, Aeschines and Phrynon declared that it was an insult
and quite intolerable, that a captive woman--one of those god-forsaken devils
the Olynthians--should give herself airs. 'Call a slave,' they cried, 'and let
some one bring a strap.' A servant came with a lash; they had been drinking, I
imagine, and were easily annoyed; and as soon as she said something and burst
into tears, the servant tore open her dress and gave her a number of cuts across
the back. {198} Beside herself with the pain and the sense of her position, the
woman leaped up and fell before the knees of Iatrocles, overturning the table as
she did so. And had he not rescued her, she would have perished as the victim of
a drunken debauch; for the drunkenness of this abominable creature is something
horrible.[n] The case of this woman was also mentioned in Arcadia before the Ten
Thousand, and Diophantus reported to you what I shall now force him to testify;
for the matter was much talked of in Thessaly and everywhere.
{199} Yet with all this on his conscience this unclean creature will dare to
look you in the face, and will very soon be speaking to you of the life he has
lived, in that magnificent voice of his. It chokes me to hear him! Does not the
jury know how at first you used to read over the books to your mother at her
initiations,[n] and wallow amid bands of drunken men at their orgies, while
still a boy? {200} and how you were afterwards under-clerk to the magistrates,
and played the rogue for two or three drachmae?[n] and how at last, in recent
days, you thought yourself lucky to get a parasitic living in the training-rooms
of others, as a third-rate actor? What then is the life of which you propose to
speak? Where have you lived it? For the life which you have really lived has
been what I have described. And how much does he take upon himself! He brought
another man to trial here for unnatural offences! But I leave this point for the
moment. (_To the clerk._) First, read me these depositions.
[_The depositions are read._]
{201} So many, then, and so gross, gentlemen of the jury, being the crimes
against you of which he stands convicted--and what wickedness do they not
include? he is corrupt, he is a minion, he is under the curse, a liar, a
betrayer of his own people; all the most heinous offences are there--he will not
defend himself against a single one of these charges, and will have no defence
to offer that is either just or straightforward. But the statement which, I am
told, he intends to make, borders on madness; though perhaps a man who has no
other plea to offer must contrive anything that he can. {202} For I hear that he
is to say that I, forsooth, have been a partner in everything of which I accuse
him; that at first I used to approve of his policy and to act with him; and that
I have suddenly changed my mind and become his accuser. As a defence of his
conduct such assertions are, of course, neither legitimate nor to the point,
though they do imply some kind of charge against myself; for, of course, if I
have acted thus, I am a worthless person. But the conduct itself is no better
for that. Far from it! {203} At the same time, I think it is proper for me to
prove to you both the points in question--first, that if he makes such an
assertion he will be lying; and secondly, what is the just line of defence. Now
a just and straightforward defence must show either that the acts charged
against him were not committed, or that having been committed, they are to the
advantage of the city. {204} But Aeschines cannot do either of these things. For
I presume that it is not possible for him to say that it is to the advantage of
the city that the Phocians have been ruined, that Thermopylae is in Philip's
hands, that Thebes is powerful, that there are soldiers in Euboea and plotting
against Megara, and that the Peace should not have been sworn to,[n] when on the
former occasion he announced the very contrary of all these things to you in the
guise of advantages, and advantages about to be realized? Nor will he be able to
persuade you that these things have not been done, when you yourselves have seen
them and know the facts well. {205} It remains for me, therefore, to show you
that I have had no share in any of their proceedings. Shall I then dismiss
everything else from consideration--all that I have said against them in your
presence, all my collisions with them during our absence, all my antagonism to
them from first to last--and produce my opponents themselves as witnesses to the
fact that my conduct and theirs have been absolutely contrary the one to the
other--that they have taken money to your detriment, and that I refused to
receive it? Then mark what I say.
{206} Who, would you say, was of all men in Athens the most offensive, most
overflowing with effrontery and contemptuousness? I am sure that none of you,
even by mistake, would name any other than Philocrates. And who, would you say,
possessed the loudest voice and could enunciate whatever he pleased most
clearly? Aeschines the defendant, I am sure. Who is it then that these men
describe as cowardly and timid before a crowd, while I call him cautious? It is
myself; for I have never annoyed you or forced myself upon you against your
will. {207} Now at every meeting of the Assembly, as often as a discussion has
arisen upon these subjects, you hear me accusing and convicting these men,
declaring explicitly that they have taken money and have sold all the interests
of the city. And not one of them has ever to this day contradicted the
statement, when he heard it, or opened his mouth, or shown himself. {208} What
then is the reason, why the most offensive men in the city, the men with the
loudest voices, are so cowed before me, the timidest of men, whose voice is no
louder than any other? It is because Truth is strong; while to them, on the
other hand, the consciousness of having sold public interests is a source of
weakness. It is this that steals away the boldness of these men, this that binds
down their tongues and stops their mouths--chokes them, and makes them silent.
{209} You remember, of course, how at the recent meeting in the Peiraeus, when
you would not have him for your representative,[n] he was shouting that he would
impeach me and indict me, and crying, 'Oh! Oh!' But such steps are the beginning
of long and numerous trials and speeches; whereas the alternative was but to
utter perhaps two or three words, which even a slave purchased yesterday could
have pronounced--'Men of Athens, this is utterly atrocious. Demosthenes is
accusing me here of crimes in which he himself was a partner; he says that I
have taken money, when he has taken money, or shared it, himself.' {210} But no
such words, no such sound, did he utter, nor did one of you hear him do so; he
only uttered threats to a different effect. And why? Because he knew that he had
done what he was charged with doing; he was abjectly afraid to use any such
expressions; his resolution could not rise to them, but shrank back; for it was
in the grip of his conscience; whereas there was nothing to hinder him from
uttering irrelevant abuse and slander. {211} But here is the strongest proof of
all, and it consists not in words, but in fact. For when I was anxious to do
what it was right to do, namely, to make a second report to you, after serving a
second time as ambassador, Aeschines came before the Board of Auditors with a
number of witnesses, and forbade them to call me before the court, since I had
rendered my account already, and was no longer liable to give it. The incident
was extremely ridiculous. And what was the meaning of it? He had made his report
with reference to the First Embassy, against which no one brought any charge,
and did not wish to go before the court again with regard to the Second Embassy,
with reference to which he now appears before you, and within which all his
crimes fell. {212} But if I came before you twice, it became necessary for him
also to appear again; and so he tried to prevent them from summoning me. But
this action of his, men of Athens, plainly proves to you two things--first, that
he had so condemned himself that none of you can now acquit him without impiety;
and secondly, that he will not speak a word of truth about me. Had he anything
true to assert, he would have been found asserting it and accusing me then; he
would certainly not have tried to prevent my being summoned. {213} To prove the
truth of what I say, (_to the clerk_) call me the witnesses to the facts.
But further, if he makes slanderous statements against me which have nothing to
do with the Embassy, there are many good reasons for your refusing to listen to
him. For I am not on my trial to-day, and when I have finished my speech I have
no further time allotted to me.[n] What can such statements mean, except that he
is bankrupt of legitimate arguments? For who that was on his trial and had any
defence to make, would prefer to accuse another? {214} And consider also this
further point, gentlemen of the jury. If I were on my trial, with the defendant
Aeschines for accuser and Philip for judge; and if, being unable to disprove my
guilt, I abused Aeschines and tried to sully his character, do you not think
that Philip would be indignant at the very fact of a man abusing _his_
benefactors in his own presence? Do not _you_ then prove worse than Philip; but
force Aeschines to defend himself against the charges which are the subject of
the trial. (_To the clerk._) Read the deposition.
[_The deposition is read._]
{215} So for my part, because I had nothing on my conscience, I felt it my duty
to render an account and submit all the information that the laws required,
while the defendant took the opposite view. How then can his conduct and mine
have been the same? or how can he possibly assert against me now things of which
he has never even accused me before? It is surely impossible. And yet he will
assert these things, and, Heaven knows, it is natural enough. For you doubtless
know well that ever since the human race began and trials were instituted, no
one was ever convicted admitting his crime: they brazen it out, they deny it,
they lie, they make up excuses, they take every means to escape paying the
penalty. {216} _You_ must not let any of these devices mislead you to-day; your
judgement must be given upon the facts, in the light of your own knowledge; you
must not attend to words, whether mine or his, still less to the witnesses whom
he will have ready to testify anything, since he has Philip to pay his expenses
--you will see how glibly they will give evidence for him; nor must you care
whether his voice is fine and loud, or whether mine is poor. {217} For it is no
trial of orators or of speeches that you have to hold to-day, if you are wise
men. You have rather, in the name of a cause shamefully and terribly ruined, to
thrust off the present disgrace on to the shoulders of the guilty, after a
scrutiny of those results which are known to you all. {218} And these results,
which you know and do not require us to tell you of--what are they? If the
consequences of the Peace have been all that they promised you; if you admit
that you were so filled with an unmanly cowardice, that, though the enemy was
not in your land, though you were not blockaded by sea, though your city was
menaced by no other danger whatever, though, on the contrary, the price of corn
was low and you were in other respects as well off as you are to-day, {219}
though you knew beforehand on the information of these men that your allies were
about to be ruined and Thebes to become powerful, that Philip was about to
occupy the Thracian strongholds and to establish a basis of operations against
you in Euboea, and that all that has now happened was about to come to pass, you
nevertheless made peace cheerfully;--if that is so, then acquit Aeschines, and
do not add perjury to all your disgrace. For in that case he is guilty of no
crime against you; it is I that am mad and brainsick to accuse him now. {220}
But if what they told you was altogether the reverse of this, if it was a tale
of great generosity--of Philip's love for Athens, of his intention to save the
Phocians, to check the insolence of the Thebans, and beside all this (if he
obtained the Peace) to confer on you benefits that would more than compensate
for Amphipolis, and to restore to you Euboea and Oropus; if, I say, they stated
and promised all this, and have now totally deceived and cheated you, and have
all but robbed you of Attica itself, then condemn him, and do not, in addition
to all the outrages--I know not what other word to use--that you have suffered,
carry with you to your homes, through upholding their corruption, the curse and
the guilt of perjury.
{221} Again, gentlemen of the jury, ask yourselves what reason I could have had
for choosing to accuse these men, if they had done no wrong? You will find none.
Is it pleasant to have many enemies? Pleasant? It is not even safe. Was there
any quarrel between me and Aeschines? None. What then? 'You were afraid for
yourself, and in your cowardice thought to save yourself this way:' for that, I
have heard, is what he says. What? I was afraid, when, according to your own
statement, there was nothing to be afraid of, and no crime had been committed?
If he repeats such an assertion, men of Athens, consider[n] what these men
themselves, the actual criminals, ought to suffer for their offences, if I, who
am absolutely guiltless, was afraid of being ruined owing to them. {222} But
what is my motive for accusing you? I am an informer, of course, and want to get
money out of you![n] And which was the easier course for me--to get money out of
Philip, who offered a large sum--to get as much as any of these men, and to have
not only Philip for my friend, but also my opponents (for they would assuredly
have been friends, had I been partner with them, since even now they have no
inherited quarrel against me, but only the fact that I refused to join in their
actions); or to beg them for a share of their gains, and be regarded with
hostility both by Philip and by them? Is it likely that when I was ransoming the
prisoners at such cost to myself, I should ask to receive a paltry sum from
these men, in a disgraceful manner and with their enmity accompanying it? {223}
Impossible! My report was true. I abstained from taking money for the sake of
justice and truth and my own future. For I thought, as others among you have
thought, that my own uprightness would receive its reward, and that I must not
barter my ambition to stand well with you for gain of any kind. And I abhor
these men, because I saw that they were vile and impious in the conduct of their
mission, and because I have been robbed of the objects of my own ambition, owing
to their corruption, now that you have come to be vexed with the Embassy as a
whole. And it is because I foresee what must happen that I now accuse him, and
appear to challenge his report; for I would have it decided here, in a trial
before a jury, that my conduct has been the opposite of his. {224} And I am
afraid--afraid, I say, for I will speak all my mind to you--that though when the
time comes you may drag me in spite of my entire innocence to the same ruin with
them, you are now utterly supine. For, men of Athens, you appear to me to be
altogether unstrung, waiting to suffer the horrors which others are suffering
before your eyes, and taking no precautions, no thought for the city, which for
so long has been exposed to destruction in many a dreadful form. {225} Is it
not, think you, dreadful and preternatural? For even where I had resolved upon
silence, I am driven to speak. You doubtless know Pythocles here, the son of
Pythodorus. I had been on very kindly terms with him, and to this day there has
been no unpleasantness between us. He avoids me now, when he meets me--ever
since he visited Philip--and if he is obliged to encounter me anywhere, he
starts away immediately, lest any one should see him talking with me. But with
Aeschines he walks all round the marketplace, discussing their plans. {226} Now
is it not a terrible and shocking thing, men of Athens, that those who have made
it their choice to foster Philip's interests should be able to rely upon so
accurate a discrimination on Philip's part, that all that any one of them does
here can no more be hid from Philip (so they believe) than if he were standing
by their side, and that his friends and foes alike are those that Philip
chooses; while those whose life is lived for _your_ good, who are greedy of
honour at _your_ hands, and have not betrayed you, should be met by such
deafness, such blindness, on your part, that to-day I have to wrestle with these
devils incarnate on equal terms, and that before you, who know the whole truth?
{227} Would you know or hear the cause of these things? I will tell you, and I
beg that none of you be angry with me for speaking the truth. It is, I imagine,
that Philip has but one body and one soul, and it is with all his heart that he
cherishes those who do him good and detests those who do him evil: whereas each
of you, in the first place, has no feeling that the good or the evil which is
being done to the city, is being done to himself; {228} other feelings are of
more consequence, and often lead you astray--pity, envy, anger, favour towards
the suppliant, and an infinite number of other motives: while if a man has
actually escaped all these, he will still not escape from those who do not want
such a man to exist at all. And so the error due to each of these single causes
steals on little by little, till the state is exposed to the whole accumulated
mischief.
{229} Do not fall victims to any such error to-day, men of Athens: do not let
the defendant go, when he has done you all this wrong. For honestly, if you let
him go, what will be said of you? 'Certain men,' it will be said, 'went as
ambassadors to Philip yonder--Philocrates, Aeschines, Phrynon, and Demosthenes;
and, what happened? One of them not only gained nothing by his mission, but
ransomed the prisoners at his private expense; another, with the money for which
he sold the interests of his country, went about purchasing harlots and fish.
{230} One of them, the abominable Phrynon, sent his son to Philip before he had
registered him as an adult; the other did nothing unworthy of himself or his
city. One, though serving as choregus and trierarch,[n] felt it his duty
voluntarily to incur that further expense [to ransom the prisoners] rather than
see any of his fellow citizens suffering misfortune for want of means; the
other, so far from rescuing any of those who were already in captivity, joined
in bringing a whole district, and more than 10,000 infantry and 1,000 cavalry
with them, the forces of the actual allies of his country, into captivity to
Philip. What followed? {231} When the Athenians got them into their hands (for
they had long known the truth) what did they do? They let go the men who had
received bribes and had disgraced themselves, and their city, and their
children; they thought that these were wise men, and that all was well[n] with
the city; and as for their accuser, they thought him thunderstruck--a man who
did not understand his country, and did not know where to fling his money away.'
{232} And who, men of Athens, with this example before his eyes, will be willing
to offer you his honest service? who will act as ambassador for nothing, if he
is not only to gain nothing by it, but is not to be more trustworthy in your
eyes than those who have taken money? You are not only trying these men to-day,
but you are laying down a law for all future time--a law which will declare
whether your ambassadors are to serve the enemy for a price, or to act
disinterestedly for your true good and to take no bribe? {233} On all the other
points you require no evidence; but to prove that Phrynon sent his son, (_to the
clerk_) call me the witnesses to the facts.
Aeschines then did not prosecute Phrynon, for sending his own son to Philip for
a disgraceful purpose. But because a man, who in his youth was above the average
in appearance, did not foresee the suspicion which his good looks might entail,
and afterwards lived a somewhat fast life, he has prosecuted him for unnatural
offences.
{234} Now let me speak of the banquet and the decree; for I had almost
overlooked what I was especially bound to tell you. In drawing up the resolution
of the Council with reference to the First Embassy, and again in addressing the
people, at the assemblies in which you were to discuss the question of peace,
not a single word or act of a criminal nature on the part of these men having so
far come to light, I followed the ordinary custom, and proposed to accord them a
vote of thanks, and to invite them to the Town Hall. {235} And I did, of course,
entertain Philip's ambassadors as well, and on a very splendid scale, men of
Athens. For when I saw that in their own country they prided themselves even on
things like these, as showing their prosperity and splendour, I thought that I
must begin by outdoing them in this respect, and displaying even greater
magnificence. These incidents Aeschines will shortly bring forward to prove that
'Demosthenes himself voted thanks to us, and gave a banquet to the ambassadors',
without telling you the precise time when the incidents occurred. {236} For
these things belong to a time before any injury had been done to the city, and
before it was evident that they had sold themselves. The ambassadors had only
just arrived on their first visit; the people had still to hear what they
proposed; and there was nothing as yet to show that Aeschines would support
Philocrates, or that Philocrates would make such proposals as he did. If, then,
Aeschines uses any such argument, remember that the dates of the incidents are
earlier than those of his crimes. But since then there has been no friendliness
between myself and them, and no common action. (_To the clerk._) Read the
deposition.
[_The deposition is read._]
{237} Now perhaps his brother Philochares will support him, and Aphobetus. There
is much that you may fairly urge in reply to both; and I am obliged, men of
Athens, to speak to you quite freely and without any reserve. You, Philochares,
are a painter of vase-cases and drums; your brothers are under-clerks and quite
ordinary men--not that there is any harm in these things, but at the same time
they do not qualify a man to be a general.[n] And yet, Aphobetus and
Philochares, we thought you worthy to be ambassadors and generals, and to
receive the highest honours; {238} so that even if none of you were guilty of
any crime, we should owe no gratitude to you; you would rather owe gratitude to
us for your preferment. For we passed by many others, more deserving of such
honours than you were, and exalted you instead. But if in the enjoyment of these
very honours one of you has actually committed crimes, and crimes of such a
nature, how much more deserving are you of execration than of acquittal? Much
more, I am sure. Perhaps they will force their claims upon you, for they are
loud-voiced and shameless, and they have taken to themselves the motto that 'it
is pardonable for brother to help brother'. {239} But you must not give way.
Remember that if it is right for them to think of Aeschines, it is for you to
think of the laws and the whole State, and, above all, of the oath which you
yourselves, who sit here, have taken. Yes, and if they have entreated some of
you to save the defendant, then ask yourselves whether you are to save him if he
is proved innocent of crime, or even if he is proved guilty. If they ask you to
do so, should he be innocent, I too say that you must acquit him. But if you are
asked to acquit him, whatever he has done, then they have asked you to commit
perjury. For though your vote is secret, it will not be hidden from the gods;
and the framer of our law [which enjoins secret voting] was absolutely right,
when he saw that though none of these men will know which of you has granted his
request, the gods will know, and the unseen powers, who has given the unjust
vote. {240} And it is better for a man to lay up, for his children and himself,
those good hopes which _they_ can bestow, by giving the decision that is just
and right, than to win credit from these men for a favour of whose reality they
can have no certain knowledge, and to acquit the defendant, when his own
testimony condemns him. For what stronger testimony can I produce, Aeschines, to
prove how terrible your work as ambassador has been, than your own testimony
against yourself? For when you thought it necessary to involve in so great and
dreadful a calamity one who wished to reveal some of your actions as ambassador,
it is plain that you expected your own punishment to be a terrible one, if your
countrymen learned what you had done.
{241} That step, if you are wise, he will prove to have taken to his own
detriment; not only because it is an overwhelming proof of the nature of his
conduct as ambassador, but also because of those expressions which he used in
the course of the prosecution, and which are now at our disposal against
himself. For the principles of justice, as defined by you when you were
prosecuting Timarchus, must, I presume, be no less valid when used by others
against yourself. {242} His words to the jury on that occasion were these.
'Demosthenes intends to defend Timarchus, and to denounce my acts as ambassador.
And then, when he has led you off the point by his speech, he will brag of it,
and go about saying, "Well? what do you think?[2] Why I led the jury right away
from the point, and stole the case triumphantly out of their hands."' Then you
at least must not act thus, but must make your defence with reference to the
real points of your case, though, when you were prosecuting Timarchus on that
occasion, you permitted yourself to make any charges and assertions that you
chose.
{243} But there were verses too, which you recited before the jury, in your
inability to produce any witness to the charges on which you were prosecuting
Timarchus:--
Rumour, the voice of many folk, not all
Doth die, for Rumour too a goddess is.[3]
Well, Aeschines, all those who are present say that you have made money out of
your mission; and so it holds true against you, I suppose, that 'Rumour, the
voice of many folk, not all doth die'. {244} For observe how easily you can
ascertain how much larger a body of accusers appears in your case than in his.
Timarchus was not known even to all his neighbors; while there is not a man,
Hellene or foreigner, but says that you and your fellow ambassadors made money
out of your mission. And so, if the rumour is true, then the rumour which is the
voice of many folk is against you; and you have yourself laid down that such a
rumour is to be believed, that 'Rumour too a goddess is', and that the poet who
composed these lines was a wise man.
{245} Then, you remember, he collected some iambic verses, and recited the whole
passage; for instance:--
Whoso in evil company delights
Of him I ne'er enquired, for well I trow,
As is his company, such is the man.[3]
And 'when a man goes to the cockpit[n] and walks about with Pittalacus'--he
added more to the same effect--'surely,' said he, 'you know what to think of
him.' Well, Aeschines, these same verses will now exactly serve my turn against
you, and if I quote them to the jury, the quotation will be true and apposite.
'But whoso in the company delights' of Philocrates, and that when he is an
ambassador, 'Of him I ne'er enquired, for well I trow' that he has taken money,
as did Philocrates who does not deny it.
{246} He attempts to insult others by labelling them hack-writers[n] and
sophists. He shall himself be proved liable to these very imputations. The
verses he quoted are derived from the _Phoenix_ of Euripides--a play which has
never to this day been acted either by Theodorus or Aristodemus, the actors
under whom Aeschines always played third-rate parts, though it was performed by
Molon, and no doubt by other actors of former times. But the _Antigone_ of
Sophocles has often been acted by Theodorus and often by Aristodemus; and in
this play there are some admirable and instructive verses, which he must know
quite well by heart, since he has often delivered them himself, but which he has
omitted to quote. {247} For you know, I am sure, that in every tragedy it is, as
it were, the special privilege of third-rate actors to play in the role of
tyrants and sceptred kings. Consider, then, these excellent lines, placed by the
poet in the mouth of our Creon-Aeschines in this play--lines which he neither
repeated to himself to guide him as an ambassador, nor yet quoted to the jury.
(_To the clerk._) Read the passage.
_Verses from the 'Antigone' of Sophocles._
To learn aright the soul and heart and mind
Of any man--for that, device is none,
Till he be proved in government and law,
And so revealed. For he who guides the State,
Yet cleaves not in his counsels to the best,
But from some fear in prison locks his tongue,
Is in mine eyes, as he hath ever been,
Vilest of men. And him, who sets his friend
Before his land, I count of no esteem.
For I--be it known to God's all-viewing eye--
Would ne'er keep silence, seeing the march of doom
Upon this city--doom in safety's stead,
Nor ever take to me as mine own friend
My country's foe.' For this I know, that she,
Our country, is the ship that bears us safe,
And safe aboard her, while she sails erect,
We make good friends.
{248} None of these lines did Aeschines ever repeat to himself during his
mission. Instead of preferring his country he thought that to be friend and
guest-friend of Philip was much more important and profitable for himself, and
bade a long farewell to the wise Sophocles. He saw the 'march of doom' draw
near, in the campaign against the Phocians; but he gave no warning, no
announcement of what was to come. On the contrary, he helped to conceal it, he
helped to carry out the doom, he prevented those who would have given warning--
{249} not remembering that 'Our country is the ship that bears us safe, and safe
aboard her' his mother with the help of her initiations and purifications and
the property of the clients, on whom she lived, reared up these sons of hers to
their destined greatness;[n] while his father, who kept an elementary school, as
I am told by my elders, near the temple of the Hero-Physician,[n] made a living,
such as he could indeed, but still on the same ship. The sons, who had received
money as under-clerks and servants in all the magistrates' offices, were finally
elected clerks by you, and for two years continued to get their living in the
Round Chamber;[n] and Aeschines was just now dispatched as your ambassador--from
this same ship. He regarded none of these things. {250} He took no care that the
ship should sail erect. Nay, he capsized her; he sank the ship; he did all that
he could to bring her into the power of the enemy. What then? Are you not a
sophist? Aye, and a villanous one. Are you not a hack? Aye, and one detested of
Heaven--for you passed over the scene which you had so often performed and knew
well by heart, while you sought out a scene which you had never acted in your
life, and produced the passage in the hope of injuring one of your fellow
citizens.
{251} And now examine his speech about Solon. He told us that the statue of
Solon, with his hand concealed in the drapery of his robe, was erected as an
illustration of the self-restraint of the orators of that day. (This was in the
course of a scurrilous attack upon the impetuosity of Timarchus.) But the
Salaminians tell us that this statue was erected less than fifty years ago,
whereas some two hundred and forty years have passed between the time of Solon
and the present day; so that not only was the artist, who modelled him in this
attitude, not living in Solon's day, but even his grandfather was not. {252}
That then is what he told the jury, copying the attitude as he did so. But that
which it would have done his country far more good to see--the soul and the mind
of Solon--he did not copy. No, he did the very reverse. For when Salamis had
revolted from Athens and the death-penalty had been decreed against any one who
proposed to attempt its recovery, Solon, by singing, at the risk of his own
life,[n] a lay which he had composed, won back the island for his country, and
wiped out her disgrace: {253} while Aeschines, when the king and all the
Hellenes had decided that Amphipolis was yours, surrendered and sold it, and
supported Philocrates, who proposed the resolution for this purpose. It is
indeed worth his while (is it not?) to remember Solon! Nor was he content with
acting thus in Athens; for when he had gone to Macedonia, he did not even
mention the name of the place which it was the object of his mission to secure.
This, in fact, he reported to you himself, in words which doubtless you
remember: 'I too had something to say about Amphipolis; but in order that
Demosthenes might have an opportunity of speaking upon the subject, I left it to
him.' {254} Upon which I came forward and denied that Aeschines had left to me
anything which he was anxious to say to Philip; he would rather have given any
one a share in his lifeblood than in his speech. The truth is, I imagine, that
he had taken money; and as Philip had given him the money in order that he might
not have to restore Amphipolis, he could not speak in opposition to Philip's
case. Now (_to the clerk_) take this lay of Solon's and read it; and (_to the
jury_) then you will know how Solon used to hate all such men as this.
{255} It is not when you are speaking, Aeschines, but when you are upon an
embassy, that you should keep your hand within your robe. But on the Embassy you
held out your hand, and held it open; you brought shame to your countrymen: and
do you here assume a solemn air and recite in those practised tones the
miserable phrases that you have learned by heart, and expect to escape the
penalty for all your heinous crimes--even if you do go round with a cap on your
head,[n] uttering abuse against me? (_To the clerk._) Read the verses.
_Solon's Lay._
The Father's voice hath spoken,
Whose word is Destiny,
And the blest Gods have willed it,
The Gods who shall not die;
That ne'er shall the Destroyer
Prevail against our land;
The Dread Sire's valiant Daughter
Guards us with eye and hand.
Yet her own sons, in folly,
Would lay their country low,
For pelf; and in her leaders
An heart of sin doth grow.
For them--their pride's fell offspring--
There waiteth grievous pain;
For sated still, they know not
Their proud lust to contain.
Not theirs, if mirth be with them,
The decent, peaceful feast;
To sin they yield, and sinning
Rejoice in wealth increased.
No hallowed treasure sparing,
Nor people's common store,
This side and that his neighbour
Each robs with havoc sore.
The holy law of Justice
They guard not. Silent she,
Who knows what is and hath been,
Awaits the time to be.
Then cometh she to judgement,
With certain step, tho' slow;
E'en now she smites the city,
And none may 'scape the blow.
To thraldom base she drives us,
From slumber rousing strife,--
Fell war of kin, destroying
The young, the beauteous life.
The foemen of their country
In wicked bands combine,
Fit company; and stricken
The lovely land doth pine.
These are the Wrong, the Mischief,
That pace the earth at home;
But many a beggared exile
To other lands must roam--
Sold, chained in bonds unseemly;
For so to each man's hall
Comes home the People's Sorrow,
And leaps the high fence-wall.
No courtyard door can stay it;
It follows to his side,
Flee tho' he may, and crouching
In inmost chamber hide.
Such warning unto Athens
My spirit bids me sound,
That Lawlessness in cities
Spreads evil all around;
But Lawfulness and Order
Make all things good and right,
Chaining Sin's hands in fetters,
Quenching the proud soul's light,
Smoothing the rough, the sated
Staying, and withering
The flowers, that, fraught with ruin,
From fatal seed upspring.
The paths of crooked justice
Are turned into straight;
The ways of Pride grow gentle,
The ways of Strife and Hate;
Then baleful Faction ceases,
Then Health prevails alway,
And Wisdom still increases,
Beneath Law's wholesome sway.
{256} You hear, men of Athens, how Solon speaks of men like these, and of the
gods, who, he says, preserve the city. It is my belief and my hope that this
saying of his, that the gods preserve our city, is true at all times; but I
believe that all that has happened in connexion with the present examination is,
in a sense, a special proof of the goodwill of some unseen power towards the
city. {257} Consider what has happened. A man who as ambassador did a work of
great wickedness, and has surrendered countries in which the gods should have
been worshipped by yourselves and your allies, has disfranchised one who
accepted the challenge[n] to prosecute him. To what end? To the end that he
himself might meet with no pity or mercy for his own iniquities. Nay, more;
while prosecuting his victim he deliberately set himself to speak evil of me;
and again, before the People, he threatened to enter an indictment against me,
and said more to the same effect. And to what end? To the end that I, who had
the most perfect knowledge of all his acts of villany, and had followed them
closely throughout, might have your full indulgence in prosecuting him. {258}
Aye, and through postponing his appearance before you continually up to the
present moment, he has been insensibly brought to a time when, on account of
what is coming upon us, if for no other reason, it is neither possible nor safe
for you to allow him (after his corruption) to escape unscathed. For though, men
of Athens, you ought always to execrate and to punish those who are traitors and
corrupt, to do so at this time would be more than ever seasonable, and would
confer a benefit upon all mankind in common. {259} For a disease, men of Athens,
an awful disease has fallen upon Hellas--a disease hard to cope with, and
requiring abundant good fortune, and abundant carefulness on your own part. For
the most notable men in their several cities, the men who claim[n] to lead in
public affairs, are betraying their own liberty--unhappy men!--and bringing upon
themselves a self-chosen servitude, under the milder names of friendship and
companionship with Philip, and other such phrases; while the other citizens, and
the sovereign bodies in each city, however composed, whose duty it was to punish
these men and slay them out of hand, are so far from taking any such action,
that they admire and envy them, and every one would be glad to be in the same
case. {260} Yet it is from this very cause--it is through entertaining ambitions
like these--that the Thessalians, who up to yesterday or the day before had lost
thereby only their paramount position[n] and their dignity as a state, are now
already being stripped of their very liberty; for there are Macedonian garrisons
in some of their citadels. This same disease it is which has invaded the
Peloponnese and brought about the massacres in Elis, infecting the unhappy
people of that country with such insanity and frenzy, that in order to be lords
over one another and to gratify Philip, they murder their kinsmen and fellow
citizens. {261} Not even here has the disease been stayed: it has penetrated
Arcadia and turned it upside-down; and now many of the Arcadians, who should be
no less proud of liberty than yourselves--for you and they alone are indigenous
peoples--are declaring their admiration for Philip, erecting his image in
bronze, and crowning him; and, to complete the tale, they have passed a
resolution that, if he comes to the Peloponnese, they will receive him within
their walls. {262} The Argives have acted in exactly the same way. These events,
I say it in all solemnity and earnestness, call for no small precautions: for
this plague, men of Athens, that is spreading all around us, has now found its
way to Athens itself. While then we are still safe, ward it off, and take away
the citizenship of those who first introduced it. Beware lest otherwise you
realize the worth of the advice given you this day, only when there is no longer
anything that you can do. {263} Do you not perceive, men of Athens, how vivid
and plain an example has been afforded you by the unhappy Olynthians? The
destruction of those wretched men was due to nothing so much as to conduct like
that of which I speak. You can test this clearly if you review their history.
{264} For at a time when they possessed only 400 cavalry, and numbered not more
than 5,000 men in all, since the Chalcidians were not yet all united under one
government, the Spartans came against them with a large force, including both
army and fleet (for you doubtless remember that at that period the Spartans were
virtually masters both of land and sea); and yet, though this great force came
against them, the Olynthians lost neither the city nor any single fortress, but
won many battles, killed three of the enemy's commanders, and finally concluded
the war on their own terms.[n] {265} But when some of them began to take bribes,
and the people as a whole were foolish enough, or rather unfortunate enough, to
repose greater confidence in these men than in those who spoke for their own
good; when Lasthenes roofed his house with the timber which came from Macedonia,
and Euthycrates was keeping a large herd of cattle for which he had paid no one
anything; when a third returned with sheep, and a fourth with horses, while the
people, to whose detriment all this was being done, so far from showing any
anger or any disposition to chastise men who acted so, actually gazed on them
with envy, and paid them honour and regarded them as heroes--{266} when, I say,
such practices were gaining ground in this way, and corruption had been
victorious; then, though they possessed 1,000 cavalry and numbered more than
10,000 men; though all the surrounding peoples were their allies; though you
went to their assistance with 10,000 mercenaries and 50 ships, and with 4,000
citizen-soldiers as well, none of these things could save them. Before a year of
the war had expired they had lost all the cities in Chalcidice, while Philip
could no longer keep pace with the invitations of the traitors, and did not know
which place to occupy first. {267} Five hundred horsemen were betrayed by their
own commanders and captured by Philip, with their arms--a larger number than
were ever before captured by any one. And the men who acted thus were not
ashamed to face the sun or the earth--the soil of their native land--on which
they stood, or the temples, or the sepulchres of the dead, or the disgrace which
was bound to follow upon such deeds afterwards. Such is the madness and
distraction which corruption engenders. So it is for you--for you, the People--
to be wise, to refuse to suffer such things, and to visit them with public
chastisement. For it would be monstrous indeed, if, after the terrible
condemnation which you passed upon those who betrayed the Olynthians, it were
seen that you allowed the criminals who are in your very midst to go unpunished.
(_To the clerk._) Read the decree passed with reference to the Olynthians.
[_The decree is read._]
{268} This decree, gentlemen of the jury, is one which in the eyes of all,
Hellenes and foreigners alike, it was right and honourable in you to have passed
in condemnation of traitors and men detested of Heaven. And so, since the taking
of the bribe is the step which precedes such actions, and it is the bribe that
prompts the traitor's deeds, whenever, men of Athens, you find a man receiving a
bribe, you must count him a traitor as well. That one man betrays opportunities,
and another affairs of state, and another soldiers, means only, I imagine, that
each works mischief in the particular department over which he has control; but
there should be no distinction in your execration of all such men. {269} You,
men of Athens, are the only people in the world who can draw from your own
history examples which bear upon this matter, and who have those ancestors, whom
you rightly praise, to imitate in your actions. You may not be able, at the
present time, to imitate them in the battles, the campaigns, the perils in which
they distinguished themselves, since at the present moment you are at peace; but
at least you can imitate their wisdom. {270} For of wisdom there is need
everywhere; and a right judgement is no more laborious or troublesome a thing
than a wrong one. Each of you need sit here no longer, in order to judge and
vote on the question before him aright, and so to make his country's position a
better one, and worthy of our ancestors, than he must in order to judge and vote
wrongly, and so make it worse and unworthy of our ancestors. What then were
their sentiments on this matter? (_To the clerk._) Take this, clerk, and read
it: (_to the jury_) for I would have you see that the acts towards which you are
so indifferent are acts for which your forefathers voted death to the doers.
(_To the clerk._) Read.
[_An inscription is read._]
{271} You hear the inscription, men of Athens, declaring that Arthmius[n] of
Zeleia, son of Pythonax, is a foe and a public enemy to the people of Athens and
their allies--both he and all his house. And why? Because he brought the gold
from the foreigner to the Hellenes. Apparently, therefore, we may judge from
this, that your ancestors sought to ensure that no one, not even a stranger,
should work mischief against Hellas for money; whereas you do not even seek to
prevent any of your fellow citizens from injuring his own city. {272} 'But,' it
may be said, 'the inscription occupies a quite unimportant position.' On the
contrary, although all yonder Acropolis is sacred and there is no lack of space
upon it, this inscription stands on the right hand of the great bronze statue of
Athena, the prize of valour in the war against the barbarians, set up by the
State with funds which the Hellenes had presented to her. In those days,
therefore, uprightness was so sacred, and such merit was attached to the
punishment of actions like these, that the sentences passed upon such crimes
were thought to deserve the same position as the prize-statue of the goddess.
And now, unless you, in your turn, set a check upon this excess of licence, the
result must be ridicule, impunity, and shame.[5] {273} You would do well, I
think, men of Athens, to imitate your forefathers, not in this or that point
alone, but continuously, and in all that they did. Now I am sure that you have
all heard the story of Callias,[n] the son of Hipponicus, to whose diplomacy was
due the Peace which is universally celebrated, and which provided that the king
should not come down by land within a day's ride of the sea, nor sail with a
ship of war between the Chelidonian islands and the Cyanean rocks. He was
thought to have taken bribes on his mission; and your forefathers almost put him
to death, and actually fined him, at the examination of his report, a sum of 50
talents. {274} True it is, that no more honourable peace can be mentioned than
this, of all which the city ever made before or afterwards. But it was not to
this that they looked. The nature of the Peace they attributed to their own
prowess and the glory of their city: but whether the transaction was
disinterested or corrupt, depended upon the character of the ambassador; and
they expected the character displayed by one who took part in public affairs to
be upright and incorruptible. {275} Your ancestors, then, regarded corruption as
so inimical, so unprofitable, to the state, that they would not admit it in
connexion with any single transaction or any single man; while you, men of
Athens, though you have seen that the Peace which has laid low the walls of your
own allies is building the houses of your ambassadors--that the Peace which has
robbed the city of her possessions has secured for them more than they had ever
before hoped for even in their dreams--you, I say, instead of putting them to
death of your own accord, need a prosecutor to assist you; and when all can see
their crimes in very deed, you are making their trial a trial of words.
{276} It is not, however, by the citation of ancient history, nor by these
examples alone, that one may stimulate you to vengeance: for even within the
lifetime of yourselves, who are here and still living, many have paid the
penalty. All the rest of these I will pass over; but I will mention one or two
of those who were punished with death, on returning from a mission whose results
have been far less disastrous to the city than those of the present Embassy.
(_To the clerk._) Take then this decree and read it.
[_The decree is read._]
{277} In this decree, men of Athens, you passed sentence of death upon those
ambassadors, one of whom was Epicrates,[n] a good man, as I am told by my
elders, and one who had in many ways been of service to his country--one of
those who brought the people back from the Peiraeus,[n] and who was generally an
upholder of the democracy. Yet none of these services helped him, and rightly.
For one who claims to manage affairs of such magnitude has not merely to be half
honest; he must not secure your confidence and then take advantage of it to
increase his power to do mischief; he must do absolutely no wrong against you of
his own will. {278} Now if there is one of the things for which those men were
sentenced to death, that these men have not done, you may put me to death
without delay. Observe what the charges were. 'Since they conducted their
mission,' says the decree,[n] 'contrary to the terms of the resolution'--that is
the first of the charges. And have not these men contravened the terms of the
resolution? Does not the decree speak of peace 'for the Athenians and the allies
of the Athenians?' and did they not exclude the Phocians from the treaty? Does
not the decree bid them administer the oath to the magistrates in the several
cities? and did they not administer it to men sent to them by Philip? Does not
the resolution forbid them 'to meet Philip anywhere alone?' and did they not
incessantly do business with him privately? {279} Again I read, 'And some of
them have been convicted of making a false report before the Council.' But these
men have been convicted of doing so before the People as well. And convicted by
whom? for this is the splendid thing.[n] Convicted by the actual facts; for all
that has happened, as you know, has been the exact reverse of what they
announced. 'And,' the decree goes on, 'of not sending true dispatches.' Nor did
these men. 'And of accusing our allies falsely and taking bribes.' Instead of
'accusing falsely', say, 'of having utterly ruined'--surely a far more heinous
thing than a false accusation. And as for the charge of taking bribes, if it had
been denied, it would still have required proof; but since they admitted it, a
summary procedure was surely the proper one. {280} What then will you do, men of
Athens? You are the offspring of that generation, and some of you are actually
survivors from it; and will you endure it, that Epicrates, the benefactor of the
people, one of the men from the Peiraeus, should have been exiled and
punished;[n] that Thrasybulus, again, the son of the great Thrasybulus, the
People's friend, who brought the people back from Phyle, should recently have
been fined ten talents; and that the descendant of Harmodius,[n] and of those
who achieved for you the greatest of blessings, and whom, for the benefits which
they conferred upon you, you have caused to share in the libations and the bowls
outpoured, in every temple where sacrifice is offered, singing of them and
honouring them as you honour heroes and gods--{281} that all these, I say,
should have undergone the penalty ordained by the laws, and that no feeling of
compassion or pity, nor the tears of their children who bore the names of our
benefactors, nor aught else, should have availed them anything: and yet, when
you have to do with the son of Atrometus the schoolmaster, and Glaucothea, who
used to hold those meetings of the initiated, a practice for which another
priestess[n] was put to death--when you have in your hands the son of such
parents, a man who never did a single service to his country--neither himself,
nor his father, nor any of his house--will you let him go? {282} Where is the
horse, the trireme, the military service, the chorus, the burden undertaken[n]
for the state, the war-contribution, the loyal action, the peril undergone, for
which in all their lifetime the city has had to thank him or his? Aye, and even
if all these stood to his credit, and those other qualifications, of uprightness
and integrity in his mission, were not also to be found in him, it would surely
have been right that he should perish. But when neither the one nor the other
are to be found, will you not avenge yourselves upon him? {283} Will you not
call to mind his own words, when he was prosecuting Timarchus--that there was no
help for a city which had no sinews to use against the criminal, nor for a
constitution in which compassion and solicitation were more powerful than the
laws--that it was your duty not to pity the aged mother of Timarchus, nor his
children, nor any one else, but to attend solely to one point, namely, that if
you abandoned the cause of the laws and the constitution, you would look in vain
for any to have pity on yourselves. {284} Is that unhappy man to have lost his
rights as a citizen, because he witnessed the guilt of Aeschines, and will you
then suffer Aeschines to escape unscathed? On what ground can you do so? for if
Aeschines demanded so heavy a penalty from those whose sins were against their
own persons, what must be the magnitude of the penalty which _you_ should
require--you, the sworn judges of the case--from those who have sinned so
greatly against their country's interests, and of whom Aeschines is convincingly
proved to be one? {285} 'But,' we are told, 'that was a trial which will raise
the moral standard of our young men.' Yes, and this trial will raise that of our
statesmen, upon whose character the supreme interests of the city are staked.
For your care ought to extend to them also. But you must realize that his real
motive for ruining Timarchus himself was not, Heaven knows, to be found in any
anxiety for the virtue of your sons. Indeed, men of Athens, they are virtuous
even now; for I trust that the city will never have fallen so low, as to need
Aphobetus and Aeschines to reform the morals of the young. {286} No! the reason
was that Timarchus had proposed in the Council, that if any one was convicted of
conveying arms or fittings for ships of war to Philip, the penalty should be
death. And here is a proof. How long had Timarchus been in the habit of
addressing you? For a long time. Now throughout all this time Aeschines was in
Athens, and never showed any vexation or indignation at the fact of such a man
addressing you, until he had been to Macedonia and made himself a hireling. (_To
the clerk._) Come, take the actual decree which Timarchus proposed, and read it.
[_The decree is read._]
{287} So the man who proposed on your behalf the resolution which forbade, on
pain of death, the supply of arms to Philip during the war, has been ruined and
treated with contumely; while Aeschines, who had surrendered the arms of your
very allies to Philip, was his accuser, and charged him--I call Heaven and Earth
to witness--with unnatural offences, although two of his own kinsmen stood by
his side, the very sight of whom would call forth a cry of protest from you--the
disgusting Nicias, who went to Egypt and hired himself to Chabrias, and the
accursed Cyrebion,[n] who joins in processions, as a reveller,[n] without a
mask. Nay, why mention these things? His own brother Aphobetus was there before
his eyes! In very truth all the words that were spoken on that day about
unnatural offences were water flowing up stream.[n]
{288} And now, to show you the dishonour into which the villainy and mendacity
of the defendant have brought our country, passing by all besides, I will
mention a fact known to you all. Formerly, men of Athens, all the other Hellenes
used to watch attentively, to see what had been resolved in your Assembly; but
now we are already going about and inquiring what others have decided--trying to
overhear what the Arcadians are doing, or the Amphictyons, or where Philip will
be next, and whether he is alive or dead. {289} We do this, do we not? But for
me the terrible question is not whether Philip is alive, but whether in this
city the habit of execrating and punishing criminals is dead. Philip has no
terrors for me, if your own spirit is sound; but the prospect that you may grant
security to those who wish to receive their wages from him--that they may be
supported by some of those whom you have trusted, and that those who have all
along denied that they were acting in Philip's interests may now mount the
platform in their defence--that is the prospect which terrifies me. {290} Tell
me, Eubulus, why it was, that at the recent trial of your cousin Hegesilaus,[n]
and of Thrasybulus, the uncle of Niceratus, when the primary question[n] was
before the jury, you would not even respond when they called upon you; and that
when you rose to speak on the assessment of the penalty,[n] you uttered not a
word in their defence, but only asked the jury to be indulgent to you? Do you
refuse to ascend the platform in defence of kinsmen and relations, {291} and
will you then do so in defence of Aeschines, who, when Aristophon was
prosecuting Philonicus, and in accusing him was denouncing your own acts, joined
with him in accusing you, and was found in the ranks of your enemies? You
frightened your countrymen here by saying that they must either march down to
the Peiraeus at once, and pay the war-tax, and convert the festival-fund into a
war-fund, or else pass the decree advocated by Aeschines and proposed by the
shameless Philocrates--{292} a decree, of which the result was that the Peace
became a disgraceful instead of a fair one, and that these men have ruined
everything by their crimes: and have you, after all this, become reconciled to
him? You uttered imprecations upon Philip, in the presence of the people, and
swore by the life of your children that you would be glad if perdition seized
him; and will you now come to the aid of Aeschines? How can perdition seize
Philip, when you are trying to save those who take bribes from him? {293} Why is
it that you prosecuted Moerocles for misappropriating 20 drachmae out of the
sums paid by each of the lessees of the mines, and indicted Ctesiphon for the
theft of sacred moneys, because he paid 7 minae into the bank three days too
late; and yet, when men have taken money and confess it, and are convicted, by
being caught in the very act, of having done so in order to bring about the ruin
of our allies, you do not prosecute them, but even command their acquittal?
{294} But the appalling character of these crimes and the great watchfulness and
caution that they call for, and the triviality of the offences for which you
prosecuted those other men, may further be seen in this way. Were there any men
in Elis who stole public funds? It is very likely indeed. Well, had any of them
anything to do with the overthrow of the democracy there? Not one of them.
Again, while Olynthus was standing, were there others of the same character
there? I am sure that there were. Was it then through them that Olynthus was
destroyed? No. Again, do you not suppose that in Megara there was someone who
was a thief and who embezzled public funds? There must have been. Well, has any
such person been shown to be responsible for the recent crisis there? {295} Not
one. But of what sort _are_ the men who commit crimes of such a character and
magnitude? They are those who count themselves worthy to be styled friends and
guest-friends of Philip, who would fain be generals, who claim[n] to be leaders,
who must needs be exalted above the people. Was not Perillus put on his trial
lately before the Three Hundred at Megara, because he went to Philip's court;
and did not Ptoeodorus, the first man in Megara in wealth, family, and
distinction, come forward and beg him off, and send him back again to Philip?
and was not the consequence that the one came back at the head of the
mercenaries, while the other was churning the butter[n] at home? {296} For there
is nothing, nothing, I say, in the world, which you must be so careful not to
do, as not to allow any one to become more powerful than the People. I would
have no man acquitted or doomed, to please any individual. Only let us be sure
that the man whose actions acquit or condemn him will receive from you the
verdict he deserves. {297} That is the true democratic principle. And further,
it is true that many men have come to possess great influence with you at
particular times--Callistratus, and again Aristophon, Diophantus, and others
before them. But where did each of these exercise his primacy? In the Assembly
of the People. But in the law-courts no man has ever, to this day, carried more
influence than the laws and the juror's oath. Do not then allow the defendant to
have such influence to-day. To prove to you that there is good reason for you
not to trust, but to beware of such influence, I will read you an oracle of the
gods, who always protect the city far better than do its foremost citizens. (_To
the clerk._) Read the oracles.
[_The oracles are read._]
{298} You hear, men of Athens, the warnings of the gods. If these responses were
given by them when you were at war, they mean that you must beware of your
generals, since in war it is the generals who are leaders; but if they were
uttered after you had made peace, they must refer to those who are at the head
of your government; for these are the leaders whom you obey, and it is by these
that you are in danger of being led astray. 'And hold the state together' [says
the oracle] 'until all are of one mind, and afford no joy to their foes.' {299}
Which event then, men of Athens, do you think would afford joy to Philip--the
acquittal of one who has brought about all this evil, or his punishment? His
acquittal, I am sure. But the oracle, you see, says that we should so act as not
to afford joy to our foes; and therefore, by the mouth of Zeus, of Dione,[n] and
of all the gods, is this exhortation given to us all, that with one mind we
chastise those who have done any service to our enemies. Without are those who
are plotting against us, within are their confederates. The part of the plotters
is to offer the bribe; that of their confederates is to receive it, and to save
from condemnation those who have received it.
{300} And further, it needs no more than human reason to arrive at the
conclusion that nothing can be more hateful and dangerous than to allow your
first citizen to be intimate with those whose objects are not those of the
People. Consider by what means Philip has become master of the entire situation,
and by what means he has accomplished the greatest of his successes. It has been
by purchasing the opportunities for action from those who offered them for sale
--by corrupting and exciting the aspirations of the leaders of their several
cities. {301} These have been the means. Now both of these methods it is in your
power, if you wish it, to render futile to-day, if you will refuse to listen to
prominent persons who speak in defence of such practices, and will thus prove
that they have no power over you--for now they assert that they have you under
their control--while at the same time you punish the man who has sold himself,
and let all the world see what you have done. {302} For you would have reason
enough, men of Athens, for being angry with any man who had acted so, and had
betrayed your allies and your friends and your opportunities (for with these are
bound up the whole prosperity or adversity of every people), but with no one
more than with Aeschines, or with greater justice. After taking up a position as
one of those who mistrusted Philip--after being the first and the only man to
perceive that Philip was the common enemy of all the Hellenes--he deserted, he
betrayed you; he suddenly became Philip's supporter. Surely he deserves to die
many times over! {303} Nay, he himself will not be able to deny that these
things are so. For who was it that brought Ischander forward before you
originally, stating that he had come from the friends of Athens in Arcadia? Who
was it that cried out that Philip was organizing Hellas and the Peloponnese
against you, while you were asleep? Who was it that delivered those long and
noble orations to the people, that read to you the decrees of Miltiades and
Themistocles, and the oath of the young soldiers[n] in the temple of Aglaurus?
{304} Was it not the defendant? Who was it that persuaded you to send embassies
almost as far as the Red Sea, on the ground that Philip was plotting against
Hellas, and that it was for you to foresee this and not to sacrifice the
interests of the Hellenes? Was it not Eubulus who proposed the decree, while the
ambassador to the Peloponnese was the defendant Aeschines? What expressions he
used in his address to the people, after he arrived there, is best known to
himself: but I know you all remember what he reported to you. {305} Many a time
in the course of his speech he called Philip 'barbarian' and 'devil'; and he
reported the delight of the Arcadians at the thought that Athens was now waking
up and attending to public affairs. One thing he told us, which caused him, he
said, more distress than anything else. As he was leaving, he met Atrestidas,
who was travelling home from Philip's court, and with him were walking some
thirty women and children. Wondering at this, he asked one of the travellers who
the man was, and what this crowd was along with him; {306} and on hearing that
it was Atrestidas, who was on his way home, and that these with him were
captives from Olynthus whom Philip had given him as a present, he was struck
with the atrocity of the thing and burst into tears, and lamented the unhappy
condition of Hellas, that she should allow such tragedies to pass unnoticed. At
the same time he counselled you to send representatives to Arcadia to denounce
Philip's agents, saying that his friends told him that if Athens took notice of
the matter and sent envoys, Philip's agents would be punished. {307} Such, men
of Athens, was the tenor of his speeches then; and very noble they were, and
worthy of this city. But when he had been to Macedonia, and had seen the enemy
of himself and of the Hellenes, were his speeches couched any more in the same
or a similar tone? Far from it! He told you that you must neither remember your
forefathers nor mention your trophies, nor go to the aid of any one. He was
amazed, he said, at those who urged you to confer with the rest of the Hellenes
in regard to the Peace with Philip, as though there was any need to convince
some one else about a matter which was purely your own affair. {308} And as for
Philip, 'Why, good gracious!' said he, 'Philip is the most thorough Hellene in
the world, a most able speaker, and most friendly towards Athens: only there are
certain persons in Athens so unreasonable and so churlish, that they are not
ashamed to slander him and call him "barbarian".' Now is it possible that the
man who had formerly spoken as Aeschines did, should now have dared to speak in
such a way, if he had not been corrupted? What? {309} Is there a man who after
conceiving such detestation for Atrestidas, owing to those children and women
from Olynthus, could have endured to act in conjunction with Philocrates, who
brought freeborn Olynthian women here to gratify his lust, and is so notorious
for his abominable living, that it is unnecessary for me now to use any
offensive or unpleasant expression about him; for if I say that Philocrates
brought women here, the rest will be understood by all of you and of the
bystanders, and you will, I am sure, pity the poor unhappy creatures--though
Aeschines felt no pity for them, and shed no tears for Hellas at the sight of
them, or at the thought of the outrages they were suffering among their own
allies at the hands of our ambassadors. {310} No! he will shed tears on his own
behalf--he whose proceedings as ambassador have had such results--and perhaps he
will bring forward his children, and mount them upon the platform. But,
gentlemen of the jury, when you see the children of Aeschines, remember that the
children of many of your allies and friends are now vagabonds, wandering in
beggary, owing to the cruel treatment they have suffered in consequence of his
conduct, and that these deserve your compassion far more than those whose father
is a criminal and a traitor. Remember that your own children have been robbed
even of their hopes by these men, who inserted among the terms of the Peace the
clause which extended it to posterity. And when you see the tears of Aeschines,
remember that you have now before you a man who urged you to send
representatives to Arcadia to denounce the agents of Philip. {311} Now to-day
you need send no embassy to the Peloponnese; you need take no long journey; you
need incur no travelling expenses. Each of you need only come as far as this
platform, to deposit the vote which piety and justice demand of him, on behalf
of your country; and to condemn the man who--I call Earth and Heaven to
witness!--after originally delivering the speeches which I described, speaking
of Marathon and of Salamis, and of your battles and your trophies, suddenly--so
soon as he had set foot in Macedonia--changed his tone completely, and told you
that you must not remember your forefathers, nor recount your trophies, nor go
to the aid of any one, nor take common counsel with the Hellenes--who all but
told you that you must pull down your walls. {312} Never throughout all time, up
to this day, have speeches more shameful than these been delivered before you.
What Hellene, what foreigner, is so dense, or so uninstructed, or so fierce in
his hatred of our city, that if one were to put to him this question, and say,
'Tell me now; of all Hellas, as it now is--all this inhabited country--is there
any part which would have been called by this name, or inhabited by the Hellenes
who now possess it, unless those who fought at Marathon and Salamis, our
forefathers, had displayed that high prowess on their behalf?' Why, I am certain
that not one would answer 'Yes': they would say that all these regions must have
been conquered by the barbarians. {313} If then no single man, not even one of
our enemies, would have deprived them of these their panegyrics and praises,
does Aeschines forbid you to remember them--you their descendants--in order that
he himself may receive money? In all other blessings, moreover, the dead have no
share; but the praises which follow their noble deeds are the peculiar
possession of those who have died thus; for then even envy opposes them no
longer. Of these praises Aeschines would deprive them; and justly, therefore,
would he now be deprived of his privileges as as a citizen, and justly, in the
name of your forefathers, would you exact from him this penalty. Such words you
used, nevertheless, in the wickedness of your heart, to despoil and traduce the
deeds of our forefathers, and by your word you ruined all our interests in very
deed. {314} And then, as the outcome of this, you are a landed gentleman, and
have become a personage of consequence! For this, too, you must notice. Before
he had wrought every kind of mischief against the city he acknowledged that he
had been a clerk; he was grateful to you for having elected him, and behaved
himself modestly. But since he has wrought countless evils, he has drawn up his
eyebrows, and if any one speaks of 'Aeschines the late clerk', he is his enemy
at once, and declares that he has been insulted: he walks through the market-
place with his cloak trailing down to his ankles, keeping step with
Pythocles,[n] and puffing out his cheeks--already one of Philip's friends and
guest-friends, if you please--one of those who would be rid of the democracy,
and who regard the established constitution as so much tempestuous madness--he
who was once the humble servant of the Round Chamber.
{315} I wish now to recapitulate to you summarily the ways in which Philip got
the better of you in policy, when he had taken these heaven-detested men to aid
him. It is well worth while to review and contemplate the course of his
deception as a whole. It began with his anxiety for peace; for his country was
being plundered, and his ports were closed, so that he could enjoy none of the
advantages which they afforded; and so he sent the messengers who uttered those
generous sentiments on his behalf--Neoptolemus, Aristodemus, and Ctesiphon.
{316} But so soon as we went to him as your ambassadors, he immediately hired
the defendant to second and co-operate with the abominable Philocrates, and so
get the better of those who wished to act uprightly; and he composed such a
letter to you as he thought would be most likely to help him to obtain peace.
{317} But even so, he had no better chance than before of effecting anything of
importance against you, unless he could destroy the Phocians. And this was no
easy matter. For he had now been reduced, as if by chance, to a position in
which he must either find it impossible to effect any of his designs, or else
must perforce lie and forswear himself, and make all men, whether Hellenes or
foreigners, witnesses of his own baseness. {318} For if, on the one hand, he
received the Phocians as allies, and administered the oath to them together with
yourselves, it at once became necessary for him to break his oaths to the
Thessalians and Thebans; for he had sworn to aid the latter in the reduction of
Boeotia, and the former in the recovery of their place in the Amphictyonic
Council; but if, on the other hand, he refused to receive them (as in fact he
did reject them), he thought that you would not let him cross the Pass, but
would rally to Thermopylae--and so you would have done, had you not been misled;
and if this happened, he calculated that he would be unable to march across.
{319} Nor had he to learn this from others; he had already the testimony of his
own experience. For on the occasion of his first defeat of the Phocians, when he
destroyed their mercenaries and their leader and general, Onomarchus, although
not a single human being, Hellene or foreigner, came to the aid of the Phocians,
except yourselves, so far was he from crossing the Pass and thereafter carrying
out any of his designs, that he could not even approach near it. {320} He
realized, I imagine, quite clearly, that at a time when the feelings of the
Thessalians were turning against him, and the Pheraeans (to take the first
instance) refused to accompany him--when the Thebans were being worsted and had
lost a battle, and a trophy had been erected to celebrate their defeat--it was
impossible for him to cross the Pass, if you rallied to its defence; and that if
he made the attempt he would regret it, unless some cunning could be called in
to aid him. How then, he asked, can I avoid open falsehood, and yet accomplish
all that I wish without appearing perjured? How can it be done? It can be done,
if I can get some of the Athenians to deceive the Athenians. In that case the
discredit no longer falls to my share. {321} And so Philip's own envoys first
informed you that Philip declined to receive the Phocians as allies; and then
these men took up the tale, and addressed you to the effect that it was
inconvenient to Philip to receive the Phocians as your allies openly, on account
of the Thebans and the Thessalians; but if he gets command of the situation,
they said, and is granted the Peace, he will do just what we should now request
him to promise to do. {322} So they obtained the Peace from you, by holding out
these seductive hopes, without including the Phocians. But they had still to
prevent the expedition to Thermopylae, for the purpose of which, despite the
Peace, your fifty ships were still lying ready at anchor, in order that, if
Philip marched, you might prevent him. {323} How then could it be done? what
cunning could be used in regard to this expedition in its turn? They must
deprive you of the necessary time, by bringing the crisis upon you suddenly, so
that, even if you wished to set out, you might be unable to do so. So this, it
appears, was what these men undertook to do; while for my part, as you have
often been told, I was unable to depart in advance of them, and was prevented
from sailing even when I had hired a boat for the purpose. {324} But it was
further necessary that the Phocians should come to believe in Philip and give
themselves up to him voluntarily, in order that there might be no delay in
carrying out the plan, and that no hostile decree whatever might issue from you.
'And therefore,' said he, 'the Athenian ambassadors shall announce that the
Phocians are to be preserved from destruction, so that even if any one persists
in distrusting me, he will believe them, and put himself in my hands. We will
summon the Athenians themselves, so that they may imagine that all that they
want is secured, and may pass no hostile decree: but the ambassadors shall make
such reports about us, and give such promises, as will prevent them from moving
under any circumstances.' {325} It was in this way, and by such trickery as
this, that all was ruined, through the action of these doomed wretches. For
immediately afterwards, as you know, instead of seeing Thespiae and Plataeae
repeopled, you heard that Orchomenus and Coroneia had been enslaved; instead of
Thebes being humbled and stripped of her insolence and pride, the walls of your
own allies were being razed, and it was the Thebans who were razing them--the
Thebans who, according to Aeschines' story, were as good as broken up into
villages. {326} Instead of Euboea being handed over to you in exchange for
Amphipolis, Philip is making new bases of operations against you in Euboea
itself, and is plotting incessantly against Geraestus and Megara. Instead of the
restoration of Oropus to you, we are making an expedition under arms to defend
Drymus and the country about Panactum[n]--a step which we never took so long as
the Phocians remained unharmed. {327} Instead of the restoration of the
ancestral worship in the temple, and the exaction of the debt due to the god,
the true Amphictyons are fugitives, who have been banished and their land laid
desolate; and Macedonians, foreigners, men who never were Amphictyons in the
past, are now forcing their way to recognition; while any one who mentions the
sacred treasures is thrown from the rocks, and our city has been deprived of her
right to precedence in consulting the oracle. {328} Indeed, the story of all
that has happened to the city sounds like a riddle. Philip has spoken no
falsehood, and has accomplished all that he wished: you hoped for the fulfilment
of your fondest prayers, and have seen the very opposite come to pass; you
suppose yourselves to be at peace, and have suffered more terribly than if you
had been at war; while these men have received money for all this, and up to
this very day have not paid the penalty. {329} For that the situation has been
made what it is solely by bribery, and that these men have received their price
for it all, has, I feel sure, long been plain to you in many ways; and I am
afraid that, quite against my will, I may long have been wearying you by
attempting to prove with elaborate exactness what you already know for
yourselves. {330} Yet this one point I ask you still to listen to. Is there,
gentlemen of the jury, one of the ambassadors whom Philip sent, whose statue in
bronze you would erect in the market-place? Nay, one to whom you would give
maintenance in the Town Hall, or any other of those complimentary grants with
which you honour your benefactors? I think not. And why? For you are of no
ungrateful or unfair or mean disposition. You would reply, that it is because
all that they did was done in the interest of Philip, and nothing in your own;
and the reply would be true and just. {331} Do you imagine then that, when such
are your sentiments, Philip's are not also such? Do you imagine that he gives
all these magnificent presents because your ambassadors conducted their mission
honourably and uprightly with a view to _your_ interest? Impossible. Think of
Hegesippus, and the manner in which he and the ambassadors who accompanied him
were received by Philip. To go no further, he banished Xenocleides, the well-
known poet, by public proclamation, because he received the ambassadors, his own
fellow citizens. For so it is that he behaves to men who honestly say what they
think on your behalf: while to those who have sold themselves he behaves as he
has to these men. Do we then need witnesses? do we need stronger proofs than
these to establish my conclusions? Will any one be able to steal these
conclusions from your minds?
{332} Now I was told a most extraordinary thing just now by some one who
accosted me in front of the Court, namely, that the defendant is prepared to
accuse Chares, and that by such methods and such arguments as that, he hopes to
deceive you. I will not lay undue stress on the fact that Chares,[n] subjected
to every form of trial, was found to have acted on your behalf, so far as was in
his power, with faithfulness and loyalty, while his frequent shortcomings were
due to those who, for money, were cruelly injuring your cause. But I will go
much further. Let it be granted that all that the defendant will say of Chares
is true. {333} Even so it is utterly absurd that Aeschines should accuse him.
For I do not lay the blame on Aeschines for anything that was done in the course
of the war--it is the generals who have to account for all such proceedings--nor
do I hold him responsible for the city's having made peace. So far I acquit him
of everything. What then do I allege, and at what point does my accusation
begin? I accuse him of having supported Philocrates, at the time when the city
was making peace, instead of supporting those who proposed what was for your
real good. I accuse him of taking bribes, and subsequently, on the Second
Embassy, of wasting time, and of not carrying out any of your instructions. I
accuse him of cheating the city, and ruining everything, by the suggestion of
hopes that Philip would do all that we desired; and then I accuse him of
speaking afterwards in defence of one of whom[n] all warned him to beware, on
account of the great crimes of which he had been guilty. {334} These are my
charges, and these are what you must bear in mind. For a Peace that was honest
and fair, and men that had sold nothing and had told no falsehoods afterwards, I
would even have commended, and would have bidden you crown them. But the
injuries which some general may have done you have nothing to do with the
present examination. Where is the general who has caused the loss of Halus? or
of the Phocians? or of Doriscus? or of Cersobleptes? or of the Sacred Mountain?
or of Thermopylae? Who has secured Philip a road to Attica that leads entirely
through the country of allies and friends? who has given Coroneia and Orchomenus
and Euboea to others? who has all but given Megara to the enemy, only recently?
who has made the Thebans powerful? {335} Not one of all these heavy losses was
the work of the generals; nor does Philip hold any of these places because you
were persuaded to concede it to him by the treaty of peace. The losses are due
to these men and to their corruption. If then he evades these points, and tries
to mislead you by speaking of every other possible subject, this is how you must
receive his attempt. 'We are not sitting in judgement upon any general,' you
must say, 'nor are you on your trial for the things of which you speak. Do not
tell us whether some one else may not also be responsible for the ruin of the
Phocians: prove to us that no responsibility attaches to yourself. Why do you
tell us _now_ of the alleged iniquities of Demosthenes, instead of accusing him
when his report was under examination? For such an omission alone you deserve to
perish. {336} Do not speak of the beauty of peace, nor of its advantages. No one
holds you responsible for the city's having made peace. But show that it was not
a shameful and discreditable peace; that we have not since been deceived in many
ways; that all was not lost. It is for all these things that the responsibility
has been proved to be yours. And why, even to this hour, do you praise the man
who has done us all this evil?' If you keep a watch upon him thus, he will have
nothing to say; and then he will lift up his voice here, in spite of all his
vocal exercises, to no purpose.
{337} And yet perhaps it is necessary for me to speak about his voice also. For
of this too, I am told, he is extremely proud, and expects to carry you away by
his declamation. But seeing that you used to drive him away and hiss him out of
the theatre and almost stone him, when he was performing the tragic story of
Thyestes or of the Trojan War, so that at last he gave up his third-rate
playing, you would be acting in the most extraordinary way if, now that he has
wrought countless ills, not on the stage, but in the most important affairs in
the public life of the state, you listened to him for his fine voice. {338} By
no means must you do this, or give way to any foolish sentiment. Rather reflect,
that if you were testing the qualifications of a herald, you would then indeed
look for a fine voice; but when you are testing those of an ambassador, or a man
who claims the administration of any public business, you must look for an
upright man--a man who bears himself proudly indeed, as your representative, but
seeks no more than equality with yourselves--as I myself refused to pay respect
to Philip, but did pay respect to the captives, whom I saved, and never for a
moment drew back; whereas Aeschines rolled at Philip's feet, and chanted his
paeans, while he looks down upon you. {339} And further, whenever you notice
that cleverness or a good voice or any other natural advantage has been given to
an honest and public-spirited man, you ought all to congratulate him and help
him to cultivate his gift; for the gift is an advantage in which you all share,
as well as he. But when the gift is found in a corrupt and villainous man, who
can never resist the chance of gain, then you should exclude him from your
presence, and give a harsh and hostile reception to his words: for villainy,
which wins from you the reputation of ability, is the enemy of the State. {340}
You see what great troubles have fallen upon the city, through those qualities
which have brought renown to Aeschines. But whereas all other faculties are more
or less independent, the gift of eloquence, when it meets with hostility from
you who listen, is a broken thing. Listen, then, to the defendant as you would
listen to a corrupt villain, who will not speak a single word of truth.
{341} Observe also that the conviction of the defendant is in every way
expedient, not only on all other grounds, but even when you consider our
relations with Philip himself. For if ever Philip finds himself compelled to
give the city any of her rights, he will change his methods. As it is, he has
chosen to deceive the people as a whole, and to show his favours to a few
persons; whereas, if he learns that these men have perished, he will prefer for
the future to act in the interest of yourselves collectively, in whose hands all
power rests. {342} If, however, he intends to persist in his present domineering
and outrageous insolence, you will, by getting rid of these men, have rid the
city of those who would do anything in the world for him. For when they have
acted as they have done, with the expectation of having to pay the penalty in
their minds, what do you think they will do, if you relax your severity towards
them? Where is the Euthycrates,[n] or the Lasthenes, or the traitor of any
description, whom they will not outdo? {343} And who among all the rest will not
be a worse citizen, when he sees that, for those who have sold themselves, the
friendship of Philip serves, in consequence, for revenue, for reputation, and
for capital; while to those who have conducted themselves uprightly, and have
spent their own money as well, the consequences are trouble, hatred, and ill
will from a certain party. Let it not be so. It is not for your good--whether
you regard your reputation or your duty towards Heaven or your safety or any
other object, that you should acquit the defendant; but rather that you should
avenge yourselves upon him, and make him an example in the eyes of all your
fellow citizens and of the whole Hellenic world.
FOOTNOTES
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[1] This body was composed of life-members, the archons passing into it annually
at the conclusion of their term of office. A certain religious solemnity
attached to it, and it was generally respected as a public-spirited and high-
minded body.
[2] [Greek: p_os: ti;].
[3] Hesiod, _Works and Days_, 761.
[4] Euripides, _Phoenix_ fragment.
[5] [Greek: adeia, aischuv_e.].
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LIST OF SPEECHES TRANSLATED
Traditional Order In this Edition
ORATION
Volume II: (Listed Below)
VIII. ON THE CHERSONESE
ii. 3
IX. PHILIPPIC III
ii. 26
XIV. ON THE NAVAL BOARDS
i. 31
XV. FOR THE FREEDOM OF THE RHODIANS i. 56
XVI. FOR THE MEGALOPOLITANS
i. 45
XVIII. ON THE CROWN
ii. 47
XIX. ON THE
EMBASSY
i. 144
ON THE CHERSONESE (OR. VIII)
(Back To Top)
[_Introduction_. Late in the year 343 (some time after the acquittal of
Aeschines) Philip invaded Epirus, made Alexander, brother of his wife
Olympias, king of the Molossi instead of Arybbas, and so secured, his own
influence in that region. Arybbas was honourably received at Athens.
Philip next threatened Ambracia and Leucas, which were colonies of
Corinth, and promised to restore Naupactus, which was in the hands of the
Achaeans, to the Aetolians. But Athens sent Demosthenes, Hegesippus,
Polyeuctus and others to rouse the Corinthians to resistance, and also
dispatched a force of citizens to Acarnania to help in the defence against
Philip. Philip thereupon returned, captured Echinus and Nicaea on the
Malian Gulf, and established a tetrarch in each division of Thessaly (343
B.C., or early in 342). In 342 Philistides was established, by Philip's
influence, as tyrant at Oreus in Euboea (as Cleitarchus had been at
Eretria in the preceding year), and the democratic leader Euphraeus
committed suicide in prison.[1] The town of Chalcis, however, under
Callias and Taurosthenes, remained friendly to Athens, and made a treaty
of alliance with her.
About the same time a controversy, begun in the previous year, in regard
to Halonnesus, was renewed. This island had belonged to Athens, but had
been occupied by pirates. At some time not recorded (but probably since
the Peace of 346) Philip had expelled the pirates and taken possession of
the island. He now sent a letter, offering to give Halonnesus to Athens,
but not to _give it back_ (since this would concede their right to it); or
else to submit the dispute to arbitration. He also offered to discuss a
treaty for the settlement of private disputes between Athenians and
Macedonians, and to concert measures with Athens for clearing the Aegean
of pirates. He was willing to extend the advantages of the Peace to other
Greek States, but not to agree that he and Athens should respectively
possess 'what was their own', instead of 'what they held'; though he was
ready to submit to arbitration in regard to Cardia and other disputed
places. He again denied having made the promises attributed to him, and
asked for the punishment of those who slandered him. Hegesippus replied in
an extant speech ('On Halonnesus'), while Demosthenes insisted that no
impartial arbitrator could possibly be found. Philip's terms in regard to
Halonnesus were refused, but the Athenian claim to the island was not
withdrawn.
Philip spent the greater part of 342 and 341 in Thrace, mainly in the
valley of the Hebrus, where he endured very great hardships through the
winter, and founded colonies of Macedonian soldiers, the chief of these
being Philippopolis and Cabyle. He also entered into relations with the
Getae, beyond the Haemus, and garrisoned Apollonia on the Euxine. These
operations were all preparatory to his projected attack upon Byzantium.
(Byzantium and Athens were at this time on unfriendly terms, owing to the
part taken by the latter in the Social War.)
But the immediate subject of the present Speech was the state of affairs
in the Chersonese in 342. The Chersonese (with the exception of Cardia)
had been secured for Athens in 357, but had been threatened by Philip in
352,[2] when he made alliance with Cardia, and forced the neighbouring
Thracian Prince Cersobleptes to submit. Soon after the Peace of
Philocrates, Athens sent settlers to the Chersonese under Diopeithes.
Cardia alone refused to receive them, and Diopeithes, with a mercenary
force, prepared to compel the Cardians to admit them; while Philip sent
troops to hold the town, and complained to Athens in threatening terms of
the actions of Diopeithes, and more particularly of an inroad which
Diopeithes had made upon Philip's territory in Thrace. Diopeithes had been
ill-supported with money and men by Athens, and had had recourse to
piratical actions, in order to obtain supplies, thus arousing some
indignation at Athens; but the prospect of the heavy expenditure which
would be necessary, if an expedition were sent to his aid, was also
unattractive. Demosthenes, however, proposed that Diopeithes should be
vigorously supported, on the ground that Philip was really at war with
Athens, and that this was not the time to interfere with the general who
alone was pushing the Athenian cause. The speech was delivered early in
the spring of 341. It is a masterpiece of oratory, at once statesmanlike
and impassioned, and shows a complete command of every variety of tone.
The latter part of it contains a strong denunciation of the Macedonian
party in Athens, a defence of the orator's own career, and an urgent
demand for the punishment of disloyalty. At the same time Demosthenes does
not embody the policy which he advises in any formal motion. For this we
have to wait for the Third Philippic.]
{1} It was the duty, men of Athens, of every speaker not to allow either
malice or favour to influence any speech which he might make, but simply
to declare the policy which he considered to be the best, particularly
when your deliberations were concerned with public affairs of great
importance. But since there are some who are led on to address you, partly
out of contentiousness, partly from causes which I need not discuss, it is
for you, men of Athens--you, the People--to dismiss all other
considerations, and both in the votes that you give and in the measures
that you take to attend solely to what you believe to be for the good of
the city. {2} Now our present anxiety arises out of affairs in the
Chersonese, and the campaign, now in its eleventh month, which Philip is
conducting in Thrace. But most of the speeches which we have heard have
been about the acts and intentions of Diopeithes. For my part, I conceive
that all charges made against any one who is amenable to the laws and can
be punished by you when you will are matters which you are free to
investigate, either immediately or after an interval, as you think fit;
and there is no occasion for me or any one else to use strong language
about them. {3} But all those advantages which an actual enemy of the
city, with a large force in the Hellespont, is trying to snatch from you,
and which, if we once fall behind-hand, we shall no longer be able to
recover--these, surely, are matters upon which our interest demands that
our plans be formed and our preparations made with the utmost dispatch;
and that no clamour, no accusations about other matters, be allowed to
drive us from this point.
{4} Often as I am surprised at the assertions which are habitually made in
your presence, nothing, men of Athens, has surprised me more than the
remark which I heard only lately in the Council--that one who advises you
ought, forsooth, to advise you plainly either to go to war or to keep the
peace. {5} Very good.[3] If Philip is remaining inactive, if he is keeping
nothing that is ours, in violation of the Peace, if he is not organizing
all mankind against us, there is nothing more to be said--we have simply
to observe the Peace; and I see that, for your part, you are quite ready
to do so. But what if the oath that we swore, and the terms upon which we
made the Peace, stand inscribed for our eyes to see? {6} What if it is
proved that from the outset, before Diopeithes sailed from Athens with the
settlers who are now accused of having brought about the war, Philip
wrongfully seized many of our possessions--and here, unrepealed, are your
resolutions charging him with this--and that all along he has been
uninterruptedly seizing the possessions of the other Hellenic and foreign
peoples, and uniting their resources against us? What is _then_ the
meaning of the statement that we ought either to go to war or to keep the
Peace? {7} For we have no choice in the matter: nothing remains open to us
but the most righteous and most necessary of all acts--the act that they
deliberately refuse to consider--I mean the act of retaliation against the
aggressor: unless indeed, they intend to argue that, so long as Philip
keeps away from Attica and the Peiraeus, he does the city no wrong and is
not committing acts of war. {8} But if _this_ is their criterion of right
and wrong, if _this_ is their definition of peace, then, although what
they say is iniquitous, intolerable, and inconsistent with your security,
as all must see, at the same time these very statements are actually
contradictory of the charges which they are making against Diopeithes. {9}
Why, I beg to ask,[n] are we to give Philip full leave to act in whatever
way he chooses, so long as he does not touch Attica, when Diopeithes is
not to be allowed even to assist the Thracians, without being accused of
initiating war? But even if this inconsistency is brought home to them,
still, we are told, the conduct of the mercenaries in ravaging the
Hellespontine country is outrageous, and Diopeithes has no right to drive
the vessels to shore,[n] and ought to be stopped. {10} I grant it: let it
be done: I have nothing to say against it. Yet nevertheless, if their
advice is genuinely based on considerations of right, and right alone, I
consider that they are bound to prove that, as surely as they are seeking
to break up the force on which _Athens_ at present relies, by slandering
its commander to you when he tries to provide funds to support it, so
surely _Philip's_ force will be disbanded if you accept their advice. If
they fail to prove this, you must consider that they are simply setting
the city once more upon the same course which has already resulted in the
utter ruin of her fortunes. {11} For surely you know that nothing in the
world has contributed so much to Philip's successes, as his being always
first on the scene of action. With a standing force always about him, and
knowing beforehand what he intends to do, he suddenly falls upon
whomsoever he pleases: while we wait until we learn that something is
happening, and only then, in a turmoil, make our preparations. {12} It
follows, of course, that every position which he has attacked, he holds in
undisturbed possession; while we are all behindhand; all our expenditure
proves to have been so much useless waste; we have displayed our hostility
and our desire to check him; but we are too late for action, and so we add
disgrace to failure.
{13} You must therefore not fail to recognize, men of Athens, that now, as
before, all else that you hear consists of mere words and pretexts; and
that the real aim of all that is being done is to secure that you may
remain at home, that Athens may have no force outside the city, and that
thus Philip may give effect to all his desires without let or hindrance.
Consider, in the first place, what is actually occurring at the present
moment. {14} He is at present passing the time[n] in Thrace, with a great
army under him; and, as we are told by those who are on the spot,[n] he is
sending for a large addition to it from Macedonia and Thessaly. Now if he
waits for the Etesian winds,[n] and then goes to Byzantium and besieges
it, tell me first whether you think that the Byzantines will persist in
their present infatuation,[n] and will not call upon you and entreat you
to go to their aid? {15} I do not think so. Why, I believe that they would
open their gates to men whom they distrust even more than they distrust
you (if such exist), rather than surrender the city to Philip--supposing,
that is, that he does not capture them first. And then, if we are unable
to set sail from Athens, and if there are no forces there on the spot to
help them, nothing can prevent their destruction. {16} 'Of course,' you
say, 'for the men are possessed, and their infatuation passes all bounds.'
Very true; and yet they must be preserved; for the interests of Athens
require it. And besides, we cannot by any means be certain that he will
not invade the Chersonese. Indeed, if we are to judge by the letter which
he has sent to you, he there says that he _will_ punish the settlers[n] in
the Chersonese. {17} If then the army that is now formed there is in
existence, it will be able to help the Chersonese, and to injure some part
of Philip's country. But when once it is dissolved, what shall we do if he
marches against the Chersonese? 'We shall of course put Diopeithes on his
trial.' And how will that improve our position? 'Well, we should go to the
rescue from Athens ourselves.' What if the winds make it impossible? {18}
'But, of course, he will not really get there.' And who can guarantee
that? Do you realize, men of Athens, or take into account, what the coming
season of the year is, the season against which some think you ought to
evacuate the Hellespont and hand it over to Philip? What if, when he
leaves Thrace, he does not go near the Chersonese or Byzantium at all--for
this, too, is a possibility which you must consider--but comes to
Chalcis[n] or Megara, just as he lately came to Oreus? Is it better to
resist him here, and to allow the war to come into Attica, or to provide
something to keep him busy there? The latter course is surely the better.
{19} Realizing these things, therefore, as you all must, and taking due
account of them, you must not, Heaven knows, look askance at the force
which Diopeithes is trying to provide for Athens, or attempt to disband
it. You must yourselves prepare another force to support it: you must help
him freely with money, and give him in all other respects your loyal
co-operation. {20} If Philip were asked to say whether he would wish these
soldiers who are now with Diopeithes--describe them as you will, for I in
no way dispute your description--to be prosperous and in high favour with
the Athenians, and to be augmented in numbers by the co-operation of the
city; or whether he would rather see them broken up and destroyed in
consequence of calumnious charges against them; he would prefer, I
imagine, the latter alternative. Can it then be, that there are men among
us here who are trying to bring about the very thing that Philip would
pray Heaven for? And if so, do you need to seek any further for the cause
of the total ruin of the city's fortunes?
{21} I wish, therefore, to examine without reserve the present crisis of
our affairs, to inquire what we ourselves are now doing, and how we are
dealing with it. We do not wish to contribute funds, nor to serve with the
forces in person; we cannot keep our hands from the public revenues;[n] we
do not give the contributions of the allies[n] to Diopeithes, nor do we
approve of such supplies as he raises for himself; {22} but we look
malignantly at him, we ask whence he gets them, what he intends to do, and
every possible question of that kind: and yet we are still not willing to
confine ourselves to our own affairs, in consequence of the attitude which
we have adopted; we still praise with our lips those who uphold the
dignity of the city, though in our acts we are fighting on the side of
their opponents. {23} Now whenever any one rises to speak, you always put
to him the question 'What are we to do?' I wish to put to _you_ the
question, 'What are we to _say_?' For if you will neither contribute, nor
serve in person, nor leave the public funds alone, nor grant him the
contributions, nor let him get what he can for himself, nor yet confine
yourselves to your own affairs, I do not know what I can say. For when you
give such licence to those who desire to make charges and accusations,
that you listen to them even when they denounce him by anticipation for
his alleged intentions--well, what _can_ one say?
{24} The possible effect of this is a matter which some of you require to
understand, and I will speak without reserve; for indeed I could not speak
otherwise. All the commanders who have ever yet sailed from Athens--if I
am wrong, I consent to any penalty that you please[n]--take money from the
Chians, from the Erythraeans,[n] from any people from whom they can
severally get it--I mean, any of the Asiatic settlers who are now in
question. {25} Those who have one or two ships take less, those who have a
larger force take more. And those who give to them do not give either
little or much for nothing; they are not so insane: in fact, with these
sums they buy immunity from injury for the merchants who sail from their
ports, freedom from piracy, the convoying of their vessels, and so on.
They call the gifts 'benevolences',[n] and that is the name given to the
sums thus obtained. {26} And in the present case, when Diopeithes is there
with his army, it is obvious that all these peoples will give him money.
From what other source do you imagine that a general can maintain his
troops, when he has received nothing from you, and has no resources from
which he can pay his men? Will money drop from the sky? Of course not. He
subsists upon what he can collect or beg or borrow. {27} The real effect,
therefore, of the accusations made against him here, is simply to warn
every one that they should refuse to give him anything, since he is to pay
the penalty for his very intentions, not to speak of any action that he
may have taken or any success that he may have achieved. That is the only
meaning of the cry that 'he is preparing a blockade', or 'he is
surrendering[n] the Hellenes'. Do any of his critics care about the
Hellenes who live in Asia? {28} Were it so, they would be more thoughtful
for the rest of mankind than for their own country. And the proposal to
send another general to the Hellespont amounts to no more than this. For
if Diopeithes is acting outrageously and is driving the vessels to shore,
then, gentlemen, one little wax-tablet[n] is enough to put an end to it
all: and what the laws command is that for these offences we should
impeach the wrong-doers--not that we should keep a watch upon our own
forces at such expense and with so many ships.[n] {29} Such insanity
really passes all bounds. No! Against the enemy whom we cannot arrest and
render amenable to the laws, it is both right and necessary to maintain a
force, to send war-ships, and to contribute war-funds: but against one of
ourselves, a decree, an impeachment, a dispatch-boat[n] will answer our
purpose. These are the means which sensible men would use: the policy of
the other side is the policy of men whose spitefulness[n] is ruining your
fortunes. {30} And that there should be some such men, bad though it is,
is not the worst. No! for you who sit there are already in such a frame of
mind, that if any one comes forward and says that Diopeithes is the cause
of all the mischief, or Chares,[n] or Aristophon,[n] or any Athenian
citizen that he happens to name, you at once agree, and clamorously
declare that he is right; {31} but if any one comes forward and tells you
the truth, and says, 'Men of Athens, this is nonsense. It is Philip that
is the cause of all this mischief and trouble; for if he were quiet, the
city would have nothing to disturb her,' you cannot, indeed, deny the
truth of his words, but you seem, I think, to be annoyed, as though you
were losing something.[n] {32} And the cause of these things is this--and
I beseech you, in Heaven's name, to let me speak unreservedly, when I am
speaking for your true good--that some of your politicians have contrived
that you should be terrifying and severe in your assemblies, but easy-
going and contemptible in your preparations for war. And accordingly, if
any one names as the culprit some one whom you know you can arrest in your
own midst, you agree and you wish to act; but if one is named whom you
must first master by force of arms, if you are to punish him at all, you
are at a loss, I fancy, what to do, and you are vexed when this is brought
home to you. {33} For your politicians, men of Athens, should have treated
you in exactly the opposite way to this; they should train you to be kind
and sympathetic in your assemblies; for there it is with the members of
your own body and your own allies that your case is argued: but your
terrors and your severity should be displayed in your preparations for
war, where the struggle is with your enemies and your rivals. {34} As it
is, by their popular speeches, and by courting your favour to excess, they
have brought you into such a condition that, while in your assemblies you
give yourselves airs and enjoy their flattery, listening to nothing but
what is meant to please you, in the world of facts and events you are in
the last extremity of peril. Imagine, in God's name, what would happen, if
the Hellenes were to call you to account for the opportunities which, in
your indolence, you have now let pass, and were to put to you the
question, {35} 'Is it true, men of Athens, that you send envoys to us on
every possible occasion, to tell us of Philip's designs against ourselves
and all the Hellenes, and of the duty of keeping guard against the man,
and to warn us in every way?' We should have to confess that it was true.
We do act thus. 'Then,' they would proceed, 'is it true, you most
contemptible of all men, that though the man has been away for ten months,
{36} and has been cut off from every possibility of returning home, by
illness and by winter and by wars, you have neither liberated Euboea nor
recovered any of your own possessions? Is it true that you have remained
at home, unoccupied and healthy--if such a word can be used of men who
behave thus--and have seen him set up two tyrants in Euboea, one to serve
as a fortress directly menacing Attica, the other to watch Sciathus; {37}
and that you have not even rid yourselves of these dangers--granted that
you did not want to do anything more--but have let them be? Obviously you
have retired in his favour, and have made it evident that if he dies ten
times over, you will not make any move the more. Why trouble us then with
your embassies and your accusations?' If they speak thus to us, what will
be our answer? What shall we say, Athenians? I do not see what we can say.
{38} Now there are some who imagine that they confute a speaker, as soon
as they have asked him the question, 'What then are we to do?' I will
first give them this answer--the most just and true of all--'Do not do
what you are doing now.' {39} But at the same time I will give them a
minute and detailed reply; and then let them show that their willingness
to act upon it is not less than their eagerness to interrogate. First, men
of Athens, you must thoroughly make up your minds to the fact that Philip
is at war with Athens, and has broken the Peace--you must cease to lay the
blame at one another's doors--and that he is evilly-disposed and hostile
to the whole city, down to the very ground on which it is built; {40} nay,
I will go further--hostile to every single man in the city, even to those
who are most sure that they are winning his favour. (If you think
otherwise, consider the case of Euthycrates[n] and Lasthenes of Olynthus,
who fancied that they were on the most friendly terms with him, but, after
they had betrayed their city, suffered the most utter ruin of all.) But
his hostilities and intrigues are aimed at nothing so much as at our
constitution, whose overthrow is the very first object in the world to
him. {41} And in a sense it is natural that he should aim at this. For he
knows very well that even if he becomes master of all the rest of the
world, he can retain nothing securely, so long as you are a democracy; and
that if he chances to stumble anywhere, as may often happen to a man, all
the elements which are now forced into union with him will come and take
refuge with you. {42} For though you are not yourselves naturally adapted
for aggrandizement or the usurpation of empire, you have the art of
preventing any other from seizing power and of taking it from him when he
has it; and in every respect you are ready to give trouble to those who
are ambitious of dominion, and to lead all men forth into liberty. And so
he would not have Freedom, from her home in Athens, watching for every
opportunity he may offer--far from it--and there is nothing unsound or
careless in his reasoning. {43} The first essential point, therefore, is
this--that you conceive him to be the irreconcilable foe of your
constitution and of democracy: for unless you are inwardly convinced of
this, you will not be willing to take an active interest in the situation.
Secondly, you must realize clearly that all the plans which he is now so
busily contriving are in the nature of preparations against this country;
and wherever any one resists him, he there resists him on our behalf. {44}
For surely no one is so simple as to imagine that when Philip is covetous
of the wretched hamlets[n] of Thrace--one can give no other name to
Drongilum, Cabyle, Masteira, and the places which he is now seizing--and
when to get these places he is enduring heavy labours, hard winters, and
the extremity of danger;--{45} no one can imagine, I say, that the
harbours and the dockyards, and the ships of the Athenians, the produce of
your silver-mines, and your huge revenue, have no attraction for him, or
that he will leave you in possession of these, while he winters in the
very pit of destruction[n] for the sake of the millet and the spelt in the
silos[n] of Thrace. No, indeed! It is to get these into his power that he
pursues both his operations in Thrace and all his other designs. {46} What
then, as sensible men, must you do? Knowing and realizing your position,
as you do, you must lay aside this excessive, this irremediable[n]
indolence: you must contribute funds, and require them from your allies;
you must so provide and act, that this force which is now assembled may be
held together; in order that, as Philip has the force in readiness that is
to injure and enslave all the Hellenes, you may have in readiness that
which shall preserve and succour them. {47} You cannot effect by isolated
expeditions any of the things which must be effected. You must organize a
force, and provide maintenance for it, and paymasters, and a staff of
servants; and when you have taken such steps as will ensure the strictest
possible watch being kept over the funds, you must hold these officials
accountable for the money, and the general for the actual operations. If
you act thus, and honestly make up your minds to take this course, you
will either compel Philip to observe a righteous peace and remain in his
own land--and no greater blessing could you obtain than that--or you will
fight him on equal terms.
{48} It may be thought that this policy demands heavy expenditure, and
great exertions and trouble. That is true indeed; but let the objector
take into account what the consequences to the city must be, if he is
unwilling to assent to this policy, and he will find that the ready
performance of duty brings its reward. {49} If indeed some god is offering
us his guarantee--for no human guarantee would be sufficient in so great a
matter--that if you remain at peace and let everything slide, Philip will
not in the end come and attack yourselves; then, although, before God and
every Heavenly Power, it would be unworthy of you and of the position that
the city holds, and of the deeds of our forefathers, to abandon all the
rest of the Hellenes to slavery for the sake of our own ease--although,
for my part, I would rather have died than have suggested such a thing--
yet, if another proposes it and convinces you, let it be so: do not defend
yourselves: let everything go. {50} But if no one entertains such a
belief, if we all know that the very opposite is true, and that the wider
the mastery we allow him to gain, the more difficult and powerful a foe we
shall have to deal with, what further subterfuge is open to us? Why do we
delay? {51} When shall we ever be willing, men of Athens, to do our duty?
'When we are compelled,' you say. But the hour of compulsion, as the word
is applied to free men, is not only here already, but has long passed; and
we must surely pray that the compulsion which is put upon slaves may not
come upon us. And what is the difference? It is this--that for a free man
the greatest compelling force is his shame at the course which events are
taking--I do not know what greater we can imagine; but the slave is
compelled by blows and bodily tortures, which I pray may never fall to our
lot; it is not fit to speak of them.
{52} I would gladly tell you the whole story, and show how certain persons
are working for your ruin by their policy. I pass over, however, every
point but this. Whenever any question of our relations with Philip arises,
at once some one stands up and talks of the blessings of peace, of the
difficulty of maintaining a large force, and of designs on the part of
certain persons to plunder our funds; with other tales of the same kind,
which enable them to delay your action, and give Philip time to do what he
wishes unopposed. {53} What is the result? For you the result is your
leisure, and a respite from immediate action--advantages which I fear you
will some day feel to have cost you dear; and for them it is the favour
they win, and the wages for these services. But I am sure that there is no
need to persuade you to keep the Peace--you sit here fully persuaded. It
is the man who is committing acts of war that we need to persuade; for if
he is persuaded, you are ready enough. {54} Nor is it the expenditure
which is to ensure our preservation that ought to distress us, but the
fate which is in prospect for us, if we are not willing to take this
action: while the threatened 'plunder of our funds' is to be prevented by
the proposal of some safeguard which will render them secure, not by the
abandonment of our interests. {55} And even so, men of Athens, I feel
indignant at the very fact that some of you are so much pained at the
prospect of the plunder of our funds, when you have it in your power both
to protect them and to punish the culprits, and yet feel no pain when
Philip is seizing all Hellas piecemeal for his plunder, and seizing it to
strengthen himself against you. {56} What then is the reason, men of
Athens, that though Philip's campaigns, his aggressions, his seizure of
cities, are so unconcealed, none of my opponents has ever said that _he_
was bringing about war? Why is it those who advise you not to allow it,
not to make these sacrifices, that they accuse, and say that _they_ will
be the cause of the war? I will inform you. {57} It is because[n] they
wish to divert the anger which you are likely to show, if you suffer at
all from the war, on to the heads of those who are giving you the best
advice in your own interests. They want you to sit and try such persons,
instead of resisting Philip; and they themselves are to be the
prosecutors, instead of paying the penalty for their present actions. That
is the meaning of their assertion that there are some here, forsooth, who
want to bring about war. {58} That is the real point of these allegations
of responsibility. But this I know beyond all doubt--that without waiting
for any one in Athens to propose the declaration of war, Philip has not
only taken many other possessions of ours, but has just now sent an
expedition to Cardia. If, in spite of this, we wish to pretend that he is
not making war on us, he would be the most senseless man living, were he
to attempt to convince us of our error. {59} But what shall we say, when
his attack is made directly upon ourselves? He of course will say that he
is not at war with us--just as he was not at war with Oreus,[n] when his
soldiers were in the land; nor with the Pheraeans,[n] before that, when he
was assaulting their walls; nor with the Olynthians, first of all, until
he and his army were actually within their territory. Or shall we still
say that those who urge resistance are bringing about war? If so, all that
is left to us is slavery. If we may neither offer resistance, nor yet be
suffered to remain at peace, no other compromise[n] is possible. {60} And
further, the issues at stake are not for you merely what they are for
other states. What Philip desires is not your subjection, but your utter
annihilation. For he knows full well that you will never consent to be his
slaves, and that even if you were willing, you would not know the way,
accustomed as you are to govern; and he knows that you will be able to
give him more trouble, if you get the opportunity, than all the rest of
the world. {61} The struggle, then, is a struggle for existence; and as
such you ought to think of it: and you should show your abhorrence of
those who have sold themselves to Philip by beating them to death. For it
is impossible, utterly impossible, to master your enemies outside the
city, before you punish your enemies in the city itself. {62} Whence comes
it, think you, that he is insulting us now (for his conduct seems to me to
be nothing less than this), and that while he at least deceives all other
peoples by doing them favours, he is using threats against you without
more ado? For instance, he enticed the Thessalians by large gifts into
their present servitude; and words cannot describe how greatly he deceived
the Olynthians at first by the gift of Poteidaea and much beside. {63} At
this moment he is alluring the Thebans, by delivering up Boeotia to them,
and ridding them of a long and arduous campaign. Each of these peoples has
first reaped some advantage, before falling into those calamities which
some of them have already suffered, as all the world knows, and some are
destined to suffer whenever their time comes. But as for yourselves, to
pass over all that you have been robbed of at an earlier period,[n] what
deception, what robbery have been practised upon you in the very act of
making the Peace! {64} Have not the Phocians, and Thermopylae, and the
Thracian seaboard--Doriscus, Serrhium, Cersobleptes himself--been taken
from you? Does not Philip at this moment occupy the city of the Cardians,
and avow it openly? Why is it then, that he behaves as he does to all
others, and so differently to you? Because yours is the one city in the
world where men are permitted to speak on behalf of the enemy without
fear; because here a man may take bribes, and still address you with
impunity, even when you have been robbed of your own. In Olynthus it was
only safe to take Philip's side when the people of Olynthus as a whole had
shared Philip's favours, and was enjoying the possession of Poteidaea.
{65} In Thessaly it was only safe to take Philip's side when the
Thessalian commons had shared Philip's favours; for he had expelled the
tyrants for them, and restored to them their Amphictyonic position. In
Thebes it was not safe, until he had restored Boeotia to Thebes and
annihilated the Phocians. {66} But at Athens--though Philip has not only
robbed you of Amphipolis and the territory of the Cardians, but has turned
Euboea into a fortress overlooking your country, and is now on his way to
attack Byzantium--at Athens it _is_ safe to speak in Philip's interest.
Aye, and you know that, of such speakers, some who were poor are rapidly
growing rich; and some who were without name or fame are becoming famous
and distinguished, while you, on the other hand, are becoming inglorious
instead of famous, bankrupt instead of wealthy. For a city's wealth
consists, I imagine, in allies, confidence, loyalty--and of all these you
are bankrupt. {67} And because you are indifferent to these advantages,
and let them drift away from you, he has become prosperous and powerful,
and formidable to all, Hellenes and foreigners alike; while you are
deserted and humbled, with a splendid profusion of commodities in your
market, and a contemptible lack of all those things with which you should
have been provided. But I observe that certain speakers do not follow the
same principles in the advice which they give you, as they follow for
themselves. _You_, they tell you, ought to remain quiet, even when you are
wronged; but _they_ cannot remain quiet in your presence, even when no one
is wronging them.
{68} But now some one or other comes forward and says, 'Ah, but you will
not move a motion or take any risk. You are a poor-spirited coward.' Bold,
offensive, shameless, I am not, and I trust I may never be; and yet I
think I have more courage than very many of your dashing statesmen. {69}
For one, men of Athens, who overlooks all that the city's interest
demands--who prosecutes, confiscates, gives, accuses--does so not from any
bravery, but because in the popular character of his speeches and public
actions he has a guarantee of his personal safety, and therefore is bold
without risk. But one who in acting for the best sets himself in many ways
against your wishes--who never speaks to please, but always to advise what
is best; one who chooses a policy in which more issues must be decided by
chance than by calculation, and yet makes himself responsible to you for
both--that is the courageous man, {70} and such is the citizen who is of
value to his country, rather than those who, to gain an ephemeral
popularity, have ruined the supreme interests of the city. So far am I
from envying these men, or thinking them worthy citizens of their country,
that if any one were to ask me to say, what good _I_ had really done to
the city, although, men of Athens, I could tell how often I had been
trierarch and choregus,[n] how I had contributed funds, ransomed
prisoners, and done other like acts of generosity, I would mention none of
these things; {71} I would say only that my policy is not one of measures
like theirs--that although, like others, I could make accusations and
shower favours and confiscate property and do all that my opponents do, I
have never to this day set myself to do any of these things; I have been
influenced neither by gain nor by ambition; but I continue to give the
advice which sets me below many others in your estimation, but which must
make you greater, if you will listen to it; for so much, perhaps, I may
say without offence. {72} Nor, I think, should I be acting fairly as a
citizen, if I devised such political measures as would at once make me the
first man in Athens, and you the last of all peoples. As the measures of a
loyal politician develop, the greatness of his country should develop with
them; and it is the thing which is best, not the thing which is easiest,
that every speaker should advocate. Nature will find the way to the
easiest course unaided. To the best, the words and the guidance of the
loyal citizen must show the way.
{73} I have heard it remarked before now, that though what I _say_ is
always what is best, still I never contribute anything but words; whereas
the city needs work of some practical kind. I will tell you without any
concealment my own sentiments on this matter. There _is_ no work that can
be demanded of any of your public advisers, except that he should advise
what is best; and I think I can easily show you that this is so. {74} No
doubt you know how the great Timotheus[n] delivered a speech to the effect
that you ought to go to the rescue and save the Euboeans, when the Thebans
were trying to reduce them to servitude; and how, in the course of his
speech, he spoke somewhat in this strain:--'What?' said he, 'when you
actually have the Thebans in the island, do you debate what you are to do
with them, and how you are to act? Will you not cover the sea with
warships, men of Athens? Will you not rise from your seats and go
instantly to the Peiraeus and launch your vessels?' {75} So Timotheus
spoke, and you acted as he bade you; and through his speech and your
action the work was done. But if he had given you the best possible advice
(as in fact he did), and you had lapsed into indolence and paid no
attention to it, would the city have achieved any of the results which
followed on that occasion? Impossible! And so it is with all that I say
to-day, and with all that this or that speaker may say. For the actions
you must look to yourselves; from the speaker you must require that he
give you the best counsel that he can.[n]
{76} I desire now to sum up my advice and to leave the platform. I say
that we must contribute funds, and must keep together the force now in
existence, correcting anything that may seem amiss in it, but not
disbanding the whole force because of the possible criticisms against it.
We must send envoys everywhere to instruct, to warn, and to act. Above
all, we must punish those who take bribes in connexion with public
affairs, and must everywhere display our abhorrence of them; in order that
reasonable men, who offer their honest services, may find their policy
justified in their own eyes and in those of others. {77} If you treat the
situation thus, and cease to ignore it altogether, there is a chance--a
chance I say, even now--that it may improve. If, however, you sit idle,
with an interest that stops short at applause and acclamation, and retires
into the background when any action is required, I can imagine no oratory,
which, without action on your part, will be able to save your country.
FOOTNOTES
[1] See Third Philippic Sec.Sec. 59 sqq.
[2] See Introduction to First Philippic.
[3] [Greek: est_o d_e.]
THE THIRD PHILIPPIC (Or. IX)
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[_Introduction_. The Third Philippic seems to have been delivered in the
late spring or early summer of 341 B. C., about two months after the
Speech on the Chersonese, which apparently had little positive result,
though it probably prevented the recall and prosecution of Diopeithes. The
immediate occasion of the Third Philippic was a request from the forces in
the Chersonese for supplies. The general situation is the same as at the
date of the last speech, but the danger to Byzantium is more pressing.
Demosthenes now takes the broad ground of Panhellenic policy, and formally
proposes to send envoys throughout Greece, to unite all the Greek states
against Philip, as well as to send immediate reinforcements and supplies
to the Chersonese.
Many critics, ancient and modern, have regarded this as the greatest of
all Demosthenes' political orations. The lessons of history (from the
speaker's point of view) are repeated and enforced by the citation of
instance after instance. The tone of the speech, while less varied than
that of the last, is grave and intense. The passage (Sec.Sec. 36 ff.) in which
the orator contrasts the spirit of Athenian political life in the past
with that of his own day is one of the most impressive in all his works,
and the nobility of his appeal to the traditional ideals of Athenian
policy has been universally recognized even by his most severe critics.
The speech is found in the MSS. in two forms, of which the shorter omits a
number of passages[1] which the longer includes, though there are signs of
an imperfect blending of the two versions in certain places. It seems
probable that both versions are due to Demosthenes, and the speech may
have been more than once revised by him before publication or
republication. In which form it was delivered there is not sufficient
evidence to show.]
{1} Many speeches are made, men of Athens, at almost every meeting of the
Assembly, with reference to the aggressions which Philip has been
committing, ever since he concluded the Peace, not only against yourselves
but against all other peoples; and I am sure that all would agree, however
little they may act on their belief, that our aim, both in speech and in
action, should be to cause him to cease from his insolence and to pay the
penalty for it. And yet I see that in fact the treacherous sacrifice of
our interests has gone on, until what seems an ill-omened saying may, I
fear, be really true--that if all who came forward desired to propose, and
you desired to carry, the measures which would make your position as
pitiful as it could possibly be, it could not (so I believe), be made
worse than it is now. {2} It may be that there are many reasons for this,
and that our affairs did not reach their present condition from any one or
two causes. But if you examine the matter aright, you will find that the
chief responsibility rests with those whose aim is to win your favour, not
to propose what is best. Some of them, men of Athens, so long as they can
maintain the conditions which bring them reputation and influence, take no
thought for the future [and therefore think that you also should take
none]; while others, by accusing and slandering those who are actively at
work,[n] are simply trying to make the city spend its energies in
punishing the members of its own body, and so leave Philip free to say and
do what he likes. {3} Such political methods as these, familiar to you as
they are, are the real causes of the evil. And I beg you, men of Athens,
if I tell you certain truths outspokenly, to let no resentment on your
part fall upon me on this account. Consider the matter in this light. In
every other sphere of life, you believe that the right of free speech
ought to be so universally shared by all who are in the city, that you
have extended it both to foreigners and to slaves; and one may see many a
servant in Athens speaking his mind with greater liberty than is granted
to citizens in some other states: but from the sphere of political counsel
you have utterly banished this liberty. {4} The result[n] is that in your
meetings you give yourselves airs and enjoy their flattery, listening to
nothing but what is meant to please you, while in the world of facts and
events, you are in the last extremity of peril. If then you are still in
this mood to-day, I do not know what I can say; but if you are willing to
listen while I tell you, without flattery, what your interest requires, I
am prepared to speak. For though our position is very bad indeed, and much
has been sacrificed, it is still possible, even now, if you will do your
duty, to set all right once more. {5} It is a strange thing, perhaps, that
I am about to say, but it is true. The worst feature in the past is that
in which lies our best hope for the future. And what is this? It is that
you are in your present plight because you do not do any part of your
duty, small or great; for of course, if you were doing all that you should
do, and were still in this evil case, you could not even hope for any
improvement. As it is, Philip has conquered your indolence and your
indifference; but he has not conquered Athens. You have not been
vanquished--you have never even stirred. {6} [Now if it was admitted by us
all that Philip was at war with Athens, and was transgressing the Peace, a
speaker would have to do nothing but to advise you as to the safest and
easiest method of resistance to him. But since there are some who are in
so extraordinary a frame of mind that, though he is capturing cities,
though many of your possessions are in his hands, and though he is
committing aggressions against all men, they still tolerate certain
speakers, who constantly assert at your meetings that it is some of _us_
who are provoking the war, it is necessary to be on our guard and come to
a right understanding on the matter. {7} For there is a danger lest any
one who proposes or advises resistance should find himself accused of
having brought about the war.]
[Well, I say this first of all, and lay it down as a principle, that if it
is open to us to deliberate whether we should remain at peace or should go
to war ...]
{8} Now if it is possible for the city to remain at peace--if the decision
rests with us (that I may make this my starting-point)--then, I say that
we ought to do so, and I call upon any one who says that it is so to move
his motion, and to act and not to defraud us.[n] But if another with
weapons in his hands and a large force about him holds out to you the
_name_ of peace, while his own acts are acts of war, what course remains
open to us but that of resistance? though if you wish to profess peace in
the same manner as he, I have no quarrel with you. {9} But if any man's
conception of peace is that it is a state in which Philip can master all
that intervenes till at last he comes to attack ourselves, such a
conception, in the first place, is madness; and, in the second place, this
peace that he speaks of is a peace which you are to observe towards
Philip, while he does not observe it towards you: and this it is--this
power to carry on war against you, without being met by any hostilities on
your part--that Philip is purchasing with all the money that he is
spending.
{10} Indeed, if we intend to wait till the time comes when he admits that
he is at war with us, we are surely the most innocent persons in the
world. Why, even if he comes to Attica itself, to the very Peiraeus, he
will never make such an admission, if we are to judge by his dealings with
others. {11} For, to take one instance, he told the Olynthians, when he
was five miles from the city, that there were only two alternatives--
either they must cease to live in Olynthus, or he to live in Macedonia:
but during the whole time before that, whenever any one accused him of any
such sentiments, he was indignant and sent envoys to answer the charge.
Again, he marched into the Phocians' country, as though visiting his
allies:[n] it was by Phocian envoys that he was escorted on the march; and
most people in Athens contended strongly that his crossing the Pass would
bring no good to Thebes. {12} Worse still, he has lately seized Pherae[n]
and still holds it, though he went to Thessaly as a friend and an ally.
And, latest of all, he told those unhappy citizens of Oreus[n] that he had
sent his soldiers to visit them and to make kind inquiries; he had heard
that they were sick, and suffering from faction, and it was right for an
ally and a true friend to be present at such a time. {13} Now if, instead
of giving them warning and using open force, he deliberately chose to
deceive these men, who could have done him no harm, though they might have
taken precautions against suffering any themselves, do you imagine that he
will make a formal declaration of war upon you before he commences
hostilities, and that, so long as you are content to be deceived? {14}
Impossible! For so long as you, though you are the injured party, make no
complaint against him, but accuse some of your own body, he would be the
most fatuous man on earth if _he_ were to interrupt your strife and
contentions with one another--to bid you turn upon himself, and so to cut
away the ground from the arguments by which his hirelings put you off,
when they tell you that _he_ is not at war with Athens.
{15} In God's name, is there a man in his senses who would judge by words,
and not by facts, whether another was at peace or at war with him? Of
course there is not. Why, from the very first, when the Peace had only
just been made, before those who are now in the Chersonese had been sent
out, Philip was taking Serrhium[n] and Doriscus, and expelling the
soldiers who were in the castle of Serrhium and the Sacred Mountain, where
they had been placed by your general. {16} But what was he doing, in
acting thus? For he had sworn to a Peace.[n] And let no one ask, 'What do
these things amount to? What do they matter to Athens?' For whether these
acts were trifles which could have no interest for you is another matter;
but the principles of religion[n] and justice, whether a man transgress
them in small things or great, have always the same force. What? When he
is sending mercenaries into the Chersonese, which the king and all the
Hellenes have acknowledged to be yours; when he openly avows that he is
going to the rescue, and states it in his letter, what is it that he is
doing? {17} He tells you, indeed, that he is not making war upon you. But
so far am I from admitting that one who acts in this manner is observing
the Peace which he made with you, that I hold that in grasping at Megara,
in setting up tyrants in Euboea, in advancing against Thrace at the
present moment, in pursuing his machinations in the Peloponnese, and in
carrying out his entire policy with the help of his army, he is violating
the Peace and is making war against you;--unless you mean to say that even
to bring up engines to besiege you is no breach of the Peace, until they
are actually planted against your walls. But you will not say this; for
the man who is taking the steps and contriving the means which will lead
to my capture is at war with me, even though he has not yet thrown a
missile or shot an arrow. {18} Now what are the things which would imperil
your safety, if anything should happen?[n] The alienation of the
Hellespont, the placing of Megara and Euboea in the power of the enemy,
and the attraction of Peloponnesian sympathy to his cause. Can I then say
that one who is erecting such engines of war as these against the city is
at peace with you? {19} Far from it! For from the very day when he
annihilated the Phocians--from that very day, I say, I date the beginning
of his hostilities against you. And for your part, I think that you will
be wise if you resist him at once; but that if you let him be, you will
find that, when you wish to resist, resistance itself is impossible.
Indeed, so widely do I differ, men of Athens, from all your other
advisers, that I do not think there is any room for discussion to-day in
regard to the Chersonese or Byzantium. {20} We _must_ go to their defence,
and take every care that they do not suffer [and we must send all that
they need to the soldiers who are at present there]. But we _have_ to take
counsel for the good of all the Hellenes, in view of the grave peril in
which they stand. And I wish to tell you on what grounds I am so alarmed
at the situation, in order that if my reasoning is correct, you may share
my conclusions, and exercise some forethought for yourselves at least, if
you are actually unwilling to do so for the Hellenes as a whole; but that
if you think that I am talking nonsense, and am out of my senses, you may
both now and hereafter decline to attend to me as though I were a sane
man.
{21} The rise of Philip to greatness from such small and humble
beginnings; the mistrustful and quarrelsome attitude of the Hellenes
towards one another; the fact that his growth out of what he was into what
he is was a far more extraordinary thing than would be his subjugation of
all that remains, when he has already secured so much;--all this and all
similar themes, upon which I might speak at length, I will pass over. {22}
But I see that all men, beginning with yourselves, have conceded to him
the very thing which has been at issue in every Hellenic war during the
whole of the past. And what is this? It is the right to act as he pleases
--to mutilate and to strip the Hellenic peoples, one by one, to attack and
to enslave their cities. {23} For seventy-three years[n] you were the
leading people of Hellas, and the Spartans for thirty years save one;[n]
and in these last times, after the battle of Leuctra,[n] the Thebans too
acquired some power: yet neither to you nor to Thebes nor to Sparta was
such a right ever conceded by the Hellenes, as the right to do whatever
you pleased. Far from it! {24} First of all it was your own behaviour--or
rather that of the Athenians of that day--which some thought immoderate;
and all, even those who had no grievance against Athens, felt bound to
join the injured parties, and to make war upon you. Then, in their turn,
the Spartans, when they had acquired an empire and succeeded to a
supremacy like your own, attempted to go beyond all bounds and to disturb
the established order[n] to an unjustifiable extent; and once more, all,
even those who had no grievance against them, had recourse to war. {25}
Why mention the others? For we ourselves and the Spartans, though we could
originally allege no injury done by the one people to the other,
nevertheless felt bound to go to war on account of the wrongs which we saw
the rest suffering. And yet all the offences of the Spartans in those
thirty years of power, and of your ancestors in their seventy years, were
less, men of Athens, than the wrongs inflicted upon the Greeks by Philip,
in the thirteen years, not yet completed, during which he has been to the
fore. Less do I say? {26} They are not a fraction of them. [A few words
will easily prove this.] I say nothing of Olynthus, and Methone, and
Apollonia, and thirty-two cities in the Thracian region,[n] all
annihilated by him with such savagery, that a visitor to the spot would
find it difficult to tell that they had ever been inhabited. I remain
silent in regard to the extirpation of the great Phocian race. But what is
the condition of Thessaly? Has he not robbed their very cities of their
governments,[n] and set up tetrarchies, that they may be enslaved, not
merely by whole cities, but by whole tribes at a time? {27} Are not the
cities of Euboea even now ruled by tyrants, and that in an island that is
neighbour to Thebes and Athens? Does he not write expressly in his
letters, 'I am at peace with those who choose to obey me'? And what he
thus writes he does not fail to act upon; for he is gone to invade the
Hellespont; he previously went to attack Ambracia;[n] the great city of
Elis[n] in the Peloponnese is his; he has recently intrigued against
Megara;[n] and neither Hellas nor the world beyond it is large enough to
contain the man's ambition. {28} But though all of us, the Hellenes, see
and hear these things, we send no representatives to one another to
discuss the matter; we show no indignation; we are in so evil a mood, so
deep have the lines been dug which sever city from city, that up to this
very day we are unable to act as either our interest or our duty require.
{29} We cannot unite; we can form no combination for mutual support or
friendship; but we look on while the man grows greater, because every one
has made up his mind (as it seems to me) to profit by the time during
which his neighbour is being ruined, and no one cares or acts for the
safety of the Hellenes. For we all know that Philip is like the recurrence
or the attack of a fever or other illness, in his descent upon those who
fancy themselves for the present well out of his reach. {30} And further,
you must surely realize that all the wrongs that the Hellenes suffered
from the Spartans or ourselves they at least suffered at the hands of
true-born sons of Hellas; and (one might conceive) it was as though a
lawful son, born to a great estate, managed his affairs in some wrong or
improper way;--his conduct would in itself deserve blame and denunciation,
but at least it could not be said that he was not one of the family, or
was not the heir to the property. {31} But had it been a slave or a
supposititious son that was thus ruining and spoiling an inheritance to
which he had no title, why, good Heavens! how infinitely more scandalous
and reprehensible all would have declared it to be. And yet they show no
such feeling in regard to Philip, although not only is he no Hellene, not
only has he no kinship with Hellenes, but he is not even a barbarian from
a country that one could acknowledge with credit;--he is a pestilent
Macedonian, from whose country it used not to be possible to buy even a
slave of any value.
{32} And in spite of this, is there any degree of insolence to which he
does not proceed? Not content with annihilating cities, does he not manage
the Pythian games,[n] the common meeting of the Hellenes, and send his
slaves to preside over the competition in his absence? [Is he not master
of Thermopylae, and of the passes which lead into Hellenic territory? Does
he not hold that district with garrisons and mercenaries? Has he not taken
the precedence in consulting the oracle, and thrust aside ourselves and
the Thessalians and Dorians and the rest of the Amphictyons, though the
right is not one which is given even to all of the Hellenes?] {33} Does he
not write to the Thessalians to prescribe the constitution under which
they are to live? Does he not send one body of mercenaries to Porthmus, to
expel the popular party of Eretria, and another to Oreus, to set up
Philistides as tyrant? And yet the Hellenes see these things and endure
them, gazing (it seems to me) as they would gaze at a hailstorm--each
people praying that it may not come their way, but no one trying to
prevent it. Nor is it only his outrages upon Hellas that go unresisted.
{34} No one resists even the aggressions which are committed against
himself. Ambracia and Leucas belong to the Corinthians--he has attacked
them: Naupactus to the Achaeans--he has sworn to hand it over to the
Aetolians: Echinus[n] to the Thebans--he has taken it from them, and is
now marching against their allies the Byzantines--is it not so? {35} And
of our own possessions, to pass by all the rest, is not Cardia, the
greatest city in the Chersonese, in his hands? Thus are we treated; and we
are all hesitating and torpid, with our eyes upon our neighbours,
distrusting one another, rather than the man whose victims we all are. But
if he treats us collectively in this outrageous fashion, what do you think
he will do, when he has become master of each of us separately?
{36} What then is the cause of these things? For as it was not without
reason and just cause that the Hellenes in old days were so prompt for
freedom, so it is not without reason or cause that they are now so prompt
to be slaves. There was a spirit, men of Athens, a spirit in the minds of
the people in those days, which is absent to-day--the spirit which
vanquished the wealth of Persia, which led Hellas in the path of freedom,
and never gave way in face of battle by sea or by land; a spirit whose
extinction to-day has brought universal ruin and turned Hellas upside
down. What was this spirit? [It was nothing subtle nor clever.] {37} It
meant that men who took money from those who aimed at dominion or at the
ruin of Hellas were execrated by all; that it was then a very grave thing
to be convicted of bribery; that the punishment for the guilty man was the
heaviest that could be inflicted; that for him there could be no plea for
mercy, nor hope of pardon. {38} No orator, no general, would then sell the
critical opportunity whenever it arose--the opportunity so often offered
to men by fortune, even when they are careless and their foes are on their
guard. They did not barter away the harmony between people and people, nor
their own mistrust of the tyrant and the foreigner, nor any of these high
sentiments. {39} Where are such sentiments now? They have been sold in the
market and are gone; and those have been imported in their stead, through
which the nation lies ruined and plague-stricken--the envy of the man who
has received his hire; the amusement which accompanies his avowal; [the
pardon granted to those whose guilt is proved;] the hatred of one who
censures the crime; and all the appurtenances of corruption. {40} For as
to ships, numerical strength, unstinting abundance of funds and all other
material of war, and all the things by which the strength of cities is
estimated, every people can command these in greater plenty and on a
larger scale by far than in old days. But all these resources are rendered
unserviceable, ineffectual, unprofitable, by those who traffic in them.
{41} That these things are so to-day, you doubtless see, and need no
testimony of mine: and that in times gone by the opposite was true, I will
prove to you, not by any words of my own, but by the record inscribed by
your ancestors on a pillar of bronze, and placed on the Acropolis [not to
be a lesson to themselves--they needed no such record to put them in a
right mind--but to be a reminder and an example to you of the zeal that
you ought to display in such a cause]. {42} What then is the record?
'Arthmius,[n] son of Pythonax, of Zeleia, is an outlaw, and is the enemy
of the Athenian people and their allies, he and his house.' Then follows
the reason for which this step was taken--'because he brought the gold
from the Medes into the Peloponnese.' {43} Such is the record. Consider,
in Heaven's name, what must have been the mind of the Athenians of that
day, when they did this, and their conception of their position. They set
up a record, that because a man of Zeleia, Arthmius by name, a slave of
the King of Persia (for Zeleia is in Asia), as part of his service to the
king, had brought gold, not to Athens, but to the Peloponnese, he should
be an enemy of Athens and her allies, he and his house, and that they
should be outlaws. {44} And this outlawry is no such disfranchisement as
we ordinarily mean by the word. For what would it matter to a man of
Zeleia, that he might have no share in the public life of Athens? But
there is a clause in the Law of Murder, dealing with those in connexion
with whose death the law does not allow a prosecution for murder [but the
slaying of them is to be a holy act]: 'And let him die an outlaw,' it
runs. The meaning, accordingly, is this--that the slayer of such a man is
to be pure from all guilt. {45} They thought, therefore, that the safety
of all the Hellenes was a matter which concerned themselves--apart from
this belief, it could not have mattered to them whether any one bought or
corrupted men in the Peloponnese; and whenever they detected such
offenders, they carried their punishment and their vengeance so far as to
pillory their names for ever. As the natural consequence, the Hellenes
were a terror to the foreigner, not the foreigner to the Hellenes. It is
not so now. Such is not your attitude in these or in other matters. {46}
But what is it? [You know it yourselves; for why should I accuse you
explicitly on every point? And that of the rest of the Hellenes is like
your own, and no better; and so I say that the present situation demands
our utmost earnestness and good counsel.[n]] And what counsel? Do you bid
me tell you, and will you not be angry if I do so?
[_He reads from the document_.]
{47} Now there is an ingenuous argument, which is used by those who would
reassure the city, to the effect that, after all, Philip is not yet in the
position once held by the Spartans, who ruled everywhere over sea and
land, with the king for their ally, and nothing to withstand them; and
that, none the less, Athens defended herself even against them, and was
not swept away. Since that time the progress in every direction, one may
say, has been great, and has made the world to-day very different from
what it was then; but I believe that in no respect has there been greater
progress or development than in the art of war. {48} In the first place, I
am told that in those days the Spartans and all our other enemies would
invade us for four or five months--during, that is, the actual summer--and
would damage Attica with infantry and citizen-troops, and then return home
again. And so old-fashioned were the men of that day--nay rather, such
true citizens--that no one ever purchased any object from another for
money, but their warfare was of a legitimate and open kind. {49} But now,
as I am sure you see, most of our losses are the result of treachery, and
no issue is decided by open conflict or battle; while you are told that it
is not because he leads a column of heavy infantry[n] that Philip can
march wherever he chooses, but because he has attached to himself a force
of light infantry, cavalry, archers, mercenaries, and similar troops. {50}
And whenever, with such advantages,[n] he falls upon a State which is
disordered within, and in their distrust of one another no one goes out in
defence of its territory, he brings up his engines and besieges them. I
pass over the fact that summer and winter are alike to him--that there is
no close season during which he suspends operations. {51} But if you all
know these things and take due account of them, you surely must not let
the war pass into Attica, nor be dashed from your seat through looking
back to the simplicity of those old hostilities with Sparta. You must
guard against him, at the greatest possible distance, both by political
measures and by preparations; you must prevent his stirring from home,
instead of grappling with him at close quarters in a struggle to the
death. {52} For, men of Athens, we have many natural advantages for a
war,[n] if we are willing to do our duty. There is the character of his
country, much of which we can harry and damage, and a thousand other
things. But for a pitched battle he is in better training than we.
{53} Nor have you only to recognize these facts, and to resist him by
actual operations of war. You must also by reasoned judgement and of set
purpose come to execrate those who address you in his interest,
remembering that it is impossible to master the enemies of the city, until
you punish those who are serving them in the city itself. {54} And this,
before God and every Heavenly Power--this you will not be able to do; for
you have reached such a pitch of folly or distraction or--I know not what
to call it; for often has the fear actually entered my mind, that some
more than mortal power may be driving our fortunes to ruin--that to enjoy
their abuse, or their malice, or their jests, or whatever your motive may
chance to be, you call upon men to speak who are hirelings, and some of
whom would not even deny it; and you laugh to hear their abuse of others.
{55} And terrible as this is, there is yet worse to be told. For you have
actually made political life safer for these men, than for those who
uphold your own cause. And yet observe what calamities the willingness to
listen to such men lays up in store. I will mention facts known to you
all.
{56} In Olynthus, among those who were engaged in public affairs, there
was one party who were on the side of Philip, and served his interests in
everything; and another whose aim was their city's real good, and the
preservation of their fellow citizens from bondage. Which were the
destroyers of their country? which betrayed the cavalry, through whose
betrayal Olynthus perished? Those whose sympathies were with Philip's
cause; those who, while the city still existed brought such dishonest and
slanderous charges against the speakers whose advice was for the best,
that, in the case of Apollonides at least, the people of Olynthus was even
induced to banish the accused.
{57} Nor is this instance of the unmixed evil wrought by these practices
in the case of the Olynthians an exceptional one, or without parallel
elsewhere. For in Eretria,[n] when Plutarchus and the mercenaries had been
got rid of, and the people had control of the city and of Porthmus, one
party wished to entrust the State to you, the other to entrust it to
Philip. And through listening mainly, or rather entirely, to the latter,
these poor luckless Eretrians were at last persuaded to banish the
advocates of their own interests. {58} For, as you know, Philip, their
ally, sent Hipponicus with a thousand mercenaries, stripped Porthmus of
its walls, and set up three tyrants--Hipparchus, Automedon, and
Cleitarchus; and since then he has already twice expelled them from the
country when they wished to recover their position [sending on the first
occasion the mercenaries commanded by Eurylochus, on the second, those
under Parmenio].
{59} And why go through the mass of the instances? Enough to mention how
in Oreus Philip had, as his agents, Philistides, Menippus, Socrates,
Thoas, and Agapaeus--the very men who are now in possession of the city--
and every one knew the fact; while a certain Euphraeus,[n] who once lived
here in Athens, acted in the interests of freedom, to save his country
from bondage. {60} To describe the insults and the contumely with which he
met would require a long story; but a year before the capture of the town
he laid an information of treason against Philistides and his party,
having perceived the nature of their plans. A number of men joined forces,
with Philip for their paymaster and director, and haled Euphraeus off to
prison as a disturber of the peace. {61} Seeing this, the democratic party
in Oreus, instead of coming to the rescue of Euphraeus, and beating the
other party to death, displayed no anger at all against them, and agreed
with a malicious pleasure that Euphraeus deserved his fate. After this the
conspirators worked with all the freedom they desired for the capture of
the city, and made arrangements for the execution of the scheme; while any
of the democratic party, who perceived what was going on, maintained a
panic-stricken silence, remembering the fate of Euphraeus. So wretched was
their condition, that though this dreadful calamity was confronting them,
no one dared open his lips, until all was ready and the enemy was
advancing up to the walls. Then the one party set about the defence, the
other about the betrayal of the city. {62} And when the city had been
captured in this base and shameful manner, the successful party governed
despotically: and of those who had been their own protectors, and had been
ready to treat Euphraeus with all possible harshness, they expelled some
and murdered others; while the good Euphraeus killed himself, thus
testifying to the righteousness and purity of his motives in opposing
Philip on behalf of his countrymen.
{63} Now for what reason, you may be wondering, were the peoples of
Olynthus and Eretria and Oreus more agreeably disposed towards Philip's
advocates than towards their own? The reason was the same as it is with
you--that those who speak for your true good can never, even if they
would, speak to win popularity with you; they are constrained to inquire
how the State may be saved: while their opponents, in the very act of
seeking popularity, are co-operating with Philip. {64} The one party said,
'You must pay taxes;' the other, 'There is no need to do so.' The one
said, 'Go to war, and do not trust him;' the other, 'Remain at peace,'--
until they were in the toils. And--not to mention each separately--I
believe that the same thing was true of all. The one side said what would
enable them to win favour; the other, what would secure the safety of
their State. And at last the main body of the people accepted much that
they proposed--not now from any such desire for gratification, nor from
ignorance, but as a concession to circumstances, thinking that their cause
was now wholly lost. {65} It is this fate, I solemnly assure you, that I
dread for you, when the time comes that you make your reckoning, and
realize that there is no longer anything that can be done. May you never
find yourselves, men of Athens, in such a position! Yet in any case, it
were better to die ten thousand deaths, than to do anything out of
servility towards Philip [or to sacrifice any of those who speak for your
good]. A noble recompense did the people in Oreus receive, for entrusting
themselves to Philip's friends, and thrusting Euphraeus aside! {66} and a
noble recompense the democracy of Eretria, for driving away your envoys,
and surrendering to Cleitarchus! They are slaves, scourged and butchered!
A noble clemency did he show to the Olynthians, who elected Lasthenes to
command the cavalry, and banished Apollonides! {67} It is folly, and it is
cowardice, to cherish hopes like these, to give way to evil counsels, to
refuse to do anything that you should do, to listen to the advocates of
the enemy's cause, and to fancy that you dwell in so great a city that,
whatever happens, you will not suffer any harm. {68} Aye, and it is
shameful to exclaim after the event, 'Why, who would have expected this?
Of course, we ought to have done, or not to have done, such and such
things!' The Olynthians could tell you of many things, to have foreseen
which in time would have saved them from destruction. So too could the
people of Oreus, and the Phocians, and every other people that has been
destroyed. {69} But how does that help them now? So long as the vessel is
safe, be it great or small, so long must the sailor and the pilot and
every man in his place exert himself and take care that no one may capsize
it by design or by accident: but when the seas have overwhelmed it, all
their efforts are in vain. {70} So it is, men of Athens, with us. While we
are still safe, with our great city, our vast resources, our noble name,
what are we to do? Perhaps some one sitting here has long been wishing to
ask this question. Aye, and I will answer it, and will move my motion; and
you shall carry it, if you wish. We ourselves, in the first place, must
conduct the resistance and make preparation for it--with ships, that is,
and money, and soldiers. For though all but ourselves give way and become
slaves, we at least must contend for freedom. {71} And when we have made
all these preparations ourselves, and let them be seen, then let us call
upon the other states for aid, and send envoys to carry our message [in
all directions--to the Peloponnese, to Rhodes, to Chios, to the king; for
it is not unimportant for his interests either that Philip should be
prevented from subjugating the world]; that so, if you persuade them, you
may have partners to share the danger and the expense, in case of need;
and if you do not, you may at least delay the march of events. {72} For
since the war is with a single man, and not against the strength of a
united state, even delay is not without its value, any more than were
those embassies[n] of protest which last year went round the Peloponnese,
when I and Polyeuctus, that best of men, and Hegesippus and the other
envoys went on our tour, and forced him to halt, so that he neither went
to attack Acarnania, nor set out for the Peloponnese. {73} But I do not
mean that we should call upon the other states, if we are not willing to
take any of the necessary steps ourselves. It is folly to sacrifice what
is our own, and then pretend to be anxious for the interests of others--to
neglect the present, and alarm others in regard to the future. I do not
propose this. I say that we must send money to the forces in the
Chersonese, and do all that they ask of us; that we must make preparation
ourselves, while we summon, convene, instruct, and warn the rest of the
Hellenes. That is the policy for a city with a reputation such as yours.
{74} But if you fancy that the people of Chalcis or of Megara will save
Hellas, while you run away from the task, you are mistaken. They may well
be content if they can each save themselves. The task is yours. It is the
prerogative that your forefathers won, and through many a great peril
bequeathed to you. {75} But if each of you is to sit and consult his
inclinations, looking for some way by which he may escape any personal
action, the first consequence will be that you will never find any one who
will act; and the second, I fear, that the day will come when we shall be
forced to do, at one and the same time, all the things we wish to avoid.
{76} This then is my proposal, and this I move. If the proposal is carried
out, I think that even now the state of our affairs may be remedied. But
if any one has a better proposal to make, let him make it, and give us his
advice. And I pray to all the gods that whatever be the decision that you
are about to make, it may be for your good.
FOOTNOTES
[1] These are printed in square brackets in the translation.
ON THE CROWN (Or. XVIII)
(Back To Top)
[_Introduction_. The advice given by Demosthenes in the Third Philippic
(spoken before the middle of 341) was in the main followed. He himself was
sent almost immediately to Byzantium, where he renewed the alliance
between that city and Athens, and at the same time entered into relations
with Abydos and the Thracian princes. Rhodes, and probably Chios and Cos,
were also conciliated, and an embassy was sent to the King of Persia to
ask for aid against Philip. The king appears to have sent assistance to
Diopeithes, and it is also stated (not on the best authority) that he sent
large sums of money to Demosthenes and Hypereides. Demosthenes further
succeeded, in conjunction with Callias of Chalcis, in organizing a league
against Philip, which included Corinth, Megara, Corcyra, and the
Acarnanians, and which at least supplied a considerable number of men and
some funds. The cities of Euboea, most of which had been in the hands of
Philip's party, were also formed into a confederacy, in alliance with
Athens, under the leadership of Chalcis; Philistides was expelled from
Oreus, about July 341, by the allied forces under Cephisophon; and later
in the summer, Phocion drove Cleitarchus from Eretria. On the motion of
Aristonicus, the Athenians voted Demosthenes a golden crown, which was
conferred on him in the theatre at the Great Dionysia in March 340. The
arrest of Anaxinus of Oreus, and his condemnation as a spy, acting in
Philip's interest, must have occurred about the same time. Not long
afterwards Demosthenes succeeded in carrying out a complete reorganization
of the trierarchic system, by which he made the burden of the expense vary
strictly according to property, and secured a regular and efficient supply
of ships, money, and men.
In the meantime (in 341 or 340) the island of Peparethus was attacked by
Philip's ships, in revenge for the seizure of the Macedonian garrison in
Halonnesus by the Peparethians: and the Athenian admirals were ordered to
retaliate. Philip himself had been pursuing his course in Thrace; and on
the rejection of his request to Byzantium for an alliance, he laid siege
(late in 340) to Perinthus (which lay on his way to Byzantium), sending
part of his forces through the Chersonese. Aided by Byzantine and Persian
soldiers, Perinthus held out, till at last Philip took off most of his
forces and besieged Byzantium itself. He had shortly before this sent to
Athens an express declaration of war, and received a similar declaration
from her, the formal excuse for which was found in the recent seizure by
his ships of some Athenian merchant-vessels. But with help from Athens,
Chios, Rhodes, and Cos, the Byzantines maintained the defence. Philip's
position became serious; but he managed by a ruse to get his ships away
into the open sea, and even to do some damage to the Athenian settlers in
the Chersonese. In the winter he withdrew from Byzantium, and in 339 made
an incursion into Scythia; but, returning through the country of the
Triballi, he sustained some loss, and was severely wounded. Later in the
year a new Sacred War which had arisen gave him a convenient opportunity
for the invasion of Greece.
At the meeting of the Amphictyonic Council in the autumn of 340,[1]
Aeschines was one of the representatives of Athens. The Athenians had
recently offended Thebes by re-gilding and dedicating in the restored
temple at Delphi fifty shields, with an inscription stating that they were
spoil 'taken from the Medes and the Thebans, when they fought against the
Hellenes' (probably at Plataeae in 479). The Locrians of Amphissa intended
(according to Aeschines' account) to propose that the Council should fine
Athens fifty talents. Aeschines rose to state the case for Athens; but a
delegate from Amphissa forbade all mention of the Athenians, and demanded
their exclusion from the temple, on the ground of their alliance with the
accursed Phocians. Aeschines retorted by charging the Amphisseans with
cultivating and building upon the sacred plain of Cirrha--acts forbidden
for all time in 586 B.C.--and roused the Council to such indignation that
they gathered a body of men and destroyed the harbour and the unlawful
buildings of Cirrha; but they were severely handled by the Amphisseans,
and the Council now voted that the Amphictyonic states should send
representatives, to discuss the question of war against Amphissa, to a
meeting to be held at Thermopylae before the spring meeting of the
Council. To this preliminary meeting, the Athenians (though inclined to
view Aeschines' performance with favour), on the advice of Demosthenes,
sent no representatives; nor did the Thebans (the allies of Amphissa). War
was declared by the Amphictyons against Amphissa; but Cottyphus, the
Thessalian, who had been appointed general, made little headway, and (at
the spring or the autumn meeting of the Council) declared that the
Amphictyonic states must either send men and money, or else make Philip
their general. Philip was, of course, at once appointed; but instead of
proceeding against Amphissa, marched to Elateia and fortified it. This
caused the greatest alarm at Athens. Demosthenes was immediately
dispatched to Thebes, where he succeeded, by what appear to have been
liberal and judicious proposals, in making an alliance between Thebes and
Athens, in spite of the attempts of Philip's envoys to counteract his
influence. Euboea, Megara, Corinth, and other members of the league also
sent help. Philip himself called upon his own friends in the Peloponnese
for aid, and at last moved towards Amphissa. Demosthenes seems now to have
succeeded in applying the festival-money to purposes of war, and with the
aid of Lycurgus, who became Controller of the Festival Fund, to have
amassed a large sum for the use of the State. At the Dionysia of 338 he
was again crowned, on the proposal of Demomeles and Hypereides. The allies
at first won some successes and refortified some of the Phocian towns, but
afterwards unfortunately divided their forces, and so enabled Philip to
defeat the two divisions separately, and to destroy Amphissa. Philip's
proposals of peace found supporters both in Thebes and in Athens, but were
counteracted by Demosthenes. Late in the summer of 338, the decisive
battle was fought at Chaeroneia, and resulted in the total rout of the
allies. Demosthenes himself was one of the fugitives. Philip placed a
Macedonian garrison in Thebes, restored his exiled friends to power there,
established a Council of Three Hundred, and (through them) put to death or
banished his enemies. He also gave Orchomenus, Thespiae, and Plataeae
their independence. After a moment of panic, the Athenians, led by
Demosthenes, Lycurgus, and Hypereides, proceeded to take all possible
measures for the defence of the city, while private munificence supplied
the treasury. Demosthenes himself superintended the repair of the
fortifications, and went on a mission to secure a supply of corn. But
Philip, instead of marching upon Athens, sent a message by Demades, whom
he had taken prisoner at Chaeroneia; and the Assembly, in reply,
instructed Demades, Aeschines, and Phocion to ask Philip to release his
Athenian prisoners. Philip released them without ransom, and sent
Antipater and Alexander (with the ashes of the Athenian dead) to offer
terms of peace. By the 'Peace of Demades', concluded while Demosthenes was
still absent, the alliance between Athens and Philip was renewed; the
independence of Athens was guaranteed; Oropus was taken from Thebes and
restored to Athens; and she was permitted to retain Salamis, Samos, Delos,
and probably Lemnos and Imbros. On the other hand, she lost all her
possessions on the Hellespont and in the Chersonese, and promised to join
the league which Philip intended to form for the invasion of Persia.
Demosthenes was selected by the Assembly to deliver the funeral oration
upon those who fell at Chaeroneia; and although the Macedonian party
attacked him repeatedly in the law-courts, he was always acquitted. Philip
paid a long visit to the Peloponnese, in the course of which he placed a
Macedonian garrison in Corinth, ravaged Laconia, giving parts of it to his
allies, the Argives and Arcadians, and announced his plans for the
invasion of Persia at the head of the Greeks; he then returned to
Macedonia.
In 337 Demosthenes was again Commissioner of Fortifications, as well as
Controller of the Festival Fund--the most important office in the State.
He not only performed his work most efficiently, but gave considerable
sums for public purposes out of his private fortune; and early in 336
Ctesiphon proposed, and the Council resolved, that he should once more be
crowned at the Dionysia. But before the proposal could be brought before
the Assembly, Aeschines indicted Ctesiphon for its alleged illegality. The
trial did not take place until late in the summer of 330. We do not know
the reason for so long a delay, but probably the events of the intervening
time were such as to render the state of public feeling unfavourable to
Aeschines. In 336 Philip was assassinated, and was succeeded by Alexander.
In 335 Alexander destroyed Thebes, which had revolted, and sold its
inhabitants into slavery. He also demanded from Athens the surrender of
Demosthenes and other anti-Macedonian politicians and generals, but was
persuaded to be content with the banishment of Charidemus and Ephialtes,
and the promise of the prosecution of Demosthenes for using subsidies from
Persia to help Thebes--a prosecution which was allowed to drop. From 334
onwards Alexander was pursuing his conquests in the East, and we know
practically nothing of the history of Athens until the trial of Ctesiphon
came on in 330.
Aeschines alleged against Ctesiphon (1) that it was illegal to propose to
crown any one who had not passed his examination before the Board of
Auditors at the end of his term of office; and that Demosthenes, who had
been Commissioner of Fortifications and Controller of the Festival Fund,
was still in this position: (2) that it was illegal to proclaim the grant
of a crown at the Dionysia, except in the case of crowns conferred by
foreign states: (3) that it was illegal to insert untrue statements in the
public records, and that the language in which Ctesiphon's decree
described the political career of Demosthenes was untrue. On the first
point Aeschines was almost certainly right: Demosthenes' defence is
sophistical, and all that could really be said was that the rule had often
been broken before. On the second point, certainty is impossible: the most
probable view (though it also has its difficulties) is that there were two
inconsistent laws, and that one of them permitted the proclamation in the
theatre, if expressly voted by the people; but the alleged illegality had
certainly been often committed. The third point, which raised the question
of the value to Athens of Demosthenes' whole political life, was that upon
which the case really turned; and it is to this that Demosthenes devotes
the greater part of his speech, breaking up his reply into convenient
stages by discussions (of a far less happy description) of the other
counts of the indictment, and of the character and career of Aeschines. As
in the Speech on the Embassy, certain facts are misrepresented, and there
are passages which are in bad taste; but Demosthenes proves beyond doubt
his unswerving loyalty to the high ideal of policy which he had formed for
his country, and it is with good reason that parts of this speech have
always been felt to reach a height of eloquence which has never been
surpassed.
The jury acquitted Ctesiphon: and Aeschines, failing to obtain a fifth
part of the votes, and thus incurring a heavy fine and the loss of some of
the rights of a citizen, left Athens, and lived most of the remainder of
his life at Rhodes.
The following is an analysis of the speech in outline:--
I. Introduction (Sec.Sec. 1-8).
II. Defence against charges irrelevant to the indictment (Sec.Sec. 9-52).
(1) Introduction (Sec. 9).
(2) Postponement of reply to charges against his private life
(Sec.Sec. 10, 11).
(3) Reply to charges against his public life (Sec.Sec. 12-52).
(a) Criticism of Aeschines' method of attack (Sec.Sec. 12-16).
(b) Reply in reference to the Peace of Philocrates (Sec.Sec. 17-52).
III. Defence against the indictment itself (Sec.Sec. 53-125).
(1) Introduction (Sec.Sec. 53-9).
(2) Defence of his policy B.C. 346-340 (Sec.Sec. 60-109).
(3) The alleged illegality of crowning him before he had passed
his audit (Sec.Sec. 110-19).
(4) The alleged illegality of the proclamation in the theatre
(Sec.Sec. 120, 121).
(5) Conclusion, including criticism of Aeschines' method of attack
(Sec.Sec. 122-5).
IV. Aeschines' life and character (Sec.Sec. 126-59).
(1) Introduction (Sec.Sec. 126-8).
(2) Parentage and early life of Aeschines (Sec.Sec. 129-31).
(3) Aeschines' connexion with Antiphon, Python, Anaxinus, and
others (Sec.Sec. 132-8).
(4) Aeschines' part in stirring up the war against Amphissa in
339 (Sec.Sec. 139-59).
V. Demosthenes' own policy in 339 and 338 (Sec.Sec. 160-226).
(1) Narrative and defence of the alliance with Thebes (Sec.Sec. 160-95).
(2) Why did not Aeschines protest at the time? (Sec.Sec. 196-8).
(3) Defence of his policy as true to the spirit of Athenian history
(Sec.Sec. 199-210).
(4) Narrative and defence, continued (Sec.Sec. 211-22).
(5) Further criticism of Aeschines' method of attack (Sec.Sec. 223-6).
VI. Replies to various arguments of Aeschines (Sec.Sec. 227-96).
(1) Aeschines' comparison of the inquiry to the examination of
a balance-sheet (Sec.Sec. 227-31).
(2) A proper inquiry would show that Demosthenes had increased
the resources of Athens (Sec.Sec. 232-7).
(3) Reply to the charge of saddling Athens with an undue share
of the expense of the war (Sec.Sec. 238-43).
(4) Reply to the charge of responsibility for the defeat of Chaeroneia
(Sec.Sec. 244-7).
(5) Vindication of his policy after the battle of Chaeroneia
(Sec.Sec. 248-51).
(6) Reply to Aeschines' remarks about the harm done to Athens
by Demosthenes' bad fortune (Sec.Sec. 252-75).
(a) General remarks (Sec.Sec. 252-5).
(b) The fortune of Demosthenes (Sec.Sec. 257, 258).
(c) The fortune of Aeschines (Sec.Sec. 259-64).
(d) Comparison of the two (Sec.Sec. 265, 266).
(e) Demosthenes' use of his fortune for purposes of public and
private munificence (Sec.Sec. 267-9).
(f) Demosthenes not responsible for the misfortunes of Athens
(Sec.Sec. 270-5).
(7) Reply to Aeschines' warning against Demosthenes' cleverness
(Sec.Sec. 276-90).
(a) Comparison of the use made of their talents by the two
orators (Sec.Sec. 276-84).
(b) The choice of Demosthenes, not Aeschines, to deliver the
Funeral Oration (Sec.Sec. 285-90).
(8) Aeschines' feelings about the defeat of Chaeroneia (Sec.Sec. 291-3).
(9) The part played by traitors in recent history (Sec.Sec. 294-6).
VII. Epilogue (Sec.Sec. 297-324).
(1) Demosthenes' incorruptibility (Sec.Sec. 297, 298).
(2) Demosthenes' measures for the protection of Athens (Sec.Sec. 299-305).
(3) Comparison of the services of the two orators to Athens
(Sec.Sec. 306-13).
(4) Reply to the comparison of Demosthenes with the men of old,
by a final comparison of the two orators (Sec.Sec. 314-23).
(5) Peroration (Sec. 324).]
{1} I pray first, men of Athens, to every god and goddess, that the
goodwill, which I ever feel towards this city and towards all of you, may
in equal measure be vouchsafed to me by you at this present trial: and
secondly--a prayer which especially touches yourselves, your consciences,
and your reputation--that the gods may put it into your minds not to take
counsel of my adversary[n] in regard to the spirit in which you ought to
hear me (for that would surely be a cruel thing), {2} but of the laws and
of your oath; wherein besides all other precepts of justice, this also is
written--that you shall listen to both sides with a like mind. And this
means, not only that you should have formed no prejudice, and should
accord equal goodwill to each, but also that you should give leave to
every man who pleads before you to adopt that order, and make that
defence, upon which he has resolved and fixed his choice.
{3} I am in many respects at a disadvantage in the present controversy, as
compared with Aeschines; and particularly, men of Athens, in two points of
importance. The first is that I am not contending for the same stake as
he. It is not the same thing for me to lose your goodwill now, as it is
for him to fail to win his case; since for me--but I would say nothing
unpleasant [n]* at the opening of my address--I say only that Aeschines
can well afford to risk this attack upon me. The second disadvantage lies
in the natural and universal tendency of mankind to hear invective and
denunciation with pleasure, and to be offended with those who praise
themselves. {4} And of the two courses in question, that which contributes
to men's pleasure has been given to Aeschines, and that which annoys (I
may say) every one is left for me. If, to avoid giving such annoyance, I
say nothing of all that I myself have done, it will be thought that I am
unable to clear myself of the charges against me, or to show the grounds
upon which I claim to deserve distinction. If, on the other hand, I
proceed to speak of my past acts and my political life, I shall often be
compelled to speak of myself. I will endeavour, then, to do this as
modestly as possible; and for all that the necessities of the case compel
me to say, the blame must in fairness be borne by the prosecutor, who
initiated a trial of such a kind as this.
{5} I think, men of Athens, that you would all admit that this present
trial equally concerns myself and Ctesiphon, and demands no less earnest
attention from me than from him. For while it is a painful and a grievous
thing for a man to be robbed of anything, particularly if it is at the
hands of an enemy that this befalls him, it is especially so, when he is
robbed of your goodwill and kindness, just in proportion as to win these
is the greatest possible gain. {6} And because such is the issue at stake
in the present trial, I request and entreat you all alike to give me,
while I make my defence upon the charges that have been brought against
me, a fair hearing, as you are commanded to do by the laws--those laws to
which their original maker, your well-wisher and the People's friend,
Solon, thought fit to give the sanction not of enactment only, but also of
an oath on the part of those who act as judges: {7} not because he
distrusted you (so at least it seems to me), but because he saw that a
defendant cannot escape from the imputations and the slanders which fall
with special force from the prosecutor, because he is the first to speak,
unless each of you who sit in judgement, keeping his conscience pure in
the sight of God, will receive the pleadings of the later speaker also
with the same favour, and will thus, because his attention has been given
equally and impartially to both sides, form his decision upon the case in
its entirety.
{8} And now, when I am about, as it seems, to render an account of my
whole private life and public career, I would once more invoke the aid of
the gods; and in the presence of you all I pray, first, that the goodwill
which I ever feel towards this city and towards all of you, may in equal
measure be vouchsafed to me by you at this trial; and secondly, that
whatsoever judgement upon this present suit will conduce to your public
reputation, and the purity of each man's conscience, that judgement they
may put it into all your minds to give.
{9} Now if Aeschines had confined his charges to the subject of the
indictment, I too, in making my defence, would have dealt at once with the
actual resolution of the Council. But since he has devoted no less a
portion of his speech to the relation of other matters, and for the most
part has spoken against me falsely, I think it is necessary, and at the
same time just, that I should deal briefly, men of Athens, with these, in
order that none of you may be led by irrelevant arguments to listen less
favourably to my pleas in answer to the indictment itself.
{10} As for his slanderous vituperation of my private life, mark how
straightforward and how just is the reply that I make. If you know me as
the man that he charged me with being (for my life has been spent nowhere
but in your own midst), do not even suffer me to speak--no, not though my
whole public career has been one of transcendent merit--but rise and
condemn me without delay. But if, in your judgement and belief, I am a
better man than Aeschines, and come of better men; if I and mine are no
worse than any other respectable persons (to use no offensive expression);
then do not trust him even in regard to other points, for it is plain that
all that he said was equally fictitious; but once more accord to me to-day
the goodwill which throughout the past you have so often displayed towards
me in previous trials. {11} Knave as you are,[n] Aeschines, you were
assuredly more fool than knave, when you thought that I should dismiss all
that I had to say with regard to my past acts and political life, and
should turn to meet the abuse that fell from you. I shall not do so; I am
not so brain-sick; but I will review the falsehoods and the calumnies
which you uttered against my political career; and then, if the court
desires it, I will afterwards refer to the ribald language that has been
so incontinently used.
{12} The offences charged against me are many; and for some of them the
laws assign heavy and even the most extreme penalties. But I will tell you
what is the motive which animates the present suit. It gives play to the
malice of a personal enemy, to his insolence, his abuse, his contumelies,
and every expression of his hostility: and yet, assuming that the charges
and the imputations which have been made are true, it does not enable the
State[n] to exact a penalty that is adequate, or nearly adequate, to the
offences. {13} For it is not right to seek to debar another from coming
before the people[n] and receiving a hearing, nor to do so in a spirit of
malice and envy. Heaven knows, it is neither straightforward, nor citizen-
like, nor just, men of Athens! If the crimes by which he saw me injuring
the city were of such a magnitude as he just now so theatrically set
forth, he should have had recourse to the punishments enjoined by the laws
at the time of the crimes themselves. If he saw me so acting as to deserve
impeachment, he should have impeached me, and so brought me to trial
before you; if he saw me proposing illegal measures, he should have
indicted me for their illegality. For surely, if he can prosecute
Ctesiphon on my account, he would not have failed to indict me in person,
had he thought that he could convict me. {14} And further, if he saw me
committing any of those other crimes against you, which he just now
slanderously enumerated, or any other crimes whatsoever, there are laws
which deal with each, and punishments, and lawsuits and judgements
involving penalties that are harsh and severe: to all of these he could
have had recourse; and from the moment when it was seen that he had acted
so, and had conducted his hostilities against me on that plan, his present
accusation of me would have been in line with his past conduct. {15} But
as it is, he has forsaken the straight path of justice; he has shrunk from
all attempts to convict me at the time; and after all these years, with
the imputations, the jests, the invectives, that he has accumulated, he
appears to play his part. So it is, that though his accusations are
against me, it is Ctesiphon that he prosecutes; and though he sets his
quarrel with me in the forefront of the whole suit, he has never faced me
in person to settle the quarrel, and it is another whom we see him trying
to deprive of his civil rights. {16} Yet surely, besides everything else
that may be pleaded on behalf of Ctesiphon, this, I think, may surely be
most reasonably urged--that we ought in justice to have brought our own
quarrel to the test by ourselves, instead of avoiding all conflict with
one another, and looking for a third party to whom we could do harm. Such
iniquity really passes all bounds.
{17} From this one may see the nature of all his charges alike, uttered,
as they have been, without justice or regard for truth. Yet I desire also
to examine them severally, and more particularly the false statements
which he made against me in regard to the Peace and the Embassy, when he
ascribed to me[n] the things which he himself had done in conjunction with
Philocrates. And here it is necessary, men of Athens, and perhaps
appropriate,[n] that I should remind you of the state of affairs
subsisting during that period, so that you may view each group of actions
in the light of the circumstances of the time.
{18} When the Phocian war had broken out[n] (not through any action of
mine, for I had not yet entered public life), your own attitude, in the
first place, was such, that you wished for the preservation of the
Phocians, although you saw that their actions were unjustifiable; while
you would have been delighted at anything that might happen to the
Thebans, against whom you felt an indignation that was neither
unreasonable nor unfair; for they had not used their good fortune at
Leuctra with moderation. And, in the second place, the Peloponnese was all
disunited: those who detested the Spartans [n] were not strong enough to
annihilate them, and those who had previously governed with the support of
Sparta [n] were no longer able to maintain their control over their
cities; but both these and all the other states were in a condition of
indeterminate strife and confusion. {19} When Philip saw this (for it was
not hard to see), he tried, by dispensing money to the traitors whom each
state contained, to throw them all into collision and stir up one against
another; and thus, amid the blunders and perversity of others, he was
making his own preparations, and growing great to the danger of all. And
when it became clear to all that the then overbearing (but now unhappy)
Thebans, distressed by the length of the war, would be forced to fly to
you for aid,[n] Philip, to prevent this--to prevent the formation of any
union between the cities--made offers of peace to you, and of assistance
to them. {20} Now what was it that helped him, and enabled him to find in
you his almost willing dupes? It was the baseness (if that is the right
name to use), or the ignorance, or both, of the rest of the Hellenes, who,
though you were engaged in a long and continuous war, and that on behalf
of the interests of all, as has been proved by the event, never assisted
you either with money or with men, or in any other way whatsoever. And in
your just and proper indignation with them, you listened readily to
Philip. It was for these reasons, therefore, and not through any action of
mine, that the Peace which we then conceded was negotiated; and any one
who investigates the matter honestly will find that it is the crimes and
the corrupt practices of these men, in the course of the negotiations,
that are responsible for our position to-day. {21} It is in the interests
of truth that I enter into all these events with this exactitude and
thoroughness; for however strong the appearance of criminality in these
proceedings may be, it has, I imagine, nothing to do with me. The first
man to suggest or mention the Peace was Aristodemus[n] the actor; and the
person who took the matter up and moved the motion, and sold his services
for the purpose, along with Aeschines, was Philocrates of Hagnus--your
partner, Aeschines, not mine, even if you split your sides with lying;
while those who supported him, from whatever motive (for of that I say
nothing at present), were Eubulus and Cephisophon. I had no part in the
matter anywhere. {22} And yet, although the facts are such as with
absolute truth I am representing them to be, he carried his effrontery so
far as to dare to assert that I was not only responsible for the Peace,
but had also prevented the city from acting in conjunction with a general
assembly of the Hellenes in making it. What? and you--oh! how can one find
a name that can be applied to you?--when you saw me (for you were there)
preventing the city from taking this great step and forming so grand an
alliance as you just now described, did you once raise a protest or come
forward to give information and to set forth the crimes with which you now
charge me? {23} If I had covenanted with Philip for money that I would
prevent the coalition of the Hellenes, your only course was to refuse to
keep silence--to cry aloud, to protest, to reveal the fact to your fellow
countrymen. On no occasion did you do this: no such utterance of yours was
ever heard by any one. In fact there was no embassy away at the time on a
mission to any Hellenic state; the Hellenes had all long ago been tried
and found wanting;[n] and in all that he has said upon this matter there
is not a single sound word. {24} And, apart from that, his falsehoods
involve the greatest calumnies upon this city. For if you were at one and
the same time convoking the Hellenes with a view to war, and sending
ambassadors yourselves to Philip to discuss peace, it was a deed for a
Eurybatus,[n] not a task for a state or for honest men, that you were
carrying out. But that is not the case; indeed it is not. For what could
possibly have been your object in summoning them at that moment? Was it
with a view to peace? But they all had peace already. Or with a view to
war? But you were yourselves discussing peace. It is therefore evident
that neither was it I that introduced or was responsible for the Peace in
its original shape, nor is one of all the other falsehoods which he told
of me shown to be true.
{25} Again, consider the course of action which, when the city had
concluded the Peace, each of us now chose to adopt. For from this you will
know who it was that co-operated with Philip throughout, and who it was
that acted in your interest and sought the good of the city. As for me, I
proposed, as a member of the Council, that the ambassadors should sail as
quickly as possible to any district in which they should ascertain Philip
to be, and receive his oath from him. {26} But even when I had carried
this resolution, they would not act upon it. What did this mean, men of
Athens? I will inform you. Philip's interest required that the interval
before he took the oath should be as long as possible; yours, that it
should be as short as possible. And why? Because you broke off all your
preparations for the war, not merely from the day when he took the oath,
but from the day when you first hoped that Peace would be made; and for
his part, this was what he was all along working for; for he thought (and
with truth) that whatever places he could snatch from Athens before he
took the oath, would remain securely his, since no one would break the
Peace for their sake. {27} Foreseeing and calculating upon this, men of
Athens, I proposed this decree--that we should sail to any district in
which Philip might be, and receive his oath as soon as possible, in order
that the oaths might be taken while the Thracians, your allies, were still
in possession of those strongholds[n] of which Aeschines just now spoke
with contempt--Serrhium, Myrtenum, and Ergiske; and that Philip might not
snatch from us the keys of the country and make himself master of Thrace,
nor obtain an abundant supply of money and of soldiers, and so proceed
without difficulty to the prosecution of his further designs. {28} And
now, instead of citing or reading this decree he slanders me on the ground
that I thought fit, as a member of the Council, to introduce the envoys.
But what should I have done? Was I to propose _not_ to introduce those who
had come for the express purpose of speaking with you? or to order the
lessee of the theatre not to assign them seats? But they would have
watched the play from the threepenny seats,[n] if this decree had not been
proposed. Should I have guarded the interests of the city in petty
details, and sold them wholesale, as my opponents did? Surely not. (_To
the clerk_.) Now take this decree, which the prosecutor passed over,
though he knew it well, and read it.
{29} [_The decree of Demosthenes is read_.]
{30} Though I had carried this decree, and was seeking the good not of
Philip, but of the city, these worthy ambassadors paid little heed to it,
but sat idle in Macedonia for three whole months,[n] until Philip arrived
from Thrace, after subduing the whole country; when they might, within ten
days, or equally well[n] within three or four, have reached the
Hellespont, and saved the strongholds, by receiving his oath before he
could seize them. For he would not have touched them when we were present;
or else, if he had done so, we should have refused to administer the oath
to him; and in that case he would have failed to obtain the Peace: he
would not have had both the Peace and the strongholds as well.
{31} Such was Philip's first act of fraud, during the time of the Embassy,
and the first instance of venality on the part of these wicked men; and
over this I confess that then and now and always I have been and am at war
and at variance with them. Now observe, immediately after this, a second
and even greater piece of villainy. {32} As soon as Philip had sworn to
the Peace, after first gaining possession of Thrace because these men did
not obey my decree, he obtained from them--again by purchase--the
postponement of our departure from Macedonia, until all should be in
readiness for his campaign against the Phocians; in order that, instead of
our bringing home a report of his intentions and his preparations for the
march, which would make you set out and sail round to Thermopylae with
your war-ships as you did before,[n] you might only hear our report of the
facts when he was already on this side of Thermopylae, and you could do
nothing. {33} And Philip was beset with such fear and such a weight of
anxiety, lest in spite of his occupation of these places, his object
should slip from his grasp, if, before the Phocians were destroyed, you
resolved to assist them, that he hired this despicable creature, not now
in company with his colleagues, but by himself alone, to make to you a
statement and a report of such a character that owing to them all was
lost. {34} But I request and entreat you, men of Athens, to remember
throughout this whole trial, that, had Aeschines made no accusation that
was not included in the indictment, I too would not have said a word that
did not bear upon it; but since he has had recourse to all kinds of
imputation and slander at once, I am compelled also to give a brief answer
to each group of charges. {35} What then were the statements uttered by
him that day, in consequence of which all was lost? 'You must not be
perturbed,' he said, 'at Philip's having crossed to this side of
Thermopylae; for you will get everything that you desire, if you remain
quiet; and within two or three days you will hear that he has become the
friend of those whose enemy he was, and the enemy of those whose friend he
was, when he first came. For,' said he, 'it is not phrases that confirm
friendships' (a finely sententious expression!) 'but identity of interest;
and it is to the interest of Philip and of the Phocians and of yourselves
alike, to be rid of the heartless and overbearing demeanour of the
Thebans.' {36} To these statements some gave a ready ear, in consequence
of the tacit ill-feeling towards the Thebans at the time. What then
followed--and not after a long interval, but immediately? The Phocians
were overthrown; their cities were razed to the ground; you, who had
believed Aeschines and remained inactive, were soon afterwards bringing in
your effects from the country; while Aeschines received his gold; and
besides all this, the city reaped the ill-will of the Thebans and
Thessalians, while their gratitude for what had been done went to Philip.
{37} To prove that this is so, (_to the clerk_) read me both the decree of
Callisthenes,[n] and Philip's letter. (_To the jury_.) These two documents
together will make all the facts plain. (_To the clerk_.) Read.
{38} [_The decree of Callisthenes is read_.]
Were these the hopes, on the strength of which you made the Peace? Was
this what this hireling promised you? {39} (_To the clerk_.) Now read the
letter which Philip sent after this.
[_Philip's letter is read_.]
{40} You hear how obviously, in this letter sent to you, Philip is
addressing definite information to his own allies. 'I have done these
things,' he tells them, 'against the will of the Athenians, and to their
annoyance; and so, men of Thebes and Thessaly, if you are wise, you will
regard them as enemies, and will trust me.' He does not write in those
actual terms, but that is what he intends to indicate. By these means he
so carried them away, that they did not foresee or realize any of the
consequences, but allowed him to get everything into his own power: and
that is why, poor men, they have experienced their present calamities.
{41} But the man who helped him to create this confidence, who co-operated
with him, who brought home that false report and deluded you, he it is who
now bewails the sufferings of the Thebans and enlarges upon their
piteousness--he, who is himself the cause both of these and of the misery
in Phocis, and of all the other evils which the Hellenes have endured.
Yes, it is evident that you are pained at what has come to pass,
Aeschines, and that you are sorry for the Thebans, when you have property
in Boeotia[n] and are farming the land that was theirs; and that I rejoice
at it--I, whose surrender was immediately demanded by the author of the
disaster! {42} But I have digressed into subjects of which it will perhaps
be more convenient to speak presently. I will return to the proofs which
show that it is the crimes of these men that are the cause of our
condition to-day.
For when you had been deceived by Philip, through the agency of these men,
who while serving as ambassadors had sold themselves and made a report in
which there was not a word of truth--when the unhappy Phocians had been
deceived and their cities annihilated--what followed? {43} The despicable
Thessalians and the slow-witted Thebans regarded Philip as their friend,
their benefactor, their saviour. Philip was their all-in-all. They would
not even listen to the voice of any one who wished to express a different
opinion. You yourselves, though you viewed what had been done with
suspicion and vexation, nevertheless kept the Peace; for there was nothing
else that you could have done. And the other Hellenes, who, like
yourselves, had been deluded and disappointed of their hopes,[n] also kept
the Peace, and gladly;[n] since in a sense they also were remotely aimed
at by the war. {44} For when Philip was going about and subduing the
Illyrians and Triballi and some of the Hellenes as well, and bringing many
large forces into his own power, and when some of the members of the
several States were taking advantage of the Peace to travel to Macedonia,
and were being corrupted--Aeschines among them--at such a time all of
those whom Philip had in view in thus making his preparations were really
being attacked by him. {45} Whether they failed to realize it is another
question, which does not concern me. For I was continually uttering
warnings and protests, both in your midst and wherever I was sent. But the
cities were stricken with disease: those who were engaged in political and
practical affairs were taking bribes and being corrupted by the hope of
money; while the mass of private citizens either showed no foresight, or
else were caught by the bait of ease and leisure from day to day; and all
alike had fallen victims to some such delusive fancy, as that the danger
would come upon every one but themselves, and that through the perils of
others they would be able to secure their own position as they pleased.
{46} And so, I suppose, it has come to pass that the masses have atoned
for their great and ill-timed indifference by the loss of their freedom,
while the leaders in affairs, who fancied that they were selling
everything except themselves, have realized that they had sold themselves
first of all. For instead of being called friends and guest-friends, as
they were called at the time when they were taking their bribes, they now
hear themselves called flatterers, and god-forsaken, and all the other
names that they deserve. {47} For no one, men of Athens, spends his money
out of a desire to benefit the traitor; nor, when once he has secured the
object for which he bargains, does he employ the traitor to advise him
with regard to other objects: if it were so, nothing could be happier than
a traitor. But it is not so, of course. Far from it! When the aspirant
after dominion has gained his object, he is also the master of those who
have sold it to him: and because then he knows their villainy, he then
hates and mistrusts them, and covers them with insults. {48} For observe--
for even if the time of the events is past, the time for realizing truths
like these is ever present to wise men. Lasthenes[n] was called his
'friend'; but only until he had betrayed Olynthus. And Timolaus;[n] but
only until he had destroyed Thebes. And Eudicus and Simus[n] of Larissa;
but only until they had put Thessaly in Philip's power. And now,
persecuted as they are, and insulted, and subjected to every kind of
misery, the whole inhabited world has become filled with such men. And
what of Aristratus[n] at Sicyon? what of Perillus[n] at Megara? Are they
not outcasts? {49} From these instances one can see very clearly, that it
is he who best protects his own country and speaks most constantly against
such men, that secures for traitors and hirelings like yourselves,
Aeschines, the continuance of your opportunities for taking bribes. It is
the majority of those who are here, those who resist your will, that you
must thank for the fact that you live and draw your pay; for, left to
yourselves, you would long ago have perished.
{50} There is still much that I might say about the transactions of that
time, but I think that even what I have said is more than enough. The
blame rests with Aeschines, who has drenched me with the stale dregs[n] of
his own villainy and crime, from which I was compelled to clear myself in
the eyes of those who are too young to remember the events; though perhaps
you who knew, even before I said a single word, of Aeschines' service as a
hireling, may have felt some annoyance as you listened. {51} He calls it,
forsooth, 'friendship' and 'guest-friendship'; and somewhere in his speech
just now he used the expression, 'the man who casts in my teeth my guest-
friendship with Alexander.' _I_ cast in your teeth your guest-friendship
with Alexander? How did you acquire it? How came you to be thought worthy
of it? Never would I call you the guest-friend of Philip or the friend of
Alexander--I am not so insane--unless you are to call harvesters and other
hired servants the friends and guest-friends of those who have hired them.
[But that is not the case, of course. Far from it!] {52} Nay, I call you
the hireling, formerly of Philip, and now of Alexander, and so do all who
are present. If you disbelieve me, ask them--or rather I will ask them for
you. Men of Athens, do you think of Aeschines as the hireling or as the
guest-friend of Alexander? You hear what they say.
{53} I now wish, without more delay, to make my defence upon the
indictment itself, and to go through my past acts, in order that Aeschines
may hear (though he knows them well) the grounds on which I claim to have
a right both to the gifts which the Council have proposed, and even to far
greater than these. (_To the clerk_.) Now take the indictment and read it.
{54, 55} [The indictment is read.]
{56} These, men of Athens, are the points in the resolution which the
prosecutor assails; and these very points will, I think, afford me my
first means of proving to you that the defence which I am about to offer
is an absolutely fair one. For I will take the points of the indictment in
the very same order as the prosecutor: I will speak of each in succession,
and will knowingly pass over nothing. {57} Any decision upon the statement
that I 'consistently do and say what is best for the People, and am eager
to do whatever good I can', and upon the proposal to vote me thanks for
this, depends, I consider, upon my past political career: for it is by an
investigation of my career that either the truth and the propriety, or
else the falsehood, of these statements which Ctesiphon has made about me
will be discovered. {58} Again, the proposal to crown me, without the
addition of the clause 'when he has submitted to his examination', and the
order to proclaim the award of the crown in the theatre, must, I imagine,
stand or fall with my political career; for the question is whether I
deserve the crown and the proclamation before my fellow countrymen or not.
At the same time I consider myself further bound to point out to you the
laws under which the defendant's proposal could be made. In this honest
and straightforward manner, men of Athens, I have determined to make my
defence; and now I will proceed to speak of my past actions themselves.
{59} And let no one imagine that I am detaching my argument from its
connexion with the indictment, if I break into a discussion of
international transactions. For it is the prosecutor who, by assailing the
clause of the decree which states that I do and say what is best, and by
indicting it as false, has rendered the discussion of my whole political
career essentially germane to the indictment; and further, out of the many
careers which public life offers, it was the department of international
affairs that I chose; so that I have a right to derive my proofs also from
that department.
{60} I will pass over all that Philip snatched from us and secured, in the
days before I took part in public life as an orator. None of these losses,
I imagine, has anything to do with me. But I will recall to you, and will
render you an account of all that, from the day when I entered upon this
career, he was _prevented_ from taking, when I have made one remark. {61}
Philip, men of Athens, had a great advantage in his favour. For in the
midst of the Hellenic peoples--and not of some only, but of all alike--
there had sprung up a crop of traitors--corrupt, god-forsaken men--more
numerous than they have ever been within the memory of man. These he took
to help and co-operate with him; and great as the mutual ill-will and
dissensions of the Hellenes already were, he rendered them even worse, by
deceiving some, making presents to others, and corrupting others in every
way; and at a time when all had in reality but one interest--to prevent
his becoming powerful--he divided them into a number of factions. {62} All
the Hellenes then being in this condition, still ignorant of the growing
and accumulating evil, you have to ask yourselves, men of Athens, what
policy and action it was fitting for the city to choose, and to hold me
responsible for this; for the person who assumed that responsibility in
the State was myself. {63} Should she, Aeschines, have sacrificed her
pride and her own dignity? Should she have joined the ranks of the
Thessalians and Dolopes,[n] and helped Philip to acquire the empire of
Hellas, cancelling thereby the noble and righteous deeds of our
forefathers? Or, if she should not have done this (for it would have been
in very truth an atrocious thing), should she have looked on, while all
that she saw would happen, if no one prevented it--all that she realized,
it seems, at a distance--was actually taking place? {64} Nay, I should be
glad to ask to-day the severest critic of my actions, which party he would
have desired the city to join--the party which shares the responsibility
for the misery and disgrace which has fallen upon the Hellenes (the party
of the Thessalians and their supporters, one may call it), or the party
which looked on while these calamities were taking place, in the hope of
gaining some advantage for themselves--in which we should place the
Arcadians and Messenians and Argives. {65} But even of these, many--nay,
all--have in the end fared worse than we. For if Philip had departed
immediately after his victory, and gone his way; if afterwards he had
remained at peace, and had given no trouble whatever to any of his own
allies or of the other Hellenes; then there would have been some ground
for blaming and accusing those who had opposed his plans. But if he has
stripped them all alike of their dignity, their paramountcy, and their
independence--nay, even of their free constitutions,[n] wherever he could
do so--can it be denied that the policy which you adopted on my advice was
the most glorious policy possible?
{66} But I return to my former point. What was it fitting for the city to
do, Aeschines, when she saw Philip establishing for himself a despotic
sway over the Hellenes? What language should have been used, what measures
proposed, by the adviser of the people at Athens (for that it was at
Athens makes the utmost difference), when I knew that from the very first,
up to the day when I myself ascended the platform, my country had always
contended for pre-eminence, honour, and glory, and in the cause of honour,
and for the interests of all, had sacrificed more money and lives than any
other Hellenic people had spent for their private ends: {67} when I saw
that Philip himself, with whom our conflict lay, for the sake of empire
and absolute power, had had his eye knocked out, his collar-bone broken,
his hand and his leg maimed, and was ready to resign any part of his body
that Fortune chose to take from him, provided that with what remained he
might live in honour and glory? {68} And surely no one would dare to say
that it was fitting that in one bred at Pella, a place then inglorious and
insignificant, there should have grown up so lofty a spirit that he
aspired after the empire of Hellas, and conceived such a project in his
mind; but that in you, who are Athenians, and who day by day in all that
you hear and see behold the memorials of the gallantry of your
forefathers, such baseness should be found, that you would yield up your
liberty to Philip by your own deliberate offer and deed. {69} No man would
say this. One alternative remained, and that, one which you were bound to
take--that of a righteous resistance to the whole course of action by
which he was doing you injury. You acted thus from the first, quite
rightly and properly; while I helped by my proposals and advice during the
time of my political activity, and I do not deny it. But what ought I to
have done? For the time has come to ask you this, Aeschines, and to
dismiss everything else. {70} Amphipolis, Pydna, Poteidaea, Halonnesus--
all are blotted from my memory. As for Serrhium, Doriscus, the sack of
Peparethus, and all the other injuries inflicted upon the city, I renounce
all knowledge of their ever having happened--though you actually said that
_I_ involved my countrymen in hostility by talking of these things, when
the decrees which deal with them were the work of Eubulus and
Aristophon[n] and Diopeithes,[n] and not mine at all--so glibly do you
assert anything that suits your purpose! {71} But of this too I say
nothing at present. I only ask you whether Philip, who was appropriating
Euboea,[n] and establishing it as a stronghold to command Attica; who was
making an attempt upon Megara, seizing Oreus, razing the walls of
Porthmus, setting up Philistides as tyrant at Oreus and Cleitarchus at
Eretria, bringing the Hellespont into his own power, besieging Byzantium,
destroying some of the cities of Hellas, and restoring his exiled friends
to others--whether he, I say, in acting thus, was guilty of wrong,
violating the truce and breaking the Peace, or not? Was it fit that one of
the Hellenes should arise to prevent it, or not? {72} If it was not fit--
if it was fit that Hellas should become like the Mysian booty[n] in the
proverb before men's eyes, while the Athenians had life and being, then I
have lost my labour in speaking upon this theme, and the city has lost its
labour in obeying me: then let everything that has been done be counted
for a crime and a blunder, and those my own! But if it was right that one
should arise to prevent it, for whom could the task be more fitting than
for the people of Athens? That then, was the aim of _my_ policy; and when
I saw Philip reducing all mankind to servitude, I opposed him, and without
ceasing warned and exhorted you to make no surrender.
{73} But the Peace, Aeschines, was in reality broken by Philip, when he
seized the corn-ships, not by Athens. (_To the clerk_.) Bring the decrees
themselves, and the letter of Philip, and read them in order. (_To the
jury_.) For they will make it clear who is responsible, and for what.
{74} [_A decree is read_.]
{75} This decree then was proposed by Eubulus, not by me; and the next by
Aristophon; he is followed first by Hegesippus, and he by Aristophon
again, and then by Philocrates, then by Cephisophon, and then by all of
them. But I proposed no decree upon this subject. (_To the clerk_.) Read.
[_Decrees are read_.]
{76} As then I point to these decrees, so, Aeschines, do you point to a
decree of any kind, proposed by me, which makes me responsible for the
war. You cannot do so: for had you been able, there is nothing which you
would sooner have produced. Indeed, even Philip himself makes no charge
against me as regards the war, though he complains of others. (_To the
clerk_.) Read Philip's letter itself.
{77, 78} [_Philip's letter is read_.]
{79} In this letter he has nowhere mentioned the name of Demosthenes, nor
made any charge against me. Why is it then that, though he complains of
others, he has not mentioned my own actions? Because, if he had written
anything about me, he must have mentioned his own acts of wrong; for it
was these acts upon which I kept my grip, and these which I opposed. First
of all, when he was trying to steal into the Peloponnese, I proposed the
embassy to the Peloponnese;[n] then, when he was grasping at Euboea, the
embassy to Euboea;[n] then the expedition--not an embassy any more--to
Oreus,[n] and that to Eretria, when he had established tyrants in those
cities. {80} After that I dispatched all the naval expeditions, in the
course of which the Chersonese and Byzantium and all our allies were
saved. In consequence of this, the noblest rewards at the hands of those
who had benefited by your action became yours--votes of thanks, glory,
honours, crowns, gratitude; while of the victims of his aggression, those
who followed your advice at the time secured their own deliverance, and
those who neglected it had the memory of your warnings constantly in their
minds, and regarded you not merely as their well-wishers, but as men of
wisdom and prophetic insight; for all that you foretold has come to pass.
{81} And further, that Philistides would have given a large sum to retain
Oreus, and Cleitarchus to retain Eretria, and Philip himself, to be able
to count upon the use of these places against you, and to escape all
exposure of his other proceedings and all investigation, by any one in any
place, of his wrongful acts--all this is not unknown to any one, least of
all to you, Aeschines. {82} For the envoys sent at that time by
Cleitarchus and Philistides lodged at your house, when they came here, and
you acted as their patron.[n] Though the city rejected them, as enemies
whose proposals were neither just nor expedient, to you they were friends.
None of their attempts succeeded, slander me though you may, when you
assert that I say nothing when I receive money, but cry out when I spend
it. That, certainly, is not _your_ way: for you cry out with money in your
hands, and will never cease, unless those present cause you to do so by
taking away your civil rights[n] to-day. {83} Now on that occasion,
gentlemen, you crowned me for my conduct. Aristonicus proposed a decree
whose very syllables were identical with those of Ctesiphon's present
proposal; the crown was proclaimed in the theatre; and this was already
the second proclamation[n] in my honour: and yet Aeschines, though he was
there, neither opposed the decree, nor indicted the mover. (_To the
clerk_.) Take this decree also and read it.
{84} [_The decree of Aristonicus is read_.]
{85} Now is any of you aware of any discredit that attached itself to the
city owing to this decree? Did any mockery or ridicule ensue, such as
Aeschines said must follow on the present occasion, if I were crowned? But
surely when proceedings are recent and well known to all, then it is that,
if they are satisfactory, they meet with gratitude, and if they are
otherwise, with punishment. It appears, then, that on that occasion I met
with gratitude, not with blame or punishment.
{86} Thus the fact that, up to the time when these events took place, I
acted throughout as was best for the city, has been acknowledged by the
victory of my advice and my proposals in your deliberations, by the
successful execution of the measures which I proposed, and the award of
crowns in consequence of them to the city and to myself and to all, and by
your celebration of sacrifices to the gods, and processions, in
thankfulness for these blessings.
{87} When Philip had been expelled from Euboea--and while the arms which
expelled him were yours, the statesmanship and the decrees (even though
some of my opponents may split their sides) were mine--he proceeded to
look for some other stronghold from which he could threaten the city. And
seeing that we were more dependent than any other people upon imported
corn, and wishing to get our corn-trade into his power, he advanced to
Thrace. First, he requested the Byzantines, his own allies, to join him in
the war against you; and when they refused and said (with truth) that they
had not made their alliance with him for such a purpose, he erected a
stockade against the city, brought up his engines, and proceeded to
besiege it. {88} I will not ask again what you ought to have done when
this was happening; it is manifest to all. But who was it that went to the
rescue of the Byzantines, and saved them? Who was it that prevented the
Hellespont from falling into other hands at that time? It was you, men of
Athens--and when I say 'you', I mean this city. And who was it that spoke
and moved resolutions and acted for the city, and gave himself up
unsparingly to the business of the State? It was I. {89} But of the
immense benefit thus conferred upon all, you no longer need words of mine
to tell you, since you have had actual experience of it. For the war which
then ensued, apart from the glorious reputation that it brought you, kept
you supplied with the necessaries of life in greater plenty and at lower
prices than the present Peace, which these worthy men are guarding to
their country's detriment, in their hopes of something yet to be realized.
May those hopes be disappointed! May they share the fortune which you, who
wish for the best, ask of the gods, rather than cause you to share that
upon which their own choice is fixed! (_To the clerk_.) Read out to the
jury the crowns awarded to the city in consequence of her action by the
Byzantines and by the Perinthians.
{90, 91} [_The decree of the Byzantines is read_.]
{92} Read out also the crowns awarded by the peoples of the Chersonese.
[_The decree of the peoples of the Chersonese is read_.]
{93} Thus the policy which I had adopted was not only successful in saving
the Chersonese and Byzantium, in preventing the Hellespont from falling at
that time into the power of Philip, and in bringing honours to the city in
consequence, but it revealed to the whole world the noble gallantry of
Athens and the baseness of Philip. For all saw that he, the ally of the
Byzantines, was besieging them--what could be more shameful or revolting?
{94} and on the other hand, it was seen that you, who might fairly have
urged many well-founded complaints against them for their inconsiderate
conduct[n] towards you at an earlier period, not only refused to remember
your grudge and to abandon the victims of aggression, but actually
delivered them; and in consequence of this, you won glory and goodwill on
all hands. And further, though every one knows that you have crowned many
public men before now, no one can name any but myself--that is to say, any
public counsellor and orator--for whose merits the city has received a
crown.
{95} In order to prove to you, also, that the slanders which he uttered
against the Euboeans and Byzantines, as he recalled to you any ill-natured
action that they had taken towards you in the past, are disingenuous
calumnies, not only because they are false (for this, I think, you may all
be assumed to know), but also because, however true they might be, it was
still to your advantage to deal with the political situation as I have
done, I desire to describe, and that briefly, one or two of the noble
deeds which this city has done in your own time. For an individual and a
State should strive always, in their respective spheres, to fashion their
future conduct after the highest examples that their past affords. {96}
Thus, men of Athens, at a time when the Spartans were masters of land and
sea,[n] and were retaining their hold, by means of governors and
garrisons, upon the country all round Attica--Euboea, Tanagra, all
Boeotia, Megara, Aegina, Ceos, and the other islands--and when Athens
possessed neither ships nor walls, you marched forth to Haliartus, and
again, not many days later, to Corinth, though the Athenians of that day
might have borne a heavy grudge against both the Corinthians and the
Thebans for the part they had played in reference to the Deceleian War.[n]
{97} But they bore no such grudge. Far from it! And neither of these
actions, Aeschines, was taken by them to help benefactors; nor was the
prospect before them free from danger. Yet they did not on that account
sacrifice those who fled to them for help. For the sake of glory and
honour they were willing to expose themselves to the danger; and it was a
right and a noble spirit that inspired their counsels. For the life of all
men must end in death, though a man shut himself in a chamber and keep
watch; but brave men must ever set themselves to do that which is noble,
with their joyful hope for their buckler, and whatsoever God gives, must
bear it gallantly. {98} Thus did your forefathers, and thus did the elder
among yourselves: for, although the Spartans were no friends or
benefactors of yours, but had done much grievous wrong to the city, yet,
when the Thebans, after their victory at Leuctra, attempted to annihilate
them, you prevented it, not terrified by the strength or the reputation
which the Thebans then enjoyed, nor reckoning up what the men had done to
you, for whom you were to face this peril. {99} And thus, as you know, you
revealed to all the Hellenes, that whatever offences may be committed
against you, though under all other circumstances you show your resentment
of them, yet if any danger to life or freedom overtakes the transgressors,
you will bear no grudge and make no reckoning. Nor was it in these
instances only that you were thus disposed. For once more, when the
Thebans were appropriating Euboea,[n] you did not look on while it was
done; you did not call to mind the wrong which had been done to you in the
matter of Oropus[n] by Themison and Theodorus: you helped even these; and
it was then that the city for the first time had voluntary trierarchs, of
whom I was one.[n] But I will not speak of this yet. {100} And although to
save the island was itself a noble thing to do, it was a yet nobler thing
by far, that when their lives and their cities were absolutely in your
power, you gave them back, as it was right to do, to the very men who had
offended against you, and made no reckoning, when such trust had been
placed in you, of the wrongs which you had suffered. I pass by the
innumerable instances which I might still give--battles at sea,
expeditions [by land, campaigns] both long ago and now in our day; in all
of which the object of the city has been to defend the freedom and safety
of the other Hellenic peoples. {101} And so, when in all these striking
examples I had beheld the city ever ready to strive in defence of the
interests of others, what was I likely to bid her do, what action was I
likely to recommend to her, when the debate to some extent concerned her
own interests? 'Why,' you would say, 'to remember her grudge against those
who wanted deliverance, and to look for excuses for sacrificing
everything!' And who would not have been justified in putting me to death,
if I had attempted to bring shame upon the city's high traditions, though
it were only by word? The deed itself you would never have done, I know
full well; for had you desired to do it, what was there to hinder you?
Were you not free so to act? Had you not these men here to propose it?
{102} I wish now to return to the next in succession of my political acts;
and here again you must ask yourselves, what was the best thing for the
city? For, men of Athens, when I saw that your navy was breaking up, and
that, while the rich were obtaining exemption on the strength of small
payments,[n] citizens of moderate or small means were losing all that they
had; and further, that in consequence of these things the city was always
missing her opportunities; I enacted a law in accordance with which I
compelled the former--the rich--to do their duty fairly; I put an end to
the injustice done to the poor, and (what was the greatest service of all
to the State) I caused our preparations to be made in time. {103} When I
was indicted for this, I appeared before you at the ensuing trial, and was
acquitted; the prosecutor failed to obtain the necessary fraction of the
votes. But what sums do you think the leaders of the Taxation-Boards, or
those who stood second or third, offered me, to induce me, if possible,
not to enact the law, or at least to let it drop and lie under sworn
notice of prosecution?[n] They offered sums so large, men of Athens, that
I should hesitate to mention them to you. It was a natural course for them
to take. {104} For under the former laws it was possible for them to
divide their obligation between sixteen persons, paying little or nothing
themselves, and grinding down their poorer fellow citizens: while by my
law each must pay down a sum calculated in proportion to his property; and
a man came to be charged with two warships, who had previously been one of
sixteen subscribers to a single one (for they used now to call themselves
no longer captains of their ships, but subscribers). Thus there was
nothing that they were not willing to give, if only the new plan could be
brought to nothing, and they could escape being compelled to do their duty
fairly. (_To the clerk_.) {105} Now read me, first, the decree[n] in
accordance with which I had to meet the indictment; and then the lists of
those liable under the former law, and under my own, respectively. Read.
[_The decree is read_.]
{106} Now produce that noble list.
[_A list is read_.]
Now produce, for comparison with this, the list under my own law.
[_A list is read_.]
Was this, think you, but a trifling assistance which I rendered to the
poor among you? {107} Would the wealthy have spent but a trifling sum to
avoid doing their duty fairly? I am proud not only of having refused all
compromise upon the measure, not only of having been acquitted when I was
indicted, but also of having enacted a law which was beneficial, and of
having given proof of it in practice. For throughout the war the armaments
were equipped under my law, and no trierarch ever laid the suppliants'
branch[n] before you in token of grievance, nor took sanctuary at
Munychia; none was imprisoned by the Admiralty Board; no warship was
abandoned at sea and lost to the State, or left behind here as
unseaworthy. Under the former laws all these things used to happen; {108}
and the reason was that the obligation rested upon the poor, and in
consequence there were many cases of inability to discharge it. I
transferred the duties of the trierarchy from the poor to the rich; and
therefore every duty was properly fulfilled. Aye, and for this very reason
I deserve to receive praise--that I always adopted such political measures
as brought with them accessions of glory and honour and power to the city.
No measure of mine is malicious, harsh, or unprincipled; none is degrading
or unworthy of the city. The same spirit will be seen both in my domestic
and my international policy. {109} For just as in home affairs I did not
set the favour of the rich above the rights of the many, so in
international affairs I did not embrace the gifts and the friendship of
Philip, in preference to the common interests of all the Hellenes.
It still remains for me, I suppose, to speak about the proclamation, and
about my examination. {110} The statement that I acted for the best, and
that I am loyal to you throughout and eager to do you good service, I have
proved, I think, sufficiently, by what I have said. At the same time I am
passing over the most important parts of my political life and actions;
for I conceive that I ought first to render to you in their proper order
my arguments in regard to the alleged illegality itself: which done, even
if I say nothing about the rest of my political acts, I can still rely
upon that personal knowledge of them which each of you possesses.
{111} Of the arguments which the prosecutor jumbled together in utter
confusion with reference to the laws accompanying his indictment,[n] I am
quite certain that you could not follow the greater part, nor could I
understand them myself; but I will simply address you straightforwardly
upon the question of right. So far am I from claiming (as he just now
slanderously declared) to be free from the liability to render an account,
that I admit a life-long liability to account for every part of my
administration and policy. {112} But I do not admit that I am liable for
one single day--you hear me, Aeschines?--to account for what I have given
to the People as a free-will offering out of my private estate; nor is any
one else so liable, not even if he is one of the nine archons. What law is
so replete with injustice and churlishness, that when a man has made a
present out of his private property and done an act of generosity and
munificence, it deprives him of the gratitude due to him, hales him before
a court of disingenuous critics, and sets them to audit accounts of sums
which he himself has given? There is no such law. If the prosecutor
asserts that there is, let him produce it, and I will resign myself and
say no more. {113} But the law does not exist, men of Athens; this is
nothing but an informer's trick on the part of Aeschines, who, because I
was Controller of the Festival Fund when I made this donation, says,
'Ctesiphon proposed a vote of thanks to him when he was still liable to
account.' The vote of thanks was not for any of the things for which I was
liable to account; it was for my voluntary gift, and your charge is a
misrepresentation. 'Yes,' you say, 'but you were also a Commissioner of
Fortifications.' I was, and thanks were rightly accorded me on the very
ground that, instead of charging the sums which I spent, I made a present
of them. A statement of account, it is true, calls for an audit and
scrutineers; but a free gift deserves gratitude and thanks; and that is
why the defendant proposed this motion in my favour. {114} That this
principle is not merely laid down in the laws, but rooted in your national
character, I shall have no difficulty in proving by many instances.
Nausicles,[n] to begin with, has often been crowned by you, while general,
for sacrifices which he had made from his private funds. Again, when
Diotimus[n] gave the shields, and Charidemus[n] afterwards, they were
crowned. And again, Neoptolemus here, while still director of many public
works, has received honours for his voluntary gifts. It would really be too
bad, if any one who held any office must either be debarred thereby from
making a present to the State, or else, instead of receiving due gratitude,
must submit accounts of the sums given. {115} To prove the truth of my
statements, (_to the clerk_) take and read the actual decrees which were
passed in honour of these persons. Read.
{116} [_Two decrees are read_.]
{117} Each of these persons, Aeschines, was accountable as regards the
office which he held, but not as regards the services for which he was
crowned. Nor am I, therefore; for I presume that I have the same rights as
others with reference to the same matters. I made a voluntary gift. For
this I receive thanks; for I am not liable to account for what I gave. I
was holding office. True, and I have rendered an account of my official
expenditure, but not of what I gave voluntarily. Ah! but I exercised my
office iniquitously! What? and you were there, when the auditors brought
me before them, and did not accuse me?
{118} Now that the court may see that the prosecutor himself bears me
witness that I was crowned for services of which I was not liable to
render an account, (_to the clerk_) take and read the decree which was
proposed in my honour, in its entirety. (_To the jury_.) The points which
he has omitted to indict in the Council's resolution will show that the
charges which he does make are deliberate misrepresentations. (_To the
clerk_.) Read.
[_The decree is read_.]
{119} My donations then, were these, of which you have not made one the
subject of indictment. It is the reward for these, which the Council
states to be my due, that you attack. You admit that it was legal to
accept the gifts offered, and you indict as illegal the return of
gratitude for them. In Heaven's name, what must the perfect scoundrel, the
really heaven-detested, malignant being be like? Must he not be a man like
this?
{120} But as regards the proclamation in the theatre, I pass by the fact
that ten thousand persons have been thus proclaimed on ten thousand
different occasions, and that my own name has often been so proclaimed
before. But, in Heaven's name, Aeschines, are you so perverse and stupid,
that you cannot grasp the fact that the recipient of the crown feels the
same pride wherever the crown is proclaimed, and that it is for the
benefit of those who confer it that the proclamation is made in the
theatre? For those who hear are stimulated to do good service to the
State, and commend those who return gratitude for such service even more
than they commend the recipient of the crown. That is why the city has
enacted this law. (_To the clerk_.) Take the law itself and read it.
[_The law is read_.]
{121} Do you hear, Aeschines, the plain words of the law? 'Except such as
the People or the Council shall resolve so to proclaim. But let these be
proclaimed.' Why, wretched man, do you lay this dishonest charge? Why do
you invent false arguments? Why do you not take hellebore[n] to cure you?
What? Are you not ashamed to bring a case founded upon envy, not upon any
crime--to alter some of the laws, and to leave out parts of others, when
they ought surely, in justice, to be read entire to those who have sworn
to give their votes in accordance with the laws? {122} And then, while you
act in this way, you enumerate the qualities which should be found in a
friend of the People, as if you had contracted for a statue, and
discovered on receiving it that it had not the features required by the
contract; or as if a friend of the People was known by a definition, and
not by his works and his political measures! And you shout out
expressions, proper and improper, like a reveller on a cart[n]--
expressions which apply to you and your house, not to me. I will add this
also, men of Athens. {123} The difference between abuse and accusation is,
I imagine, that an accusation is founded upon crimes, for which the
penalties are assigned by law; abuse, upon such slanders as their own
character leads enemies to utter about one another. And I conceive that
our forefathers built these courts of law, not that we might assemble you
here and revile one another with improper expressions suggested by our
adversary's private life, but that we might convict any one who happens to
have committed some crime against the State. {124} Aeschines knew this as
well as I; and yet he chose to make a ribald attack instead of an
accusation. At the same time, it is not fair that he should go off without
getting as much as he gives, even in this respect; and when I have asked
him one question, I will at once proceed to the attack. Are we to call
you, Aeschines, the enemy of the State, or of myself? Of myself, of
course. What? And when you might have exacted the penalty from me, on
behalf of your fellow countrymen, according to the laws--at public
examinations, by indictment, by all other forms of trial--did you always
omit to do so? {125} And yet to-day, when I am unassailable upon every
ground--on the ground of law, of lapse of time, of the statutable
limit,[n] of the many previous trials which I have undergone upon every
charge, without having once been convicted of any crime against you to
this day--and when the city must necessarily share to a greater or smaller
degree in the glory of acts which were really acts of the people, have you
confronted me upon such an issue as this? Take care lest, while you
profess to be _my_ enemy, you prove to be the enemy of your fellow
countrymen!
{126} Since then I have shown you all what is the vote which religion and
justice demand of you, I am now obliged, it would seem, by the slanders
which he has uttered (though I am no lover of abuse) to reply to his many
falsehoods by saying just what is absolutely necessary about himself, and
showing who he is, and whence he is sprung, that he so lightly begins to
use bad language, pulling to pieces certain expressions of mine, when he
has himself used expressions which any respectable man would have shrunk
from uttering; {127} for if the accuser were Aeacus or Rhadamanthus or
Minos,[n] instead of a scandal-monger,[n] an old hand in the
marketplace,[n] a pestilent clerk, I do not believe that he would have
spoken thus, or produced such a stock of ponderous phrases, crying aloud,
as if he were acting a tragedy, 'O Earth and Sun and Virtue,'[n] and the
like; or again, invoking 'Wit and Culture, by which things noble and base
are discerned apart'--for, of course, you heard him speaking in this way.
{128} Scum of the earth! What have you or yours to do with virtue? How
should _you_ discern what is noble and what is not? Where and how did you
get your qualification to do so? What right have _you_ to mention culture
anywhere? A man of genuine culture would not only never have asserted such
a thing of himself, but would have blushed to hear another do so: and
those who, like you, fall far short of it, but are tactless enough to
claim it, succeed only in causing distress to their hearers, when they
speak--not in seeming to be what they profess.
{129} But though I am not at a loss to know what to say about you and
yours, I am at a loss to know what to mention first. Shall I tell first[n]
how your father Tromes was a slave in the house of Elpias, who kept an
elementary school near the temple of Theseus, and how he wore shackles and
a wooden halter? Or how your mother, by celebrating her daylight nuptials
in her hut near the shrine of the Hero of the Lancet,[n] was enabled to
rear you, her beautiful statue, the prince of third-rate actors? But these
things are known to all without my telling them. Shall I tell how Phormio,
the ship's piper, the slave of Dion of Phrearrii, raised her up out of
this noble profession? But, before God and every Heavenly Power, I shudder
lest in using expressions which are fitly applied to you, I may be thought
to have chosen a subject upon which it ill befits myself to speak. {130}
So I will pass this by, and will begin with the acts of his own life; for
they were not like any chance actions,[n] but such as the people curses.
For only lately--lately, do I say? only yesterday or the day before--did
he become at once an Athenian and an orator, and by the addition of two
syllables converted his father from Tromes into Atrometus, and gave his
mother the imposing name of Glaucothea,[n] when every one knows that she
used to be called Empusa[n]--a name which was obviously given her because
there was nothing that she would not do or have done to her; for how else
should she have acquired it? {131} Yet, in spite of this, you are of so
ungrateful and villainous a nature, that though, thanks to your
countrymen, you have risen from slavery to freedom, and from poverty to
wealth, far from feeling gratitude to them, you devote your political
activity to working against them as a hireling. I will pass over every
case in which there is any room for the contention that he has spoken in
the interests of the city, and will remind you of the acts which he was
manifestly proved to have done for the good of her enemies.
{132} Which of you has not heard of Antiphon,[n] who was struck off the
list of citizens,[n] and came into the city in pursuance of a promise to
Philip that he would burn the dockyards? I found him concealed in the
Peiraeus, and brought him before the Assembly; but the malignant Aeschines
shouted at the top of his voice, that it was atrocious of me, in a
democratic country, to insult a citizen who had met with misfortune, and
to go to men's houses without a decree;[n] and he obtained his release.
{133} And unless the Council of Areopagus had taken notice of the matter,
and, seeing the inopportuneness of the ignorance which you had shown, had
made a further search for the man, and arrested him, and brought him
before you again, a man of that character would have been snatched out of
your hands, and would have evaded punishment, and been sent out of the
country by this pompous orator. As it was, you tortured and executed him--
and so ought you also to have treated Aeschines. {134} The Council of
Areopagus knew the part which he had played in this affair; and for this
reason, when, owing to the same ignorance which so often leads you to
sacrifice the public interests, you elected him[n] to advocate your claims
in regard to the Temple of Delos, the Council (since you had appointed it
to assist you and entrusted it with full authority to act in the matter)
immediately rejected Aeschines as a traitor, and committed the case to
Hypereides. When the Council took this step, the members took their votes
from the altar,[n] and not one vote was given for this abominable man.
{135} To prove that what I say is true, (_to the clerk_) call the
witnesses who testify to it.
[_The witnesses are called_.]
{136} Thus when the Council rejected him from the office of advocate, and
committed the case to another, it declared at the same time that he was a
traitor, who wished you ill.
Such was one of the public appearances of this fine fellow, and such its
character--so like the acts with which he charges me, is it not? Now
recall a second. For when Philip sent Python of Byzantium,[n] and with him
envoys from all his allies, in the hope of putting the city to shame and
showing her to be in the wrong, I would not give way before the torrent of
insolent rhetoric which Python poured out upon you, but rose and
contradicted him, and would not betray the city's rights, but proved the
iniquity of Philip's actions so manifestly, that even his own allies rose
up and admitted it. But Aeschines supported Python; he gave testimony in
opposition to his country, and that testimony false.
{137} Nor was this sufficient for him; for again after this he was
detected going to meet Anaxinus[n] the spy in the house of Thrason. But
surely one who met the emissary of the enemy alone and conferred with him,
must himself have been already a born spy and an enemy of his country. To
prove the truth of what I say, (_to the clerk_) call the witnesses to
these facts.
[_The witnesses are called_.]
{138} There are still an infinite number of things which I might relate of
him; but I pass them over. For the truth is something like this. I could
still point to many instances in which he was found to be serving our
enemies during that period, and showing his spite against me. But you do
not store such things up in careful remembrance, to visit them with the
indignation which they deserve; but, following a bad custom, you have
given great freedom to any one who wishes to trip up the proposer of any
advantageous measure by dishonest charges--bartering, as you do, the
advantage of the State for the pleasure and gratification which you derive
from invective; and so it is always easier and safer to be a hireling in
the service of the enemy, than a statesman who has chosen to defend your
cause.
{139} To co-operate with Philip before we were openly at war with him was
--I call Earth and Heaven to witness--atrocious enough. How could it be
otherwise--against his own country? Nevertheless, concede him this, if you
will, concede him this. But when the corn-ships had been openly plundered,
and the Chersonese was being ravaged, and the man was on the march against
Attica; when the position of affairs was no longer in doubt, and war had
begun; what action did this malignant mouther of verses ever do for your
good? He can point to none. There is not a single decree, small or great,
with reference to the interests of the city, standing in the name of
Aeschines. If he asserts that there is, let him produce it in the time
allotted to me. But no such decree exists. In that case, however, only two
alternatives are possible: either he had no fault to find at the time with
my policy, and therefore made no proposal contrary to it; or else he was
seeking the advantage of the enemy, and therefore refrained from bringing
forward any better policy than mine.
{140} Did he then abstain from speaking, as he abstained from proposing
any motion, when any mischief was to be done? On the contrary, no one else
had a chance of speaking. But though, apparently, the city could endure
everything else, and he could do everything else unobserved, there was one
final deed which was the culmination of all that he had done before. Upon
this he expended all that multitude of words, as he went through the
decrees relating to the Amphisseans, in the hope of distorting the truth.
But the truth cannot be distorted. It is impossible. Never will you wash
away the stain of your actions there! You will not say enough for that!
{141} I call upon all the gods and goddesses who protect this land of
Attica, in the presence of you all, men of Athens; and upon Apollo of
Pytho, the paternal deity[n] of this city, and I pray to them all, that if
I should speak the truth to you--if I spoke it at that very time without
delay, in the presence of the people, when first I saw this abominable man
setting his hand to this business (for I knew it, I knew it at once),--
that then they may give me good fortune and life: but if, to gratify my
hatred or any private quarrel, I am now bringing a false accusation
against this man, then they may take from me the fruition of every
blessing.
{142} Why have I uttered this imprecation with such vehemence and
earnestness? Because, although I have documents, lying in the public
archives, by which I will prove the facts clearly; although I know that
you remember what was done; I have still the fear that he may be thought
too insignificant a man to have done all the evil which he has wrought--as
indeed happened before, when he caused the ruin of the unhappy Phocians by
the false report which he brought home. {143} For the war at Amphissa,
which was the cause of Philip's coming to Elateia, and of one being
chosen[n] commander of the Amphictyons, who overthrew the fortunes of the
Hellenes--_he_ it is who helped to get it up; he, in his sole person, is
to blame for disasters to which no equal can be found. I protested at the
time, and cried out, before the Assembly, 'You are bringing war into
Attica, Aeschines--an Amphictyonic War.' But a packed group of his
supporters refused to let me speak, while the rest were amazed, and
imagined that I was bringing a baseless charge against him, out of
personal animosity. {144} But what the true nature of these proceedings
was, men of Athens--why this plan was contrived, and how it was executed--
you must hear from me to-day, since you were prevented from doing so at
the time. You will behold a business cunningly organized; you will advance
greatly in your knowledge of public affairs; and you will see what
cleverness there was in Philip.
{145} Philip had no prospect of seeing the end of the war with you, or
ridding himself of it, unless he could make the Thebans and Thessalians
enemies of Athens. For although the war was being wretchedly and
inefficiently conducted by your generals, he was nevertheless suffering
infinite damage from the war itself and from the freebooters. The
exportation of the produce of his country and the importation of what he
needed were both impossible. {146} Moreover, he was not at that time
superior to you at sea, nor could he reach Attica, if the Thessalians
would not follow him, or the Thebans give him a passage through their
country; and although he was overcoming in the field the generals whom you
sent out, such as they were (for of this I say nothing), he found himself
suffering from the geographical conditions themselves, and from the nature
of the resources[n] which either side possessed. {147} Now if he tried to
encourage either the Thessalians or the Thebans to march against you in
order to further his own quarrel, no one, he thought, would pay any
attention to him; but if he adopted their own common grounds of action and
were chosen commander, he hoped to find it easier to deceive or to
persuade them, as the case might be. What then does he do? He attempts
(and observe with what skill) to stir up an Amphictyonic War, and a
disturbance in connexion with the meeting of the Council. {148} For he
thought that they would at once find that they needed his help, to deal
with these. Now if one of his own or his allies' representatives on the
Council[n] brought the matter forward, he thought that both the Thebans
and the Thessalians would regard the proceeding with suspicion, and that
all would be on their guard: but if it was an Athenian, sent by you, his
adversaries, that did so, he would easily escape detection--as, in fact,
happened. {149}* How then did he manage this? He hired Aeschines. No one,
I suppose, either realized beforehand what was going on or guarded against
it--that is how such affairs are usually conducted here; Aeschines was
nominated a delegate to the Council; three or four people held up their
hands for him, and he was declared elected. But when, bearing with him the
prestige of this city, he reached the Amphictyons, he dismissed and closed
his eyes to all other considerations, and proceeded to perform the task
for which he had been hired. He composed and recited a story, in
attractive language, of the way in which the Cirrhaean territory had come
to be dedicated; {150} and with this he persuaded the members of the
Council, who were unused to rhetoric and did not foresee what was about to
happen, that they should resolve to make the circuit of the territory,[n]
which the Amphisseans said they were cultivating because it was their own,
while he alleged that it was part of the consecrated land. The Locrians
were not bringing any suit against us, or taking any such action as (in
order to justify himself) he now falsely alleges. You may know this from
the following consideration. It was clearly impossible[n] for the Locrians
to bring a suit against Athens to an actual issue, without summoning us.
Who then served the summons upon us? Before what authority was it served?
Tell us who knows: point to him. You cannot do so. It was a hollow and a
false pretext of which you thus made a wrongful use. {151} While the
Amphictyons were making the circuit of the territory in accordance with
Aeschines' suggestion, the Locrians fell upon them and came near to
shooting them all down with their spears; some of the members of the
Council they even carried off with them. And now that complaints and
hostilities had been stirred up against the Amphisseans, in consequence of
these proceedings, the command was first held by Cottyphus, and his force
was drawn from the Amphictyonic Powers alone. But since some did not come,
and those who came did nothing, the men who had been suborned for the
purpose--villains of long standing, chosen from the Thessalians and from
the traitors in other States--took steps with a view to entrusting the
affair to Philip, as commander, at the next meeting of the Council. {152}
They had adopted arguments of a persuasive kind. Either, they said, the
Amphictyons must themselves contribute funds, maintain mercenaries, and
fine those who refused to do so; or they must elect Philip. To make a long
story short, the result was that Philip was appointed. And immediately
afterwards, having collected a force and crossed the Pass, ostensibly on
his way to the territory of Cirrha, he bids a long farewell to the
Cirrhaeans and Locrians, and seizes Elateia. {153} Now if the Thebans had
not changed their policy at once, upon seeing this, and joined us, the
trouble would have descended upon the city in full force, like a torrent
in winter. As it was, the Thebans checked him for the moment; chiefly, men
of Athens, through the goodwill of some Heavenly Power towards us; but
secondarily, so far as it lay in one man's power, through me also. (_To
the clerk_.) Now give me the decrees in question, and the dates of each
proceeding; (_to the jury_) that you may know what trouble this abominable
creature stirred up, unpunished. (_To the clerk_.) Read me the decrees.
{154} [_The decrees of the Amphictyons are read_.]
{155} (_To the clerk_.) Now read the dates of these proceedings. (_To the
jury_.) They are the dates at which Aeschines was delegate to the Council.
(_To the clerk_.) Read.
[_The dates are read_.]
{156} Now give me the letter which Philip sent to his allies in the
Peloponnese, when the Thebans failed to obey his summons. For from this,
too, you may clearly see that he concealed the real reason for his
action--the fact that he was taking measures against Hellas and the
Thebans and yourselves--and pretended to represent the common cause and
the will of the Amphictyons. And the man who provided him with all these
occasions and pretexts was Aeschines. (_To the clerk_.) Read.
{157} [_Philip's letter is read_.]
{158} You see that he avoids the mention of his own reasons for action,
and takes refuge in those provided by the Amphictyons. Who was it that
helped him to prepare such a case? Who put such pretexts at his disposal?
Who is most to blame for the disasters that have taken place? Is it not
Aeschines? And so, men of Athens, you must not go about saying that Hellas
has suffered such things as these at the hands of one man.[n] I call Earth
and Heaven to witness, that it was at the hands, not of one man, but of
many villains in each State. {159} And of these Aeschines is one; and, had
I to speak the truth without any reserve, I should not hesitate to
describe him as the incarnate curse of all alike--men, regions or cities--
that have been ruined since then. For he who supplied the seed is
responsible for the crop. I wonder that you did not turn away your eyes at
the very sight of him: but a cloud of darkness seems to hang between you
and the truth.
{160} I find that in dealing with the measures taken by Aeschines for the
injury of his country, I have reached the time when I must speak of my own
statesmanship in opposition to these measures; and it is fair that you
should listen to this, for many reasons, but above all because it will be
a shameful thing, if, when I have faced the actual realities of hard work
for you, you will not even suffer the story of them to be told. {161} For
when I saw the Thebans, and (I may almost say) yourselves as well, being
led by the corrupt partisans of Philip in either State to overlook,
without taking a single precaution against it, the thing which was really
dangerous to both peoples and needed their utmost watchfulness--the
unhindered growth of Philip's power; while, on the contrary, you were
quite ready to entertain ill-feeling and to quarrel with one another; I
kept unceasing watch to prevent this. Nor did I rely only on my own
judgement in thinking that this was what your interest required. {162} I
knew that Aristophon, and afterwards Eubulus, always wished to bring about
this friendly union, and that, often as they opposed one another in other
matters, they always agreed in this. Cunning fox! While they lived, you
hung about them and flattered them; yet now that they are dead, you do not
see that you are attacking them. For your censure of my policy in regard
to Thebes is far more a denunciation of them than of me, since they were
before me in approving of that alliance. {163} But I return to my previous
point--that it was when Aeschines had brought about the war at Amphissa,
and the others, his accomplices, had effectually helped him to create the
ill-feeling against the Thebans, that Philip marched against us. For it
was to render this possible that their attempt to throw the two cities
into collision was made; and had we not roused ourselves a little before
it was too late, we should never have been able to regain the lost ground;
to such a length had these men carried matters. What the relations between
the two peoples already were, you will know when you have heard these
decrees and replies. (_To the clerk_.) Take these and read them.
{164, 165} [_The decrees are read_.]
{166} (_To the clerk_.) Now read the replies.
{167} [_The replies are read_.]
{168} Having established such relations between the cities, through the
agency of these men, and being elated by these decrees and replies, Philip
came with his army and seized Elateia, thinking that under no
circumstances whatever should we and the Thebans join in unison after
this. And though the commotion which followed in the city is known to you
all, let me relate to you briefly just the bare facts.
{169} It was evening, and one had come to the Prytanes[n] with the news
that Elateia had been taken. Upon this they rose up from supper without
delay; some of them drove the occupants out of the booths in the market-
place and set fire to the wicker-work;[n] others sent for the generals and
summoned the trumpeter; and the city was full of commotion. On the morrow,
at break of day, the Prytanes summoned the Council to the Council-Chamber,
while you made your way to the Assembly; and before the Council had
transacted its business and passed its draft-resolution,[n] the whole
people was seated on the hill-side.[n] {170} And now, when the Council had
arrived, and the Prytanes had reported the intelligence which they had
received, and had brought forward the messenger, and he had made his
statement, the herald proceeded to ask, 'Who wishes to speak?' But no one
came forward; and though the herald repeated the question many times,
still no one rose, though all the generals were present, and all the
orators, and the voice of their country was calling for some one to speak
for her deliverance. For the voice of the herald, uttered in accordance
with the laws, is rightly to be regarded as the common voice of our
country. {171} And yet, if it was for those to come forward who wished for
the deliverance of the city, all of you and all the other Athenians would
have risen, and proceeded to the platform, for I am certain that you all
wished for her deliverance. If it was for the wealthiest, the Three
Hundred[n] would have risen; and if it was for those who had both these
qualifications--loyalty to the city and wealth--then those would have
risen, who subsequently made those large donations; for it was loyalty and
wealth that led them so to do. {172} But that crisis and that day called,
it seems, not merely for a man of loyalty and wealth, but for one who had
also followed the course of events closely from the first, and had come to
a true conclusion as to the motive and the aim with which Philip was
acting as he was. For no one who was unacquainted with these, and had not
scrutinized them from an early period, was any the more likely, for all
his loyalty and wealth, to know what should be done, or to be able to
advise you. {173} The man who was needed was found that day in me. I came
forward and addressed you in words which I ask you to listen to with
attention, for two reasons--first, because I would have you realize that I
was the only orator or politician who did not desert his post as a loyal
citizen in the hour of danger, but was found there, speaking and proposing
what your need required, in the midst of the terror; and secondly, because
by the expenditure of a small amount of time, you will be far better
qualified for the future in the whole art of political administration.
{174} My words then were these: 'Those who are unduly disturbed by the
idea that Philip can count upon the support of Thebes do not, I think,
understand the present situation. For I am quite sure that, if this were
so, we should have heard of his being, not at Elateia, but on our own
borders. At the same time, I understand quite well, that he has come to
prepare the way for himself at Thebes. {175} Listen,' I said, 'while I
tell you the true state of affairs. Philip already has at his disposal all
the Thebans whom he could win over either by bribery or by deception; and
those who have resisted him from the first and are opposing him now, he
has no chance of winning. What then is his design and object in seizing
Elateia? He wishes, by making a display of force in their neighbourhood
and bringing up his army, to encourage and embolden his own friends, and
to strike terror into his enemies, that so they may either concede out of
terror what they now refuse, or may be compelled. {176} Now,' I said, 'if
we make up our minds at the present moment to remember any ill-natured
action which the Thebans may have done us, and to distrust them on the
assumption that they are on the side of our enemies, we shall be doing, in
the first place, just what Philip would pray for: and further, I am afraid
that his present opponents may then welcome him, that all may
philippize[n] with one consent, and that he and they may march to Attica
together. If, however, you follow my advice, and give your minds to the
problem before us, instead of to contentious criticism of anything that I
may say, I believe that I shall be able to win your approval for my
proposals, and to dispel the danger which threatens the city. {177} What
then must you do? You must first moderate your present alarm, and then
change your attitude, and be alarmed, all of you, for the Thebans. They
are far more within the reach of disaster than we: it is they whom the
danger threatens first. Secondly, those who are of military age, with the
cavalry, must march to Eleusis,[n] and let every one see that you
yourselves are in arms; in order that those who sympathize with you in
Thebes may be enabled to speak in defence of the right, with the same
freedom that their opponents enjoy, when they see that, just as those who
are trying to sell their country to Philip have a force ready to help them
at Elateia, so those who would struggle for freedom have you ready at hand
to help them, and to go to their aid, if any one attacks them. {178} Next
I bid you elect ten envoys, and give them full authority, with the
generals, to decide the time of their own journey to Thebes, and to order
the march of the troops. But when the envoys arrive in Thebes, how do I
advise that they should handle the matter? I ask your special attention to
this. They must require nothing of the Thebans--to do so at such a moment
would be shameful; but they must undertake that we will go to their aid,
if they bid us do so, on the ground that they are in extreme peril, and
that we foresee the future better than they; in order that, if they accept
our offer and take our advice, we may have secured our object, and our
action may wear an aspect worthy of this city; or, if after all we are
unsuccessful, the Thebans may have themselves to blame for any mistakes
which they now make, while we shall have done nothing disgraceful or
ignoble.' {179} When I had spoken these words, and others in the same
strain, I left the platform. All joined in commending these proposals; no
one said a word in opposition; and I did not speak thus, and then fail to
move a motion; nor move a motion, and then fail to serve as envoy; nor
serve as envoy, and then fail to persuade the Thebans. I carried the
matter through in person from beginning to end, and gave myself up
unreservedly to meet the dangers which encompassed the city. (_To the
clerk_.) Bring me the resolution which was then passed.
{180} But now, Aeschines, how would you have me describe your part, and
how mine, that day? Shall I call myself, as you would call me by way of
abuse and disparagement, _Battalus_?[n] and you, no ordinary hero even,
but a real stage-hero, _Cresphontes_ or _Creon_,[n] or--the character
which you cruelly murdered at Collytus[n]--_Oenomaus_? Then I, Battalus of
Paeania, proved myself of more value to my country in that crisis than
Oenomaus of Cothocidae. In fact you were of no service on any occasion,
while I played the part which became a good citizen throughout. (_To the
clerk_.) Read this decree.
{181-7} [_The decree of Demosthenes is read_.]
{188} This was the first step towards our new relations with Thebes, and
the beginning of a settlement. Up to this time the cities had been
inveigled into mutual hostility, hatred, and mistrust by these men. But
this decree caused the peril that encompassed the city to pass away like a
cloud. It was for an honest citizen, if he had any better plan than mine,
to make it public at the time, instead of attacking me now. {189} The true
counsellor and the dishonest accuser, unlike as they are in everything,
differ most of all in this: the one declares his opinion before the event,
and freely surrenders himself as responsible, to those who follow his
advice, to Fortune, to circumstances, to any one.[n] The other is silent
when he ought to speak, and then carps at anything untoward that may
happen. {190} That crisis, as I have said, was the opportunity for a man
who cared for his country, the opportunity for honest speaking. But so
much further than I need will I go, that if any one can _now_ point to any
better course--or any course at all except that which I chose--I admit my
guilt. If any one has discovered any course to-day, which would have been
for our advantage, had we followed it at the time, I admit that it ought
not to have escaped me. But if there neither is nor was such a
possibility; if even now, even to-day, no one can mention any such course,
what was the counsellor of the people to do? Had he not to choose the best
of the plans which suggested themselves and were feasible? {191} This I
did. For the herald asked the question, Aeschines, 'Who wishes to speak?'
not 'Who wishes to bring accusations about the past?' nor 'Who wishes to
guarantee the future?' And while you sat speechless in the Assembly
throughout that period, I came forward and spoke. Since, however, you did
not do so then, at least inform us now, and tell us what words, which
should have been upon my lips, were left unspoken, what precious
opportunity, offered to the city, was left unused, by me? What alliance
was there, what course of action, to which I ought, by preference, to have
guided my countrymen?
{192} But with all mankind the past is always dismissed from
consideration, and no one under any circumstances proposes to deliberate
about it. It is the future or the present that make their call upon a
statesman's duty. Now at that time the danger was partly in the future,
and partly already present; and instead of cavilling disingenuously at the
results, consider the principle of my policy under such circumstances. For
in everything the final issue falls out as Heaven wills; but the principle
which he follows itself reveals the mind of the statesman. {193} Do not,
therefore, count it a crime on my part, that Philip proved victorious in
the battle. The issue of that event lay with God, not with me. But show me
that I did not adopt every expedient that was possible, so far as human
reason could calculate; that I did not carry out my plan honestly and
diligently, with exertions greater than my strength could bear; or that
the policy which I initiated was not honourable, and worthy of Athens, and
indeed necessary: and then denounce me, but not before. {194} But if the
thunderbolt [or the storm] which fell has proved too mighty, not only for
us, but for all the other Hellenes, what are we to do? It is as though a
ship-owner, who had done all that he could to ensure safety, and had
equipped the ship with all that he thought would enable her to escape
destruction, and had then met with a tempest in which the tackling had
been strained or even broken to pieces, were to be held responsible for
the wreck of the vessel. 'Why,' he would say, 'I was not steering the
ship'--just as I was not the general[n]--'I had no power over Fortune: she
had power over everything.' But consider and observe this point. {195} If
it was fated that we should fare as we did, even when we had the Thebans
to help us in the struggle, what must we have expected, if we had not had
even them for our allies, but they had joined Philip?--and this was the
object for which Philip employed[n] every tone that he could command. And
if, when the battle took place, as it did, three days' march from Attica,
the city was encompassed by such peril and terror, what should we have had
to expect, if this same disaster had occurred anywhere within the borders
of our own country? Do you realize that, as it was, a single day, and a
second, and a third gave us the power to rally, to collect our forces, to
take breath, to do much that made for the deliverance of the city: but
that had it been otherwise--it is not well, however, to speak of things
which we have not had to experience, thanks to the goodwill of one of the
gods, and to the protection which the city obtained for herself in this
alliance, which you denounce.
{196} The whole of this long argument, gentlemen of the jury, is addressed
to yourselves and to the circle of listeners outside the bar; for to this
despicable man it would have been enough to address a short, plain
sentence. If to you alone, Aeschines, the future was clear, before it
came, you should have given warning, when the city was deliberating upon
the subject; but if you had no such foreknowledge, you have the same
ignorance to answer for as others. Why then should you make these charges
against me, any more than I against you? {197} For I have been a better
citizen than you with regard to this very matter of which I am speaking--I
am not as yet talking of anything else--just in so far as I gave myself up
to the policy which all thought expedient, neither shrinking from nor
regarding any personal risk; while you neither offered any better
proposals than mine (for then they would not have followed mine), nor yet
made yourself useful in advancing mine in any way. What the most worthless
of men, the bitterest enemy of the city, would do, you are found to have
done, when all was over; and at the same time as the irreconcilable
enemies of the city, Aristratus in Naxos, and Aristoleos in Thasos, are
bringing the friends of Athens to trial, Aeschines, in Athens itself, is
accusing Demosthenes. {198} But surely one who treasured up[n] the
misfortunes of the Hellenes, that he might win glory from them for
himself, deserved to perish rather than to stand as the accuser of
another; and one who has profited by the very same crisis as the enemies
of the city cannot possibly be loyal to his country. You prove it,
moreover, by the life you live, the actions you do, the measures you take
--and the measures, too, that you do not take. Is anything being done
which seems advantageous to the city? Aeschines is speechless. Has any
obstruction, any untoward event occurred? There you find Aeschines, like a
rupture or a sprain, which wakes into life, so soon as any trouble
overtakes the body.
{199} But since he bears so hardly upon the results, I desire to say what
may even be a paradox; and let no one, in the name of Heaven, be amazed at
the length to which I go, but give a kindly consideration to what I say.
Even if what was to come was plain to all beforehand; even if all foreknew
it; even if you, Aeschines, had been crying with a loud voice in warning
and protestation--you who uttered not so much as a sound; even then, I
say, it was not right for the city to abandon her course, if she had any
regard for her fame, or for our forefathers, or for the ages to come.
{200} As it is, she is thought, no doubt, to have failed to secure her
object--as happens to all alike, whenever God wills it: but then, by
abandoning in favour of Philip her claim to take the lead of others, she
must have incurred the blame of having betrayed them all. Had she
surrendered without a struggle those claims in defence of which our
forefathers faced every imaginable peril, who would not have cast scorn
upon you, Aeschines--upon you, I say; not, I trust, upon Athens nor upon
me? {201} In God's name, with what faces should we have looked upon those
who came to visit the city, if events had come round to the same
conclusion as they now have--if Philip had been chosen as commander and
lord of all, and we had stood apart, while others carried on the struggle
to prevent these things; and that, although the city had never yet in time
past preferred an inglorious security to the hazardous vindication of a
noble cause? {202} What Hellene, what foreigner, does not know, that the
Thebans, and the Spartans, who were powerful still earlier, and the
Persian king would all gratefully and gladly have allowed Athens to take
what she liked and keep all that was her own, if she would do the bidding
of another, and let another take the first place in Hellas? {203} But this
was not, it appears, the tradition of the Athenians; it was not tolerable;
it was not in their nature. From the beginning of time no one had ever yet
succeeded in persuading the city to throw in her lot with those who were
strong, but unrighteous in their dealings, and to enjoy the security of
servitude. Throughout all time she has maintained her perilous struggle
for pre-eminence, honour, and glory. {204} And this policy you look upon
as so lofty, so proper to your own national character, that, of your
forefathers also, it is those who have acted thus that you praise most
highly. And naturally. For who would not admire the courage of those men,
who did not fear to leave their land[n] and their city, and to embark upon
their ships, that they might not do the bidding of another; who chose for
their general Themistocles (who had counselled them thus), and stoned
Cyrsilus to death, when he gave his voice for submission to a master's
orders--and not him alone, for your wives stoned his wife also to death.
{205} For the Athenians of that day did not look for an orator or a
general who would enable them to live in happy servitude; they cared not
to live at all, unless they might live in freedom. For every one of them
felt that he had come into being, not for his father and his mother alone,
but also for his country. And wherein lies the difference? He who thinks
he was born for his parents alone awaits the death which destiny assigns
him in the course of nature: but he who thinks he was born for his country
also will be willing to die, that he may not see her in bondage, and will
look upon the outrages and the indignities that he must needs bear in a
city that is in bondage as more to be dreaded than death.
{206} Now were I attempting to argue that _I_ had induced you to show a
spirit worthy of your forefathers, there is not a man who might not rebuke
me with good reason. But in fact, I am declaring that such principles as
these are your own; I am showing that _before_ my time the city displayed
this spirit, though I claim that I, too, have had some share, as your
servant, in carrying out your policy in detail. {207} But in denouncing
the policy as a whole, in bidding you be harsh with me, as one who has
brought terrors and dangers upon the city, the prosecutor, in his
eagerness to deprive me of my distinction at the present moment, is trying
to rob you of praises that will last throughout all time. For if you
condemn the defendant on the ground that my policy was not for the best,
men will think that your own judgement has been wrong, and that it was not
through the unkindness of fortune that you suffered what befell you. {208}
But it cannot,[n] it cannot be that you were wrong, men of Athens, when
you took upon you the struggle for freedom and deliverance. No! by those
who at Marathon bore the brunt of the peril--our forefathers. No! by those
who at Plataeae drew up their battle-line, by those who at Salamis, by
those who off Artemisium fought the fight at sea, by the many who lie in
the sepulchres where the People laid them, brave men, all alike deemed
worthy by their country, Aeschines, of the same honour and the same
obsequies--not the successful or the victorious alone! And she acted
justly. For all these have done that which it was the duty of brave men to
do; but their fortune has been that which Heaven assigned to each. {209}
Accursed, poring pedant![n] if you, in your anxiety to deprive me of the
honour and the kindness shown to me by my countrymen, recounted trophies
and battles and deeds of long ago--and of which of them did this present
trial demand the mention?--what spirit was I to take upon me, when I
mounted the platform, I who came forward to advise the city how she should
maintain her pre-eminence? Tell me, third-rate actor! The spirit of one
who would propose things unworthy of this people? {210} I should indeed
have deserved to die! For you too, men of Athens, ought not to judge
private suits and public in the same spirit. The business transactions of
everyday life must be viewed in the light of the special law and practice
associated with each; but the public policy of statesmen must be judged by
the principles that your forefathers set before them. And if you believe
that you should act worthily of them, then, whenever you come into court
to try a public suit, each of you must imagine that with his staff[n] and
his ticket there is entrusted to him also the spirit of his country.
{211} But I have entered upon the subject of your forefathers'
achievements, and have passed over certain decrees and transactions. I
desire, therefore, to return to the point from which I digressed.
When we came to Thebes, we found envoys there from Philip, and from the
Thessalians and his other allies--our friends in terror, his full of
confidence. And to show you that I am not saying this now to suit my own
purpose, read the letter which we, your envoys, dispatched without delay.
{212} The prosecutor, however, has exercised the art of misrepresentation
to so extravagant a degree, that he attributes to circumstances, not to
me, any satisfactory result that was achieved; but for everything that
fell out otherwise, he lays the blame upon me and the fortune that attends
me. In his eyes, apparently, I, the counsellor and orator, have no share
in the credit for what was accomplished as the result of oratory and
debate; while I must bear the blame alone for the misfortunes which we
suffered in arms, and as a result of generalship. What more brutal, more
damnable misrepresentation can be conceived? (_To the clerk_.) Read the
letter.
[_The letter is read_.]
{213} When they had convened the Assembly, they gave audience to the other
side first, on the ground that they occupied the position of allies; and
these came forward and delivered harangues full of the praises of Philip
and of accusations against yourselves, recalling everything that you had
ever done in opposition to the Thebans. The sum of it all was that they
required the Thebans to show their gratitude for the benefits which they
had received from Philip, and to exact the penalty for the injuries they
had received from you, in whichever way they preferred--either by letting
them march through their country against you, or by joining them in the
invasion of Attica; and they showed (as they thought) that the result of
the course which they advised would be that the herds and slaves and other
valuables of Attica would find their way into Boeotia; while the result of
what (as they alleged) you were about to propose would be that those of
Boeotia would be plundered in consequence of the war. {214} They said much
more, but all tending to the same effect. As for our reply, I would give
my whole life to tell it you in detail; but I fear lest, now that those
times have gone by, you may feel as if a very deluge[n] had overwhelmed
all, and may regard anything that is said on the subject as vanity and
vexation. But hear at least what we persuaded them to do, and their answer
to us. (_To the clerk_.) Take this and read it.
[_The answer of the Thebans is read_.]
{215} After this they invited and summoned you; you marched; you went to
their aid; and (to pass over the events which intervened) they received
you in so friendly a spirit that while their infantry and cavalry were
encamped outside the walls,[n] they welcomed your troops into their
houses, within the city, among their children and wives, and all that was
most precious to them. Three eulogies did the Thebans pronounce upon you
before the world that day, and those of the most honourable kind--the
first upon your courage, the second upon your righteousness, the third
upon your self-control. For when they chose to side with you in the
struggle, rather than against you, they judged that your courage was
greater, and your requests more righteous, than Philip's; and when they
placed in your power what they and all men guard most jealously, their
children and wives, they showed their confidence in your self-control.
{216} In all these points, men of Athens, your conduct proved that their
judgement had been correct. For the force came into the city; but no one
made a single complaint--not even an unfounded complaint--against you; so
virtuously did you conduct yourselves. And twice you fought by their side,
in the earliest battles-the battle by the river[n] and the winter-
battle[n]--and showed yourselves, not only irreproachable, but even
admirable, in your discipline, your equipment, and your enthusiasm. These
things called forth expressions of thanks to you from other states, and
sacrifices and processions to the gods from yourselves. {217} And I should
like to ask Aeschines whether, when all this was happening, and the city
was full of pride and joy and thanksgiving, he joined in the sacrifices
and the rejoicing of the multitude, or whether he sat at home grieving and
groaning and angry at the good fortune of his country. If he was present,
and was seen in his place with the rest, surely his present action is
atrocious--nay, even impious--when he asks you, who have taken an oath by
the gods, to vote to-day that those very things were not excellent, of
whose excellence he himself on that day made the gods his witnesses. If he
was not present, then surely he deserves to die many times, for grieving
at the sight of the things which brought rejoicing to others. (_To the
clerk_.) Now read these decrees also.
[_The decrees ordering sacrifices are read_.]
{218} Thus we were occupied at that time with sacrifices, while the
Thebans were reflecting how they had been saved by our help; and those
who, in consequence of my opponents' proceedings, had expected that they
would themselves stand in need of help, found themselves, after all,
helping others, in consequence of the action they took upon my advice. But
what the tone of Philip's utterance was, and how greatly he was confounded
by what had happened, you can learn from his letter, which he sent to the
Peloponnese. (_To the clerk_.) Take these and read them: (_to the jury_)
that you may know what was effected by my perseverance, by my travels, by
the hardships I endured, by all those decrees of which Aeschines spoke so
disparagingly just now.
{219} You have had, as you know, many great and famous orators, men of
Athens, before my time--Callistratus himself, Aristophon, Cephalus,
Thrasybulus, and a vast number of others. Yet not one of these ever gave
himself up entirely to the State for any purpose: the mover of a decree
would not serve as ambassador, the ambassador would not move the decree.
Each left himself, at one and the same time, some respite from work, and
somewhere to lay the blame,[n] in case of accidents. {220} 'Well,' some
one may say, 'did _you_ so excel them in force and boldness, as to do
everything yourself?' I do not say that. But so strong was my conviction
of the seriousness of the danger that had overtaken the city, that I felt
that I ought not to give my personal safety any place whatever in my
thoughts; it was enough for a man to do his duty and to leave nothing
undone. {221} And I was convinced with regard to myself--foolishly
perhaps, but still convinced--that no mover would make a better proposal,
no agent would execute it better, no ambassador would be more eager or
more honest in his mission, than I. For these reasons, I assigned every
one of these offices to myself. (_To the clerk_.) Read Philip's letters.
[_Philip's letters are read_.]
{222} To this condition, Aeschines, was Philip reduced by my
statesmanship. This was the tone of his utterances, though before this he
used to threaten the city with many a bold word. For this I was deservedly
crowned by those here assembled, and though you were present, you offered
no opposition; while Diondas, who indicted the proposer, did not obtain
the necessary fraction of the votes. (_To the clerk_.) Read me these
decrees, (_to the jury)_ which escaped condemnation, and which Aeschines
did not even indict.
[_The decrees are read_.]
{223} These decrees, men of Athens, contain the very same syllables, the
very same words, as those which Aristonicus previously employed in his
proposal, and which Ctesiphon, the defendant, has employed now; and
Aeschines neither prosecuted the proposer of them himself, nor supported
the person who indicted him. Yet surely, if the charges which he is
bringing against me to-day are true, he would have had better reason then
for prosecuting Demomeles (the proposer of the decree) and Hypereides,
than he has for prosecuting Ctesiphon. And why? {224} Because Ctesiphon
can refer you to them--to the decision of the courts, to the fact that
Aeschines himself did not accuse them, though they had moved exactly what
he has moved now, to the prohibition by law of further prosecution in such
cases, and to many other facts: whereas then the case would have been
tried on its merits, before the defendant had got the advantage of any
such precedent. {225} But of course it was impossible then for Aeschines
to act as he has acted now--to select out of many periods of time long
past, and many decrees, matters which no one either knew or thought would
be mentioned to-day; to misrepresent them, to change the dates, to put
false reasons for the actions taken in place of the true, and so appear to
have a case. {226} At the time this was impossible. Every word spoken then
must have been spoken with the truth in view, at no distance of time from
the events, while you still remembered all the facts and had them
practically at your fingers' ends. For that reason he evaded all
investigation at the time; and he has come before you now, in the belief
(I fancy) that you will make this a contest of oratory, instead of an
inquiry into our political careers, and that it is upon our eloquence, not
upon the interests of the city, that you will decide.
{227} Yes, and he ingeniously suggests that you ought to disregard the
opinion which you had of each of us when you left your homes and came into
court; and that just as, when you draw up an account in the belief that
some one has a balance, you nevertheless give way when you find that the
counters all disappear[n] and leave nothing over, so now you should give
your adhesion to the conclusion which emerges from the argument. Now
observe how inherently rotten everything that springs from dishonesty
seems to be. {228} By his very use of this ingenious illustration he has
confessed that to-day, at all events, our respective characters are well
established--that I am known to speak for my country's good, and he to
speak for Philip. For unless that were your present conception of each of
us, he would not have sought to change your view. {229} And further, I
shall easily show you that it is not fair of him to ask you to alter this
opinion--not by the use of counters--that is not how a political reckoning
is made--but by briefly recalling each point to you, and treating you who
hear me both as auditors of my account and witnesses to the facts. For
that policy of mine which he denounces caused the Thebans, instead of
joining Philip, as all expected them to do, in the invasion of our
country, to range themselves by our side and stay his progress. {230} It
caused the war to take place not in Attica, but on the confines of
Boeotia, eighty miles from the city. Instead of our being harried and
plundered by freebooters from Euboea, it gave peace to Attica from the
side of the sea throughout the war. Instead of Philip's taking Byzantium
and becoming master of the Hellespont, it caused the Byzantines to join us
in the war against him. {231} Can such achievements, think you, be
reckoned up like counters? Are we to cancel them out,[n] rather than
provide that they shall be remembered for all time? I need not now add
that it fell to others to taste the barbarity which is to be seen in every
case in which Philip got any one finally into his power; while you reaped
(and quite rightly) the fruits of the generosity which he feigned while he
was bringing within his grasp all that remained. But I pass this over.
{232} Nay, I will not even hesitate to say, that one who wished to review
an orator's career straightforwardly and without misrepresentation, would
not have included in his charges such matters as you just now spoke of--
making up illustrations, and mimicking words and gestures. Of course the
fortune which befell the Hellenes--surely you see this?--was entirely due
to my using this word instead of that, or waving my hand in one direction
rather than the other! {233} He would have inquired, by reference to the
actual facts, what resources and what forces the city had at her command
when I entered political life; what I subsequently collected for her when
I took control; and what was the condition of our adversaries. Then if I
had diminished our forces, he would have proved that the fault lay at my
door; but if I had greatly increased them, he would have abstained from
deliberate misrepresentation. But since you have avoided such an inquiry,
I will undertake it; and do you, gentlemen, observe whether my argument is
just.
{234} The military resources of the city included the islanders--and not
all, but only the weakest. For neither Chios nor Rhodes nor Corcyra was
with us. Their contribution in money came to 45 talents, and these had
been collected in advance.[n] Infantry and cavalry, besides our own, we
had none. But the circumstance which was most alarming to us and most
favourable to our enemies was that these men had contrived that all our
neighbours should be more inclined to enmity than to friendship--the
Megareans, the Thebans, and the Euboeans. {235} Such was the position of
the city at the time; and what I say admits of no contradiction. Now
consider the position of Philip, with whom our conflict lay. In the first
place, he held absolute sway over his followers--and this for purposes of
war is the greatest of all advantages. Next, his followers had their
weapons in their hands always. Then he was well off for money, and did
whatever he resolved to do, without giving warning of it by decrees, or
debating about it in public, or being put on trial by dishonest accusers,
or defending himself against indictments for illegality, or being bound to
render an account to any one. He was himself absolute master, commander,
and lord of all. {236} But I who was set to oppose him--for this inquiry
too it is just to make--what had I under my control? Nothing! For, to
begin with, the very right to address you--the only right I had--you
extended to Philip's hirelings in the same measure as to me; and as often
as they defeated me--and this frequently happened, whatever the reason on
each occasion--so often you went away leaving a resolution recorded in
favour of the enemy. {237} But in spite of all these disadvantages, I won
for you the alliance of the Euboeans, Achaeans, Corinthians, Thebans,
Megareans, Leucadians, and Corcyreans, from whom were collected--apart
from their citizen-troops--15,000 mercenaries and 2,000 cavalry. {238} And
I instituted a money-contribution, on as large a scale as I could. But if
you refer,[n] Aeschines, to what was fair as between ourselves and the
Thebans or the Byzantines or the Euboeans--if at this time you talk to us
of equal shares--you must be ignorant, in the first place, of the fact
that in former days also, out of those ships of war, three hundred [n] in
all, which fought for the Hellenes, Athens provided two hundred, and did
not think herself unfairly used, or let herself be seen arraigning those
who had counselled her action, or taking offence at the arrangement. It
would have been shameful. No! men saw her rendering thanks to Heaven,
because when a common peril beset the Hellenes, she had provided double as
much as all the rest to secure the deliverance of all. {239} Moreover, it
is but a hollow benefit that you are conferring upon your countrymen by
your dishonest charges against me. Why do you tell them _now_, what course
they ought to have taken? Why did you not propose such a course at the
time (for you were in Athens, and were present) if it was possible in the
midst of those critical times, when we had to accept, not what we chose,
but what circumstances allowed; since there was one at hand, bidding
against us, and ready to welcome those whom we rejected, and to pay them
into the bargain.
{240} But if I am accused to-day, for what I have actually done, what if
at the time I had haggled over these details, and the other states had
gone off and joined Philip, and he had become master at once of Euboea and
Thebes and Byzantium? What do you think these impious men would then have
done? {241} What would they have said? Would they not have declared that
the states had been surrendered? that they had been driven away, when they
wished to be on your side? 'See,' they would have said (would they not?),
'he has obtained through the Byzantines the command of the Hellespont and
the control of the corn trade of Hellas; and through the Thebans a trying
border war has been brought into Attica; and owing to the pirates who sail
from Euboea, the sea has become unnavigable,' and much more in addition.
{242} A villainous thing, men of Athens, is the dishonest accuser always--
villainous, and in every way malignant and fault-finding! Aye, and this
miserable creature is a fox by nature, that has never done anything honest
or gentlemanly--a very tragical ape, a clodhopping Oenomaus, a counterfeit
orator! {243} Where is the profit to your country from your cleverness? Do
you instruct us now about things that are past? It is as though a doctor,
when he was paying his visits to the sick, were to give them no advice or
instructions to enable them to become free from their illness, but, when
one of his patients died and the customary offerings[n] were being paid
him, were to explain, as he followed to the tomb, 'if this man had done
such and such things, he would not have died.' Crazy fool! Do you tell us
this _now_?
{244} Nor again will you find that the defeat--if you exult at it, when
you ought to groan, accursed man!--was determined by anything that was
within my control. Consider the question thus. In no place to which I was
sent by you as ambassador, did I ever come away defeated by the
ambassadors of Philip--not from Thessaly nor from Ambracia, not from the
Illyrians nor from the Thracian princes, not from Byzantium nor from any
other place, nor yet, on the last occasion, from Thebes. But every place
in which his ambassadors were defeated in argument, he proceeded to attack
and subdue by force of arms. {245} Do you then require those places at
_my_ hands? Are you not ashamed to jeer at a man as a coward, and in the
same breath to require him to prove superior, by his own unaided efforts,
to the army of Philip--and that with no weapons to use but words? For what
else was at my disposal? I could not control the spirit of each soldier,
or the fortune of the combatants, or the generalship displayed, of which,
in your perversity, you demand an account from me. {246} No; but every
investigation that can be made as regards those duties for which an orator
should be held responsible, I bid you make. I crave no mercy. And what are
those duties? To discern events in their beginnings, to foresee what is
coming, and to forewarn others. These things I have done. Again, it is his
duty to reduce to the smallest possible compass, wherever he finds them,
the slowness, the hesitation, the ignorance, the contentiousness, which
are the errors inseparably connected with the constitution of all city-
states; while, on the other hand, he must stimulate men to unity,
friendship, and eagerness to perform their duty. All these things I have
done, and no one can discover any dereliction of duty on my part at any
time. {247} If one were to ask any person whatever, by what means Philip
had accomplished the majority of his successes, every one would reply that
it was by means of his army, and by giving presents and corrupting those
in charge of affairs. Now I had no control or command of the forces:
neither, then, does the responsibility for anything that was done in that
sphere concern me. And further, in the matter of being or not being
corrupted by bribes, I have defeated Philip. For just as the bidder has
conquered one who accepts his money, if he effects his purchase, so one
who refuses to accept it [and is not corrupted] has conquered the bidder.
In all, therefore, in which I am concerned, the city has suffered no
defeat.
{248} The justification, then, with which I furnished the defendant for
such a motion as he proposed with regard to me, consisted (along with many
other points) of the facts which I have described, and others like them. I
will now proceed to that justification which all of you supplied. For
immediately after the battle, the People, who knew and had seen all that I
did, and now stood in the very midst of the peril and terror, at a moment
when it would not have been surprising if the majority had shown some
harshness towards me--the People, I say, in the first place carried my
proposals for ensuring the safety of the city; and all the measures
undertaken for its protection--the disposition of the garrisons, the
entrenchments, the funds for the fortifications--were all provided for by
decrees which I proposed. And, in the second place, when the People chose
a corn-commissioner, out of all Athens they elected me. {249} Subsequently
all those who were interested in injuring me combined, and assailed me
with indictments, prosecutions after audit, impeachments, and all such
proceedings--not in their own names at first, but through the agency of
men behind whom, they thought, they would best be screened against
recognition. For you doubtless know and remember that during the early
part of that period I was brought to trial every day; and neither the
desperation of Sosicles, nor the dishonest misrepresentations of
Philocrates,[n] nor the frenzy of Diondas and Melantus, nor any other
expedient, was left untried by them against me. And in all these trials,
thanks to the gods above all, but secondarily to you and the rest of the
Athenians, I was acquitted--and justly; for such a decision is in
accordance both with truth and with the credit of jurors who have taken
their oath, and given a verdict in conformity with it. {250} So whenever I
was impeached, and you absolved me and did not give the prosecutor the
necessary fraction of the votes, you were voting that my policy was the
best. Whenever I was acquitted upon an indictment, it was a proof that my
motion and proposals were according to law. Whenever you set your seal to
my accounts at an audit, you confessed in addition that I had acted
throughout with uprightness and integrity. And this being so, what epithet
was it fitting or just that Ctesiphon should apply to my actions? Was it
not that which he saw applied by the People, and by juries on their oath,
and ratified by Truth in the judgement of all men?
{251} 'Yes,' he replies, 'but Cephalus'[n] boast was a noble one--that he
had never been indicted at all.' True, and a happy thing also it was for
him. But why should one who has often been tried, but has never been
convicted of crime, deserve to incur criticism any the more on that
account? Yet in truth, men of Athens, so far as Aeschines is concerned, I
too can make this noble boast that Cephalus made. For he has never yet
preferred or prosecuted any indictment against me; so that by you at
least, Aeschines, I am admitted to be no worse a citizen than Cephalus.
{252} His want of feeling and his malignity may be seen in many ways, and
not least in the remarks which he made about fortune. For my part, I think
that, as a rule, when one human being reproaches another with his fortune,
he is a fool. For when he who thinks himself most prosperous and fancies
his fortune most excellent, does not know whether it will remain so until
the evening, how can it be right to speak of one's fortune, or to taunt
another with his? But since Aeschines adopts a tone of lofty superiority
upon this as upon many other subjects, observe, men of Athens, how much
more truthful and more becoming in a human being my own remarks upon
Aeschines' fortune will be. {253} I believe that the fortune of this city
is good; and I see that the God of Dodona also declares this to you
through his oracle. But I think that the prevailing fortune of mankind as
a whole to-day is grievous and terrible. For what man, Hellene or
foreigner, has not tasted abundance of evil at this present time? {254}
Now the fact that we chose the noblest course, and that we are actually
better off than those Hellenes who expected to live in prosperity if they
sacrificed us, I ascribe to the good fortune of the city. But in so far as
we failed, in so far as everything did not fall out in accordance with our
wishes, I consider that the city has received the share which was due to
us of the fortune of mankind in general. {255} But my personal fortune,
and that of every individual among us, ought, I think, in fairness to be
examined with reference to our personal circumstances. That is my
judgement with regard to fortune, and I believe (as I think you also do)
that my judgement is correct and just. But Aeschines asserts that my
personal fortune has more influence than the fortune of the city as a
community--the insignificant and evil more than the good and important!
How can this be?
{256} If, however, you determine at all costs to scrutinize my fortune,
Aeschines, then compare it with your own; and if you find that mine is
better than yours, then cease to revile it. Examine it, then, from the
very beginning. And, in Heaven's name, let no one condemn me for any want
of good taste. For I neither regard one who speaks insultingly of poverty,
nor one who prides himself on having been brought up in affluence, as a
man of sense. But the slanders and misrepresentations of this unfeeling
man oblige me to enter upon a discussion of this sort; and I will conduct
it with as much moderation as the facts allow.
{257} I then, Aeschines, had the advantage as a boy of attending the
schools which became my position, and of possessing as much as one who is
to do nothing ignoble owing to poverty must possess. When I passed out of
boyhood, my life corresponded with my upbringing--I provided choruses and
equipped warships; I paid the war-tax; I neglected none of the paths to
distinction in public or private life, but gave my services both to my
country and my friends; and when I thought fit to enter public life, the
measures which I decided to adopt were of such a character that I have
been crowned many times both by my country and by many other Hellenic
peoples, while not even you, my enemies, attempt to say that my choice was
not at least an honourable one. {258} Such is the fortune which has
accompanied my life, and though I might say much more about it, I refrain
from doing so, in my anxiety not to annoy any one by the expression of my
pride. And you--the lofty personage, the despiser of others--what has been
your fortune when compared with this?--the fortune, thanks to which you
were brought up as a boy in the depths of indigence, in close attendance
upon the school along with your father, pounding up the ink, sponging down
the forms, sweeping the attendants' room,[n] occupying the position of a
menial, not of a free-born boy! {259} Then, when you became a man, you
used to read out the books[n] to your mother at her initiations, and help
her in the rest of the hocus-pocus, by night dressing the initiated[n] in
fawnskins, drenching them from the bowl, purifying them and wiping them
down with the clay and the bran, and (when they were purified) bidding
them stand up and say, 'The ill is done, the good begun,' priding yourself
upon raising the shout of joy more loudly than any one had ever done
before--and I can believe it, for, when his voice is so loud, you dare not
imagine that his shout is anything but superlatively fine. {260} But by
day you used to lead those noble companies through the streets, men
crowned with fennel and white poplar,[n] throttling the puff-adders and
waving them over your head, crying out 'Euoe, Saboe,'[n] and dancing to
the tune of 'Hyes Attes, Attes Hyes'--addressed by the old hags as leader,
captain, ivy-bearer, fan-bearer, and so on; and as the reward of your
services getting sops and twists and barley-bannocks! Who would not
congratulate himself with good reason on such things, and bless his own
fortune? {261} But when you were enrolled among your fellow
parishioners,[n] by whatever means (for of that I say nothing)--when, I
say, you _were_ enrolled, you at once selected the noblest of occupations,
that of a clerk and servant to petty magistrates. {262} And when at length
you escaped from this condition also, after yourself doing all that you
impute to others, you in no way--Heaven knows!--disgraced your previous
record by the life which you subsequently lived; for you hired yourself
out to the actors Simylus and Socrates--the Roarers, they were nicknamed
--and played as a third-rate actor, collecting figs[n] and bunches of
grapes and olives, like a fruiterer gathering from other peoples' farms,
and getting more out of this than out of the dramatic competitions in
which you were competing for your lives; for there was war without truce
or herald between yourselves and the spectators; and the many wounds you
received from them make it natural for you to jeer at the cowardice of
those who have had no such experiences. {263} But I will pass over all
that might be accounted for by your poverty, and proceed to my charges
against your character itself. For you chose a line of political action
(when at length it occurred to you to take up politics too), in pursuance
of which, when your country's fortune was good, you lived the life of a
hare, in fear and trembling, always expecting a thrashing for the crimes
which lay on your conscience; whereas all have seen your boldness amid the
misfortunes of others. {264} But when a man plucks up courage at the death
of a thousand of his fellow citizens, what does he deserve to suffer at
the hands of the living? I have much more to say about him, but I will
leave it unsaid. It is not for me, I think, to mention lightly all the
infamy and disgrace which I could prove to be connected with him, but only
so much as it is not discreditable to myself to speak of.
{265} And now review the history of your life and of mine, side by side--
good temperedly, Aeschines, not unkindly: and then ask these gentlemen
which fortune, of the two, each of them would choose. You taught letters;
I attended school. You conducted initiations; I was initiated. You were a
clerk; I a member of the Assembly: you, a third-rate actor, I a spectator
of the play. You used to be driven from the stage, while I hissed. Your
political life has all been lived for the good of our enemies, mine for
the good of my country. {266} To pass over all besides, even on this very
day, I am being examined with regard to my qualification for a crown--it
is already admitted that I am clear of all crimes; while you have already
the reputation of a dishonest informer, and for you the issue at stake is
whether you are to continue such practices, or to be stopped once for all,
through failing to obtain a fifth part of the votes. A good fortune
indeed--can you not see?--is that which has accompanied your life, that
you should denounce mine!
{267} And now let me read to you the evidence of the public burdens which
I have undertaken; and side by side with them, do you, Aeschines, read the
speeches which you used to murder--
'I leave the abysm of death and gates of gloom,'[n]
and
'Know that I am not fain ill-news to bring';
and 'evil in evil wise',[n] may you be brought to perdition, by the gods
above all, and then by all those here present, villainous citizen,
villainous third-rate actor that you are. (_To the clerk_.) Read the
evidence.
[_The evidence is read_.]
{268} Such was I in my relation to the State. And as to my private life,
unless you all know that I was open-hearted and generous and at the
disposal of all who had need of me, I am silent; I prefer to tell you
nothing, and to produce no evidence whatever, to show whether I ransomed
some from the enemy, or helped others to give their daughters in marriage,
or rendered any such services. {269} For my principle may perhaps be
expressed thus. I think that one who has received a kindness ought to
remember it all his life; but that the doer of the kindness should forget
it once for all; if the former is to behave like a good man, the latter
like one free from all meanness. To be always recalling and speaking of
one's own benefactions is almost like upbraiding the recipients of them. I
will do nothing of the kind, and will not be led into doing so. Whatever
be the opinion that has been formed of me in these respects, with that I
am content.
{270} But I desire to be rid of personal topics, and to say a little more
to you about public affairs. For if, Aeschines, you can mention one of all
those who dwell beneath the sun above us, Hellene or foreigner, who has
not suffered under the absolute sway, first of Philip, and now of
Alexander, so be it! I concede that it is my fortune or misfortune,
whichever you are pleased to call it, that has been to blame for
everything. {271} But if many of those who have never once even seen me or
heard my voice have suffered much and terribly--and not individuals alone,
but whole cities and nations--how much more just and truthful it is to
regard the common fortune (as it seems to be) of all mankind, and a
certain stubborn drift of events in the wrong direction, as the cause of
these sufferings. {272} Such considerations, however, you discard. You
impute the blame to me, whose political life has been lived among my own
fellow countrymen--and that, though you know that your slander falls in
part (if not entirely) upon all of them, and above all upon yourself. For
if, when I took part in the discussion of public affairs, I had had
absolute power, it would have been possible for all of you, the other
orators, to lay the blame on me. {273} But if you were present at every
meeting of the Assembly; if the city always brought forward questions of
policy for public consideration; if at the time my policy appeared the
best to every one, and above all to you (for it was certainly from no
goodwill that you relinquished to me the hopes, the admiration, the
honours, which all attached themselves to my policy at that time, but
obviously because the truth was too strong for you, and you had nothing
better to propose); then surely you are guilty of monstrous iniquity, in
finding fault to-day with a policy, than which, at the time, you could
propose nothing better. {274} Among all the rest of mankind, I observe
that some such principles as the following have been, as it were,
determined and ordained. If a man commits a deliberate crime, indignation
and punishment are ordained against him. If he commits an involuntary
mistake, instead of punishment, he is to receive pardon. If, without crime
or mistake, one who has given himself up wholly to that which seems to be
for the advantage of all has, in company with all, failed to achieve
success, then it is just, not to reproach or revile such a man, but to
sympathize with him. {275} Moreover, it will be seen that all these
principles are not so ordained in the laws alone. Nature herself has laid
them down in her unwritten law, and in the moral consciousness of mankind.
Aeschines, then, has so far surpassed all mankind in brutality and in the
art of misrepresentation, that he actually denounces me for things which
he himself mentioned under the name of misfortunes.
{276} In addition to everything else, as though he had himself always
spoken straightforwardly and in loyalty, he bade you keep your eyes on me
carefully, and make sure that I did not mislead or deceive you. He called
me 'a clever speaker', 'a wizard', 'a sophist', and so on: just as if it
followed that when a man had the first word and attributed his own
qualities to another, the truth was really as he stated, and his hearers
would not inquire further who he himself was, that said such things. But I
am sure that you all know this man, and are aware that these qualities
belong to him far more than to me. And again, {277} I am quite sure that
my cleverness--yes, let the word pass; though I observe that the influence
of a speaker depends for the most part on his audience; for in proportion
to the welcome and the goodwill which you accord to each speaker is the
credit which he obtains for wisdom;--I am sure, I say, that if I too
possess any such skill, you will all find it constantly fighting on your
behalf in affairs of State, never in opposition to you, never for private
ends; while the skill of Aeschines, on the contrary, is employed, not only
in upholding the cause of the enemy, but in attacking any one who has
annoyed him or come into collision with him anywhere. He neither employs
it uprightly, nor to promote the interests of the city. {278} For a good
and honourable citizen ought not to require from a jury, who have come
into court to represent the interests of the community, that they shall
give their sanction to his anger, or his enmity, or any other such
passion; nor ought he to come before you to gratify such feelings. It were
best that he had no such passions in his nature at all; but if they are
really inevitable, then he should keep them tame and subdued. Under what
circumstances, then, should a politician and an orator show passion? {279}
When any of the vital interests of his country are at stake; when it is
with its enemies that the People has to deal: those are the circumstances.
For then is the opportunity of a loyal and gallant citizen. But that when
he has never to this day demanded my punishment, either in the name of the
city or in his own, for any public--nor, I will add, for any private--
crime, he should have come here with a trumped-up charge against the grant
of a crown and a vote of thanks, and should have spent so many words upon
it--that is a sign of personal enmity and jealousy and meanness, not of
any good quality. {280} And that he should further have discarded every
form of lawsuit against myself, and should have come here to-day to attack
the defendant, is the very extremity of baseness. It shows, I think,
Aeschines, that your motive in undertaking this suit was your desire, not
to exact vengeance for any crime, but to give a display of rhetoric and
elocution. Yet it is not his language, Aeschines, that deserves our esteem
in an orator, nor the pitch of his voice, but his choice of the aims which
the people chooses, his hatred or love of those whom his country loves or
hates. {281} He whose heart is so disposed will always speak with loyal
intent; but he who serves those from whom the city foresees danger to
herself, does not ride at the same anchor as the People, and therefore
does not look for safety to the same quarter. But I do, mark you! For I
have made the interests of my countrymen my own, and have counted nothing
as reserved for my own private advantage. What? {282} You have not done so
either? How can that be, when immediately after the battle you went your
way as an ambassador to Philip, the author of the calamities which befell
your country at that time; and that, despite the fact that until then you
always denied this intimacy[n] with him, as every one knows? But what is
meant by a deceiver of the city? Is it not one who does not say what he
thinks? Upon whom does the herald justly pronounce the curse? Is it not
upon such a man as this? With what greater crime can one charge a man who
is an orator, than that of saying one thing and thinking another? Such a
man you have been found to be. {283} And after this do you open your
mouth, or dare to look this audience in the face? Do you imagine that they
do not know who you are? or that the slumber of forgetfulness has taken
such hold upon them all, that they do not remember the speeches which you
used to deliver during the war, when you declared with imprecations and
oaths that you had nothing to do with Philip, and that I was bringing this
accusation against you, when it was not true, to satisfy my personal
enmity? {284} But so soon as the news of the battle had come, you thought
no more of all this, but at once avowed and professed that you stood on a
footing of friendship and guest-friendship with him; though these were
nothing but your hireling-service under other names; for upon what honest
or equal basis could Aeschines, the son of Glaucothea the tambourine--
player,[n] enjoy the guest-friendship, or the friendship, or the
acquaintance of Philip? I cannot see. In fact, you had been hired by him
to ruin the interests of these your countrymen. And yet, though your own
treason has been so plainly detected--though you have been an informer
against yourself after the event--you still revile me, and reproach me
with crimes of which, you will find, any one is more guilty than I.
{285} Many a great and noble enterprise, Aeschines, did this city
undertake and succeed in, inspired by me; and she did not forget them. It
is a proof of this, that when, immediately after the event, the People had
to elect one who should pronounce the oration over the dead, and you were
nominated, they did not elect you, for all your fine voice, nor Demades,
who had just negotiated the Peace, nor Hegemon,[n] nor any other member of
your party: they elected me. And when you and Pythocles[n] came forward in
a brutal and shameless fashion, God knows! and made the same charges
against me as you are making again to-day, and abused me, the People
elected me even more decidedly. {286} And the reason you know well; but I
will tell it you nevertheless. They knew for themselves both the loyalty
and zeal which inspired my conduct of affairs, and the iniquity of
yourself and your friends. For what you denied with oaths when our cause
was prosperous, you admitted in the hour of the city's failure; and those,
accordingly, who were only enabled by the misfortunes of their country to
express their views without fear, they decided to have been enemies of
their own for a long while, though only then did they stand revealed.{287}
And further, they thought that one who was to pronounce an oration over
the dead, and to adorn their valour, should not have come beneath the same
roof, nor shared the same libation,[n] as those who were arrayed against
them; that he should not there join with those who with their own hands
had slain them, in the revel[n] and the triumph-song over the calamities
of the Hellenes, and then come home and receive honour--that he should not
play the mourner over their fate with his voice, but should grieve for
them in his heart. What they required they saw in themselves and in me,
but not in you; and this was why they appointed me, and not any of you.
{288} Nor, when the people acted thus, did the fathers and brothers of the
slain, who were then publicly appointed to conduct the funeral, act
otherwise. For since (in accordance with the ordinary custom) they had to
hold the funeral-feast in the house of the nearest of kin, as it were, to
the slain, they held it at my house, and with reason; for though by birth
each was more nearly akin to his dead than I, yet none stood nearer to
them all in common. For he who had their life and their success most at
heart, had also, when they had suffered what I would they had not, the
greatest share of sorrow for them all.
(_To the clerk _) {289} Read him the epitaph which the city resolved to
inscribe above them at the public cost; (_to Aeschines_) that even by
these very lines, Aeschines, you may know that you are a man destitute of
feeling, a dishonest accuser, an abominable wretch!
_The Inscription_.[n]
These for their country, fighting side by side,
By deeds of arms dispelled the foemen's pride.
heir lives they saved not, bidding Death make clear--
Impartial Judge!--their courage or their fear.
For Greece they fought, lest, 'neath the yoke brought low,
In thraldom she th' oppressor's scorn should know.
Now in the bosom of their fatherland
After their toil they rest--'tis God's command.
'Tis God's alone from failure free to live;[n]
Escape from Fate to no man doth He give.
{290} Do you hear, Aeschines [in these very lines], 'Tis God's alone from
failure free to live'? Not to the statesman has he ascribed the power to
secure success for those who strive, but to the gods. Why then, accursed
man, do you revile _me_, for our failure, in words which I pray the gods
to turn upon the heads of you and yours?
{291} But, even after all the other lying accusations which he has brought
against me, the thing which amazed me most of all, men of Athens, was that
when he mentioned what had befallen the city, he did not think of it as a
loyal and upright citizen would have thought. He shed no tears; he felt no
emotion of sorrow in his heart: he lifted up his voice, he exulted, he
strained his throat, evidently in the belief that he was accusing me,
though in truth he was giving us an illustration, to his own discredit, of
the utter difference between his feelings and those of others, at the
painful events which had taken place. {292} But surely one who professes,
as Aeschines professes now, to care for the laws and the constitution,
ought to show, if nothing else, at least that he feels the same griefs and
the same joys as the People, and has not, by his political profession,
ranged himself on the side of their opponents. That you have done the
latter is manifest today, when you pretend that the blame for everything
is mine, and that it is through me that the city was plunged in trouble:
though it was not through my statesmanship or my policy, gentlemen, {293}
that you began to help the Hellenes: for were you to grant me this--that
it was through me that you had resisted the dominion which was being
established over the Hellenes--you would have granted me a testimonial
which all those that you have given to others together could not equal.
But neither would I make such an assertion; for it would be unjust to you;
nor, I am sure, would you concede its truth: and if Aeschines were acting
honestly, he would not have been trying to deface and misrepresent the
greatest of your glories, in order to satisfy his hatred towards me.
{294} But why do I rebuke him for this, when he has made other lying
charges against me, which are more outrageous by far? For when a man
charges me--I call Heaven and Earth to witness!--with philippizing, what
will he not say? By Heracles and all the gods, if one had to inquire
truthfully, setting aside all calumny and all expression of animosity, who
are in reality the men upon whose heads all would naturally and justly lay
the blame for what has taken place, you would find that it was those in
each city who resemble Aeschines, not those who resemble me. {295} For
they, when Philip's power was weak and quite insignificant--when we
repeatedly warned and exhorted you and showed you what was best--they, to
satisfy their own avarice, sacrificed the interests of the community, each
group deceiving and corrupting their own fellow citizens, until they
brought them into bondage. Thus the Thessalians were treated by Daochus,
Cineas, and Thrasydaeus; the Arcadians by Cercidas, Hieronymus and
Eucampidas; the Argives by Myrtis, Teledamus, and Mnaseas; the Eleans by
Euxitheus, Cleotimus and Aristaechmus; the Messenians by the sons of the
godforsaken Philiadas--Neon and Thrasylochus; the Sicymians by Aristratus
and Epichares; the Corinthians by Deinarchus and Demaretus; the Megareans
by Ptoeodorus, Helixus and Perillus; the Thebans by Timolaus, Theogeiton,
and Anemoetas; the Euboeans by Hipparchus and Sosistratus. {296} Daylight
will fail me before the list of the traitors is complete. All these, men
of Athens, are men who pursue the same designs in their own cities, as my
opponents pursue among you--abominable men, flatterers, evil spirits, who
have hacked the limbs each of his own fatherland, and like boon companions
have pledged away their freedom, first to Philip and now to Alexander; men
whose measure of happiness is their belly, and their lowest instincts;
while as for freedom, and the refusal to acknowledge any man as lord--the
standard and rule of good to the Hellenes of old--they have flung it to
the ground.
{297} Of this shameful and notorious conspiracy and wickedness--or rather
(to speak with all earnestness, men of Athens), of this treason against
the freedom of the Hellenes--Athens has been guiltless in the eyes of all
men, in consequence of my statesmanship, as I have been guiltless in your
eyes. And do you then ask me for what merits I count myself worthy to
receive honour? I tell you that at a time when every politician in Hellas
had been corrupted--beginning with yourself--[firstly by Philip, and now
by Alexander], {298} no opportunity that offered, no generous language, no
grand promises, no hopes, no fears, nor any other motive, tempted or
induced me to betray one jot of what I believed to be the rights and
interests of the city; nor, of all the counsel that I have given to my
fellow countrymen, up to this day, has any ever been given (as it has by
you) with the scales of the mind inclining to the side of gain, but all
out of an upright, honest, uncorrupted soul. I have taken the lead in
greater affairs than any man of my own time, and my administration has
been sound and honest throughout all. {299} That is why I count myself
worthy of honour. But as for the fortifications and entrenchments, for
which you ridiculed me, I judge them to be deserving, indeed, of gratitude
and commendation--assuredly they are so--but I set them far below my own
political services. Not with stones, nor with bricks, did I fortify this
city. Not such are the works upon which I pride myself most. But would you
inquire honestly wherein my fortifications consist? You will find them in
munitions of war, in cities, in countries, in harbours, in ships, in
horses, and in men ready to defend my fellow countrymen. {300} These are
the defences I have set to protect Attica, so far as by human calculation
it could be done; and with these I have fortified our whole territory--not
the circuit of the Peiraeus or of the city alone. Nor in fact, did _I
_prove inferior to Philip in calculations--far from it!--or in
preparations for war; but the generals of the confederacy,[n] and their
forces, proved inferior to him in fortune. Where are the proofs of these
things? They are clear and manifest. I bid you consider them.
{301} What was the duty of a loyal citizen--one who was acting with all
forethought and zeal and uprightness for his country's good? Was it not to
make Euboea the bulwark of Attica on the side of the sea, and Boeotia on
that of the mainland, and on that of the regions towards the Peloponnese,
our neighbours[n] in that direction? Was it not to provide for the corn-
trade, and to ensure that it should pass along a continuously friendly
coast all the way to the Peiraeus? {302} Was it not to preserve the places
which were ours--Proconnesus, the Chersonese, Tenedos--by dispatching
expeditions to aid them, and proposing and moving resolutions accordingly;
and to secure the friendship and alliance of the rest--Byzantium,
Tenedos, Euboea? Was it not to take away the greatest of the resources
which the enemy possessed, and to add what was lacking to those of the
city? {303} All this has been accomplished by my decrees and by the
measures which I have taken; and all these measures, men of Athens, will
be found by any one who will examine them without jealousy, to have been
correctly planned, and executed with entire honesty: the opportunity for
each step was not, you will find, neglected or left unrecognized or thrown
away by me, and nothing was left undone, which it was within the power and
the reasoning capacity of a single man to effect. But if the might of some
Divine Power, or the inferiority of our generals, or the wickedness of
those who were betraying your cities, or all these things together,
continuously injured our whole cause, until they effected its overthrow,
how is Demosthenes at fault? {304} Had there been in each of the cities of
Hellas one man, such as I was, as I stood at my own post in your midst--
nay, if all Thessaly and all Arcadia had each had but one man animated by
the same spirit as myself--not one Hellenic people, either beyond or on
this side of Thermopylae, would have experienced the evils which they now
suffer. {305} All would have been dwelling in liberty and independence,
free from all fears, secure and prosperous, each in their own land,
rendering thanks for all these great blessings to you and the rest of the
Athenian people, through me. But that you may know that in my anxiety to
avoid jealousy, I am using language which is far from adequate to the
actual facts, (_to the clerk_) read me this; and take and recite the list
of the expeditions sent out in accordance with my decrees.
[_The list of expeditions is read]_
{306} These measures, and others like them, Aeschines, were the measures
which it was the duty of a loyal and gallant citizen to take. If they were
successful, it was certain that we should be indisputably the strongest
power, and that with justice as well as in fact: and now that they have
resulted otherwise, we are left with at least an honourable name. No man
casts reproach either upon the city, or upon the choice which she made:
they do but upbraid Fortune, who decided the issue thus. {307} It was not,
God knows, a citizen's duty to abandon his country's interests, to sell
his services to her opponents, and cherish the opportunities of the enemy
instead of those of his country. Nor was it, on the one hand, to show his
malice against the man who had faced the task of proposing and moving
measures worthy of the city, and persisting in that intention; while, on
the other hand, he remembered and kept his eyes fixed upon any private
annoyance which another had caused him: nor was it to maintain a wicked
and festering inactivity, as you so often do. {308} Assuredly there is an
inactivity that is honest and brings good to the State--the inactivity
which you,[n] the majority of the citizens, observe in all sincerity. But
that is not the inactivity of Aeschines. Far from it! He, on the contrary,
retires just when he chooses, from public life (and he often chooses to do
so), that he may watch for the moment when you will be sated with the
continual speeches of the same adviser, or when fortune has thrown some
obstacle in your path, or some other disagreeable event has happened (for
in the life of man many things are possible); and then, when such an
opportunity comes, suddenly, like a gale of wind, out of his retirement he
comes forth an orator, with his voice in training, and his phrases and his
sentences collected; and these he strings together lucidly, without
pausing for breath, though they bring with them no profit, no accession of
anything good, but only calamity to one or another of his fellow citizens,
and shame to all alike. {309} Surely, Aeschines, if all this practice and
study sprang from an honest heart, resolved to pursue the interests of
your country, the fruits of it should have been noble and honourable and
profitable to all--alliances of cities, supplies of funds, opening of
ports,[n] enactment of beneficial laws, acts of opposition to our proved
enemies. {310} It was for all such services that men looked in bygone
days; and the past has offered, to any loyal and gallant citizen, abundant
opportunities of displaying them: but nowhere in the ranks of such men
will you ever be found to have stood--not first, nor second, nor third,
nor fourth, nor fifth, nor sixth, nor in any position whatsoever; at
least, not in any matters whereby your country stood to gain. {311} For
what alliance has the city gained by negotiations of yours? What
assistance, what fresh access of goodwill or fame? What diplomatic or
administrative action of yours has brought new dignity to the city? What
department of our home affairs, or our relations with Hellenic and foreign
states, over which you have presided, has shown any improvement? Where are
your ships? Where are your munitions of war? Where are your dockyards?
Where are the walls that you have repaired? Where are your cavalry? Where
in the world _is_ your sphere of usefulness? What pecuniary assistance
have you ever given, as a good and generous fellow citizen,[n] either to
rich or poor? {312} 'But, my good sir, 'you say, 'if I have done none of
these things, I have at least given my loyalty and goodwill.' Where? When?
Why, even at a time when all who ever opened their lips upon the platform
contributed voluntarily to save the city, till, last of all, Aristonicus
gave what he had collected to enable him to regain his civil rights--even
then, most iniquitous of men! you never came forward or made any
contribution whatever: and assuredly it was not from poverty, when you had
inherited more than five talents out of the estate of your father-in-law
Philo, and had received two talents subscribed by the leaders of the Naval
Boards,[n] for your damaging attack upon my Naval Law.[n] {313} But I will
say no more about this, lest by passing from subject to subject I should
break away from the matter in hand. It is at least plain that your failure
to contribute was not due to your poverty, but to your anxiety to do
nothing in opposition to those whose interest is the guide of your whole
public life. On what occasions, then, do your spirit and your brilliancy
show themselves? When something must be done to injure your fellow
countrymen--then your voice is most glorious, your memory most perfect;
then you are a prince of actors, a Theocrines[n] on the tragic stage!
{314} Again, you have recalled the gallant men of old, and you do well to
do so. Yet it is not just, men of Athens, to take advantage of the good
feeling which you may be relied upon to entertain towards the dead, in
order to examine me before you by their standard, and compare me, who am
still living amongst you, with them. {315} Who in all the world does not
know that against the living there is always more or less of secret
jealousy, while none, not even their enemies, hate the dead any more? And
am I, in spite of this law of nature, to be judged and examined to-day by
the standard of those who were before me? By no means! It would be neither
just nor fair, Aeschines. But let me be compared with yourself, or with
any of those who have adopted the same policy as yourself, and are still
alive. {316} And consider this also. Which of these alternatives is the
more honourable? Which is better for the city?--that the good services
done by men of former times--tremendous, nay even beyond all description
though they may be--should be made an excuse for exposing to ingratitude
and contumely those that are rendered to the present generation? or that
all who act in loyalty should have a share in the honours and the kindness
which our fellow citizens dispense? {317} Aye, and (if I must say this
after all) the policy and the principles which I have adopted will be
found, if rightly viewed, to resemble and to have the same aims as those
of the men who in that age received praise; while yours resemble those of
the dishonest assailants of such persons in those days. For in their time
also there were obviously persons who disparaged the living and praised
the men of old, acting in the same malicious way as yourself. {318} Do you
say then, that I am in no way like them? But are you like them, Aeschines?
or your brother? or any other orator of the present day? For my part, I
should say, 'None.' Nay, my good sir--to use no other epithet--compare the
living with the living, their contemporaries, as men do in every other
matter, whether they are comparing poets or choruses or competitors in the
games. {319} Because Philammon was not so powerful as Glaucus of
Carystus[n] and some other athletes of former times, he did not leave
Olympia uncrowned: but because he fought better than all who entered
against him, he was crowned and proclaimed victor. Do you likewise examine
me beside the orators of the day--beside yourself, beside any one in the
world that you choose. {320} I fear no man's rivalry. For, while the city
was still free to choose the best course, and all alike could compete with
one another in loyalty to their country, I was found the best adviser of
them all. It was by my laws, by my decrees, by my diplomacy, that all was
effected. Not one of your party appeared anywhere, unless some insult was
to be offered to your fellow countrymen. But when there happened, what I
would had never happened--when it was not statesmen that were called to
the front, but those who would do the bidding of a master, those who were
anxious to earn wages by injuring their country, and to flatter a
stranger--then, along with every member of your party, you were found at
your post, the grand and resplendent owner of a stud;[n] while I was weak,
I confess, yet more loyal to my fellow countrymen than you. {321} Two
characteristics, men of Athens, a citizen of a respectable character (for
this is perhaps the least invidious phrase that I can apply to myself)
must be able to show: when he enjoys authority, he must maintain to the
end the policy whose aims are noble action and the pre-eminence of his
country: and at all times and in every phase of fortune he must remain
loyal. For this depends upon his own nature; while his power and his
influence are determined by external causes. And in me, you will find,
this loyalty has persisted unalloyed. For mark this. {322} Not when my
surrender was demanded, not when I was called to account before the
Amphictyons, not in face either of threats or of promises, not when these
accursed men were hounded on against me like wild beasts, have I ever been
false to my loyalty towards you. For from the very first, I chose the
straight and honest path in public life: I chose to foster the honour, the
supremacy, the good name of my country, to seek to enhance them, and to
stand or fall with them. {323} I do not walk through the market, cheerful
and exultant over the success of strangers, holding out my hand and giving
the good tidings to any whom I expect to report my conduct yonder, but
shuddering, groaning, bowing myself to the earth, when I hear of the
city's good fortune, as do these impious men, who make a mock of the city
--not remembering that in so doing they are mocking themselves--while they
direct their gaze abroad, and, whenever another has gained success through
the failure of the Hellenes, belaud that state of things, and declare that
we must see that it endures for all time.
{324} Never, O all ye gods, may any of you consent to their desire! If it
can be, may you implant even in these men a better mind and heart. But if
they are verily beyond all cure, then bring them and them alone to utter
and early destruction, by land and sea. And to us who remain, grant the
speediest release from the fears that hang over us, and safety that naught
can shake!
FOOTNOTES
[1] Some writers suppose that it was at the meeting in the spring of 339.
The evidence is not conclusive, but appears to point to the date given
here.
NOTES:
(Back To Top)
ON THE NAVAL BOARDS
Sec. 1. _who praise your forefathers_. The advocates of war with Persia had
doubtless appealed to the memory of Marathon and Salamis, and the old
position of Athens as the champion of Greece against Persia.
Sec. 10, 11. The argument is this: 'If a war with Persia needed a special
kind of force, we could not prepare for it without being detected: but as
all wars need the same kind of force, our preparations need rouse no
suspicion in Persia particularly.'
_acknowledged foes_: i.e. probably Thebes, or the revolted allies of
Athens, with whom a disadvantageous peace had, perhaps, just been made. It
is not, however, impossible that Philip also is in the orator's mind; for
though at the time he was probably engaged in war with the Illyrians and
Paeonians, his quarrel with Athens in regard to Amphipolis had not been
settled. The Olynthians may also be thought of. (See Introd. to Phil. I
and Olynthiacs.)
Sec. 12. _rhapsodies_. The rhapsodes who went about Greece reciting Homer and
other poets had lost the distinction they once enjoyed, and 'rhapsody'
became a synonym for idle declamation.
Sec. 14. _a bold speech_: i.e. a demand for instant war, helped out by
rhetorical praises of the men of old.
Sec. 16. _unmarried heiresses and orphans_. These would be incapable of
discharging the duties of the trierarchy, though their estates were liable
for the war-tax. Partners were probably exempted, when none of them
possessed so large a share in the common property as would render him
liable for trierarchy.
_property outside Attica_. According to the terms made by Athens with her
allies when the 'Second Delian League' was formed in 378, Athens undertook
that no Athenian should hold property in an allied State. But this
condition had been broken, and the multiplication of Athenian estates
[Greek: _kl_erhouchiai_] in allied territories had been one of the causes
of the war with the allies.
_unable to contribute_: e. g. owing to no longer possessing the estate
which he had when the assessment was made.
Sec. 17. _to associate, &c_. The sections which contained a very rich man
were to have poor men included in it, so that the total wealth of every
section might be the same, and the distribution of the burden between the
sections fair.
Sec. 18. _the first hundred, &c_. Demosthenes thinks of the fleet as
composed, according to need, of 100, 200, or 300 vessels, and treats each
hundred as a separate squadron, to be separately divided among the Boards.
_by lot_. In this and other clauses of his proposal, Demosthenes
stipulates for the use of the lot ([Greek: _sunkl_er_osai_], [Greek:
epikl_erosai]) to avoid all unfair selection. It is only in the
distribution of duties among the smaller sections within each Board that
assignment by arrangement ([Greek: _apodounai_], a word suggesting
distribution according to fitness or convenience) is to be allowed.
Sec. 19. _taxable capital_ ([Greek: _tim_ema_]). The war-tax and the
trierarchic burdens were assessed on a valuation of the contributor's
property. Upon this valuation of his taxable capital he paid the
percentage required. (The old view that he was taxed not upon his capital,
as valued, but upon a fraction of it varying with his wealth, rests upon
an interpretation of passages in the Speeches against Aphobus, which is
open to grave question.) The total amount of the single valuations was the
'estimated taxable capital of the country' ([Greek: _tim_ema t_es
ch_oras_]). This, in the case of the trierarchy, would be the aggregate
amount of the valuations of the 1,200 wealthiest men, viz. 6,000 talents.
(Of course the capital taxable for the war-tax would be considerably
larger. Even at a time when the prosperity of Attica was much lower, in
378-377 B.C., it was nearly 6,000 talents, according to Polybius, ii. 62.
6.)
Sec. 20. A tabular statement will make this plain:--
_Persons _Total capital
taxable
_Ships_.
responsible_. for
each ship_.
100
12
60 tal.
200
6
30 "
300
4
20 "
The percentage payable on the taxable capital was of course higher, the
larger the number of ships required. Each ship appears to have cost on the
average a talent to equip. The percentages in the three cases contained in
the table would therefore be 1-2/3, 3-1/3, and 5, respectively. (Compare Sec.
27.)
Sec. 21. _fittings ... in arrear_. Apparently former trierarchs had not
always given back the fittings of their vessels, which had either been
provided at the expense of the State, or lent to the trierarchs by the
State.
Sec. 23. _wards_ ([Greek: _trittyes_]). The trittys or ward was one-third of
a tribe.
Sec. 25. _you see ... city_. The Assembly met on the Pnyx, whence there was a
view of the Acropolis and of the greater part of the ancient city.
_prophets_. The Athenian populace seems always to have been liable to the
influence of soothsayers, who professed to utter oracles from the gods,
particularly when war was threatening. This was so (e. g.) at the time of
the Peloponnesian War (Thucyd. ii. 8, v. 26), and the soothsayer is
delightfully caricatured by Aristophanes in the _Birds_ and elsewhere.
Sec. 29. _two hundred ships ... one hundred were Athenian_. In the Speech on
the Crown, Sec. 238, Demosthenes gives the numbers as 300 and 200. Perhaps a
transcriber at an early stage in the history of the text accidentally
wrote HH (the symbol for 200) instead of HHH, in the case of the first
number, and a later scribe then 'corrected' the second number into H
instead of HH. The numbers given by Herodotus are 378 and 180, and, for
the Persian ships, 1,207.
Sec. 31. _against Egypt_, which was now in rebellion against Artaxerxes.
Orontas, Satrap of Mysia, was more or less constantly in revolt during
this period.
Sec. 32. _even more certainly_ [Greek: _palai_]: lit. 'long ago'. The
transition from temporal to logical priority is paralleled in certain uses
of other temporal adverbs, e.g. [Greek: _euthys_] (Aristotle, _Poet_. v),
and [Greek: _schol_e_] (of which, as Weil notes, [Greek: _palai_] is the
exact opposite).
Sec. 34. _sins against Hellas_. This refers to the support given to the
Persian invaders by Thebes in the Persian Wars (Herod. viii. 34).
FOR THE MEGALOPOLITANS
Sec. 4. _Plataeae_ (which had been overthrown by the enemies of Athens in the
course of the Peloponnesian War, but rebuilt, with the aid of Sparta, in
378) was destroyed by Thebes in 373-372. About the same time Thebes
destroyed Thespiae, which, like Plataeae, was well-disposed towards
Athens; and in 370 the Thebans massacred the male population of
Orchomenus, and sold the women and children into slavery.
Sec. 11. _Oropus_ had sometimes belonged to Thebes and sometimes to Athens.
In 366 it was taken from Athens by Themison, tyrant of Eretria (exactly
opposite Oropus, on the coast of Euboea), and placed in the hands of
Thebes until the ownership should be decided. Thebes retained it until it
was restored to Athens by Philip in 338.
Sec. 12. _when all the Peloponnesians, &c_. The reference seems to be to the
year 370, shortly after the battle of Leuctra, when the Peloponnesian
States sought the protection of Athens against Sparta, and, being refused,
became allies of Thebes (Diodorus xv. 62). In 369 Athens made an alliance
with Sparta.
Sec. 14. _saved the Spartans_. See last note. Athens also assisted the
Spartans at Mantineia in 362.
_the Thebans_. In 378 and the following years Athens assisted Thebes
against the Spartans under Agesilaus and Cleombrotus.
_the Euboeans_. In 358 or 357 Euboea succeeded in obtaining freedom from
the domination of Thebes by the aid of Athenian troops under Timotheus.
Sec. 16. _Triphylia_, a district between Elis and Messenia, was the subject
of a long-standing dispute between the Eleans and the Arcadians, and seems
to have been in the hands of the latter since (about) 368.
_Tricaranum_, a fortress in the territory of Phlius, had been seized by
the Argives in 369, and used as a centre from which incursions were made
into Phliasian territory.
Sec. 20. _allies of Thebes_: in order to preserve the balance of power
between Thebes and Sparta.
Sec. 21. _the Theban confederacy_. The reference is particularly to the
Arcadian allies of Thebes, but the wider expression perhaps suggests a
general policy of a more ambitious kind.
Sec. 22. _you, I think, know_. He refers to the older members of the
Assembly, who would remember the tyrannical conduct of Sparta during the
period of her supremacy (the first quarter of the fourth century B.C.).
Sec. 27. _pillars_. The terms of an alliance were usually recorded upon
pillars erected by each State on some site fixed by agreement or custom.
Sec. 28. _in the war_: i.e. the 'Sacred War', against the Phocians.
FOR THE FREEDOM OF THE RHODIANS
Sec. 3. _now it will be seen_: i.e. if you come to a right decision, and help
the Rhodians.
Sec. 5. _the Egyptians_. See Speech on Naval Boards, Sec. 31 n.
Sec. 6. _to advise you_: i.e. in the Speech on the Naval Boards (see
especially Sec.Sec. 10, 11 of that Speech).
Sec. 9. _Ariobarzanes_, Satrap of the Hellespont, joined in the general
revolt of the princes of Asia Minor against Persia in 362, at first
secretly (as though making war against other satraps) but afterwards
openly. Timotheus was sent to help him, on the understanding that he must
not break the Peace of Antalcidas (378 B.C.), according to which the Greek
cities in Asia were to belong to the king, but the rest were to be
independent (except that Athens was to retain Lemnos, Imbros, and Scyros).
When Ariobarzanes broke out in open revolt, Timotheus could not help him
without breaking the first provision; but the Persian occupation tion of
Samos was itself a violation of the second, and he was therefore justified
in relieving the town.
Sec. 11. _while he is in her neighbourhood_. Artaxerxes almost certainly went
in person to Egypt about this time. (That he went before 346 is proved by
Isocrates, _Philippus_, Sec. 101; and he was no doubt expected to go, even
before he went.) The alternative rendering, 'since he is still to be a
neighbouring power to herself,' is less good, since he would be this,
whether he conquered Egypt or not.
Sec. 14. _Rhodians who are now in possession_: i.e. the oligarchs, who held
the town with the help of Caria.
_some of their fellow-citizens_: i.e. some of the democratic party.
Sec. 15. _official patron_ ([Greek: _proxenos_]). The 'official patron' of
another State in Athens was necessarily an Athenian, and so differed from
the modern consul, whom he otherwise resembled in many ways (cf.
Phillipson, _International Law and Custom of Ancient Greece and Rome_,
vol. i, pp. 147-56).
Sec. 17. _publicly provided_: i.e. in treaties between the States.
Sec. 22. _when our democracy_, &c.: i.e. in 404, when, at the conclusion of
the Peloponnesian War, the tyranny of the Thirty was established, and a
very large number of democratic citizens were driven into exile. The
Argives refused the Spartan demand for the surrender of some of these to
the Thirty (Diodorus xiv. 6).
Sec. 23. _one who is a barbarian-aye, and a woman_ ([Greek: _barbaron
anthr_opon kai tauta gynaika_]). This has been taken to refer (1) to
Artaxerxes and Artemisia. But [Greek: _kai tauta_] cannot be simply
[Greek: _pros tont_o_], and [Greek: _kai tauta gynaika_] must refer to the
same person as [Greek: _barbaron anthr_opon_]; (2) to Artaxerxes alone,
the words [Greek: _kai tauta gynaika_] being a gratuitous insult such as
it was customary for Athenians to level at any Persian; (3) to Artemisia
alone, [Greek: anthr_opos] being feminine here as often. It is not
possible to decide certainly between (2) and (3). Artemisia is more
prominent in the speech than the king, but it is the king who is referred
to in the next sentence.
Sec. 24. _rendered Athens weak_. The success of Sparta in the Peloponnesian
War was rendered possible, to a great extent, by the supply of funds from
Persia. In 401 Cyrus made his famous expedition against Artaxerxes II, and
Clearchus (with other generals) commanded the Greek troops which assisted
him. The death of Cyrus in the battle of Cunaxa in 401 put an end to his
rebellion.
Sec. 25. _rights of the rest of the world_. Weil suggests that it may have
been argued that to intervene in Rhodian affairs would be to break the
treaty made with the allies in 355 (about), at the end of the Social War,
whereby their independence was guaranteed.
Sec. 26. _Chalcedon_ was on the Asiatic shore of the Bosporus, and therefore
by the Peace of Antalcidas belonged to the king (see n. on Sec. 9). By the
same treaty, Selymbria, on the north coast of the Propontis, ought to have
been independent. The Byzantines, who had obtained their independence of
Athens in the Social War, were extending their influence greatly at this
time.
Sec. 27. _the treaty_: again the Peace of Antalcidas.
_even if there actually are such advisers_: or, 'even if any one actually
asserts the existence of such persons.'
Sec. 29. _two treaties_. The first must be the Peace of Callias (444 B.C.),
the terms of which are given in the Speech on the Embassy, Sec. 273. The
second was the Peace of Antalcidas.
Sec. 30. _the knowledge of what is right_. The parallel passage in Sec. 1 seems
to confirm this rendering, rather than the alternative, 'the intention to
do what is right.'
Sec. 33. _oligarchical_. This expression is partly directed at those who, in
opposing the exiled democrats, supported the oligarchs of Rhodes; and it
may be partly explained by the fact that the policy of Eubulus, who wished
to avoid all interferences which might lead to war, was particularly
satisfactory to the wealthier classes in Athens. But it was a common
practice to accuse an opponent of anti-democratic sentiments, and of
trying to get the better of the people by illegitimate means (cf. Speech
on Embassy, Sec. 314, &c.).
Sec. 35. Cf. Speech on Naval Boards, Sec. 41.
THE FIRST PHILIPPIC
Sec. 3. _the war with Sparta_. Probably the Boeotian War (378-371 B.C.), when
Athens supported Thebes against Sparta.
_in defence of the right_. The attempt of the Spartans to conquer Boeotia
was a violation of the Peace of Antalcidas (see n. on Speech for Rhodians,
Sec. 6). But Demosthenes' expression may be quite general in its meaning.
Sec. 4. _tribes_. Probably refers especially to the Thracians (see Introd. to
the Speech). The Paeonian and Illyrian chieftains also made alliance with
Athens in 356.
Sec. 17. _to Euboea_. See Speech for Megalopolitans, Sec. 14 n.
_to Haliartus_: in 395, when Athens sent a force to aid the Thebans
against the Spartans under Lysander. (For other allusions see Introd. to
the Speech.)
Sec. 19. _paper-armies_ ([Greek: epistolimaious ... dynameis]): lit. 'armies
existing in dispatches.'
Sec. 24. _Athens once maintained_, &c. The reference is to the Corinthian war
of 394-387 B.C. The Athenian general Iphicrates organized a mercenary
force of peltasts in support of Corinth, and did great damage to Sparta;
he was succeeded in the command by Chabrias. Nothing more is certainly
known of Polystratus than is told us here, though he may be referred to in
the Speech against Leptines, Sec. 84, as receiving honours from Athens.
_to Artabazus_. In 356 Chares was sent to oppose the revolted allies of
Athens, but being short of funds, assisted Artabazus in his rebellion
against Persia, and was richly rewarded. (See Introd. to Speech on Naval
Boards.)
Sec. 25. _spectators of these mysteries of generalship_ ([Greek: epoptai t_on
] [Greek: *_strat_egoumen_on_]). The word [Greek: _epopt_es_] is chiefly
used of spectators of the mysteries, and is here applied sarcastically to
the citizens whom Demosthenes desires to see what has hitherto been a
hidden thing from them--the conduct of their generals.
Sec. 26. _ten captains and generals, &c_. There was one general ([Greek:
_strat_egos_]) and one captain ([Greek: _taxiarchos_]) of infantry, and
one general of cavalry ([Greek: _phylarchos_]), for each of the ten
tribes. There were two regular masters of the horse ([Greek:
_hipparchoi_]), and a third appointed for the special command of the
Athenian troops in Lemnos. The generals ([Greek: _strat_egoi_]) had
various civil duties, among them the organization of the military
processions at the Panathenaea and other great festivals.
Sec. 27. _Menelaus_. Either a Macedonian chieftain, who had assisted the
Athenian commander Timotheus against Poteidaea in 364, and probably
received Athenian citizenship; or else Philip's half-brother Menelaus. But
there is no evidence that the latter ever served in the Athenian forces,
and probably the former is meant.
Sec. 31. _Etesian winds_. These blow strongly from the north over the Aegean
from July to September.
Sec. 33. _the whole force in its entirety_. So with Butcher's punctuation.
But it is perhaps better to place a comma after [Greek: _dynamin_], and
translate, 'after making ready ... soldiers, ships, cavalry--the entire
force complete--you bind them,' &c.
Sec. 34. See Introd. to the Speech. Geraestus was the southernmost most point
of Euboea. The 'sacred trireme', the Paralus, when conveying the Athenian
deputation to the Festival of Delos, put in on its way at Marathon, where
there was an altar of the Delian Apollo, to offer sacrifice.
Sec. 35. The festival of the Panathenaea was managed by the Athlothetae, who
were appointed by lot, and consequently could not be specially qualified;
whereas the stewards ([Greek: _epimel_etai_]) who assisted the Archon in
the management of the Dionysia, were at this time elected, presumably on
the ground of their fitness.
_an amount of trouble_ ([Greek: _ochlon_]). Possibly 'a larger crowd'. But
there is no point in mentioning the crowd; the point lies in the pains
taken; and Thucyd. vi. 24 ([Greek: _upo tou ochl_odous t_es
parhaskeu_es_]) confirms the rendering given.
Sec. 36. The choregus paid the expenses of a chorus at the Dionysiac (and
certain other) festivals. The gymnasiarchs, or stewards of the games,
managed the games and torch-races which formed part of the Panathenaea and
many other festivals. The offices were imposed by law upon men who
possessed a certain estate, but any one who felt that another could bear
the burden better might challenge him either to perform the duty or to
exchange property with him. (See Appendix to Goodwin's edition of
Demosthenes' Speech against Meidias.)
_independent freedmen_: lit. 'dwellers apart,' i.e. freedmen who no longer
lived with the master whose slaves they had been.
Sec. 43. _empty ships_. If these are the ships referred to in Olynth. III,
Section 4, the date of the First Philippic must be later than October 351
B.C.
Sec. 46. _promises_. The 'promises of Chares' became almost proverbial.
Sec. 47. _examination_, or 'audit'. A general, like every other responsible
official, had to report his proceedings, at the end of his term of office,
to a Board of Auditors, and might be prosecuted before a jury by any one
who was dissatisfied with his report.
Sec. 48. _negotiating with Sparta, &c_. As a matter of fact, Philip had
evidently come to an understanding with Thebes by this time; but he may
have caused some such rumours to be spread, in order to get rid of any
possible opposition from Sparta. The 'breaking-up of the free states'
probably refers to the desire of Sparta to destroy Megalopolis, which was
in alliance with Thebes.
_sent ambassadors to the king_. Arrian, ii. 14, mentions a letter of
Darius to Alexander, recalling how Philip had been in friendship and
alliance with Artaxerxes Ochus. It is possible, therefore, that the rumour
to which Demosthenes alludes had some foundation.
THE FIRST OLYNTHIAC
(_Note_.--Most of the allusions in the Olynthiacs are explained by the
Introduction to the First Philippic.)
Sec. 4. _power over everything, open or secret_. The translation generally
approved, 'power to publish or conceal his designs,' is hardly possible.
The [Greek: kai] in the phrase [Greek: rh_eta kai aporr_eta] (or [Greek:
arr_eta]) cannot be taken disjunctively here, when it is always
conjunctive in this phrase elsewhere, the whole phrase being virtually
equivalent to 'everything whatever'.
Sec. 5. _how he treated_, &c. The scholiast says that Philip killed the
traitors at Amphipolis first, saying that if they had not been faithful to
their own countrymen, they were not likely to be faithful to himself; and
that the traitors at Pydna, finding that they were not likely to be
spared, took sanctuary, and having been persuaded to surrender themselves
on promise of their lives, were executed nevertheless. Neither story is
confirmed by other evidence.
Sec. 8. _in aid of the Euboeans_: in 358 or 357. See Speech for
Megalopolitans, Sec. 14 n.
Sec. 13. _Magnesia_. There seems to have been a town of the same name as the
district.
_attacked the Olynthians_. This refers to the short invasion of 351 (see
vol. i, p. 70), not to that which is the subject of the Olynthiacs.
_Arybbas_ was King of the Molossi, and uncle of Philip's wife, Olympias.
Nothing is known of this expedition against him. He was deposed by Philip
in 343. (See vol. ii, p. 3.)
Sec. 17. _these towns_: the towns of the Chalcidic peninsula, over which
Olynthus had acquired influence. This sentence shows that Olynthus itself
had not yet been attacked.
Sec. 26. _But, my good Sir_, &c. This must be the objection of an imaginary
opponent. It can hardly be taken (as seems to be intended by Butcher) as
Demosthenes' reply to the question, 'Or some other power?' ('But, my good
Sir, the other power will not want to help him.') There is, however, much
to be said for Sandys's punctuation, [Greek: _ean m_e bo_eth_es_eth umeis
_e allos tis_], 'unless you or some other power go to their aid.' After
the death of Onomarchus in 352, the Phocians were incapable of
withstanding invasion without help.
THE SECOND OLYNTHIAC
Sec. 14. _Timotheus, &c_. In 364 an Athenian force under Timotheus invaded
the territory of the Olynthian League, and took Torone, Poteidaea, and
other towns, with the help of Perdiccas, King of Macedonia.
_ruling dynasty_: i.e. the dynasty of Lycophron and Peitholaus at Pherae.
(See Introd. to First Philippic.)
Sec. 28. _this war_: i.e. the war with Philip generally. The reference is
supposed to be to the conduct of Chares in 356 (cf. Phil. I, Section 24
ii.), though in fact it was against the revolted allies, not against
Philip, that he had been sent. Sigeum was a favourite resort of Chares,
and it is conjectured that he may have obtained possession of Lampsacus
and Sigeum (both on the Asiatic shore of the Hellespont) in 356. The
explanation of the conduct of the generals is to be found in the fact that
in Asia Minor they could freely appropriate prizes of war and plunder,
since under the terms of the Peace of Antalcidas, Athens could claim
nothing in Asia for her own.
Sec. 29. _taxes by Boards_. Each of the Boards constituted in 378-377 for the
collection of the war-tax (see vol. i, p. 31) had a leader or chairman
([Greek: __hegem_on_]), one of the 300 richest men in Athens, whose duty it
was to advance the sums required by the State, recovering them afterwards
from the other members of the Boards. Probably the Three Hundred were
divided equally among the 100 Boards, a leader, a 'second', and a 'third'
(Speech on Crown, Sec. 103) being assigned to each. The 'general' here
perhaps corresponds to the 'second'.
THE THIRD OLYNTHIAC
Sec. 4. _two or three years ago_ (lit. 'this is the third or fourth year
since). It was in November 352 B.C. If the present Speech was delivered
before November 349, not quite three years would have elapsed. (The Greek
words, [Greek: triton _he tetarton etos touti], must, on the analogy of
the Speech against Meidias, Sec. 13, against Stephanus, II. Sec. 13, and against
Aphobus, I. Sec. 24, &c., mean 'two or three', not 'three or four years
ago'). The vagueness of the expression is more likely to be due to the
date of the Third Olynthiac being not far short of three years from that
of the siege of Heraeon Teichos, than to the double-dating (on the one
hand by actual lapse of time, and on the other by archon-years--from July
to July--or by military campaigning seasons) which most commentators
assume to be intended here, but which seems to me over-subtle and unlike
Demosthenes.
_that year_: i.e. the archonship of Aristodemus, which ran from July 352
B.C. to July 351.
Sec. 5. _the mysteries_. These were celebrated from the 14th to the 27th of
Boedromion (late in September).
_Charidemus_, of Oreus in Euboea, was a mercenary leader who had served
many masters at different times--Athens, Olynthus, Cotys, and
Cersobleptes--and had played most of them false at some time or other. But
he was given the citizenship in 357 for the part which he had taken in
effecting the cession of the Chersonese to Athens, and was a favourite
with the people. He was sent on the occasion here referred to with ten
ships, for which he was to find mercenary soldiers.
Sec. 6. _with might ... power_. A quotation, probably from the text of the
treaty of alliance between Athens and Olynthus.
Sec. 8. _funds of the Phocians are exhausted_. The Phocian leader Phalaecus
had been using the temple-treasures of Delphi, but they were now
exhausted.
Sec. 10. _a Legislative Commission_: i.e. a Special Commission on the model
of the regular Commission which was appointed annually from the jurors for
the year (if the Assembly so decreed), and before which those who wished
to make or to oppose changes in the laws appeared, the proceedings taking
the form of a prosecution and defence of the laws in question. The
Assembly itself did not legislate, though it passed decrees, which had to
be consistent with the existing laws. As regards legislation, it merely
decided whether in any given year alterations in the laws should or should
not be allowed.
Sec. 11. _malingerers_. The scholiast says that the choregi were persuaded to
choose persons as members of their choruses, in order to enable them to
escape military service, choreutae being legally exempted. Other
exemptions also existed.
Sec. 12. _persons who proposed them_. This can only refer to Eubulus and his
party.
Sec. 20. _Corinthians and Megareans_. From the pseudo-Demosthenic Speech on
the Constitution ([Greek: _pe_ri suntaxe_os_]) and from Philochorus
(quoted in the Scholia of Didymus upon that Speech) it appears that the
Athenians had in 350 invaded Megara, under the general Ephialtes, and
forced the Megareans to agree to a delimitation of certain land sacred to
the two goddesses of Eleusis, which the Megareans had violated, perhaps
for some years past (see Speech against Aristocrates, Sec. 212). A scholiast
also refers to the omission by Corinth to invite the Athenians to the
Isthmian games, in consequence of which the Athenians sent an armed force
to attend the games. Probably this was also a recent occurrence, and due
to an understanding between Corinth and Megara.
Sec. 21. _my own namesake_: i.e. Demosthenes, who was a distinguished general
during the Peloponnesian War, and perished in the Sicilian expedition.
Sec. 24. _for forty-five years_: i.e. between the Persian and Peloponnesian
Wars, 476-431 B.C.
_the king_: i.e. Perdiccas II, who, however, took the side of Sparta
shortly after the beginning of the Peloponnesian War. He died in 413. (The
date of the beginning of his reign is unknown, but he did not become sole
king of the whole of Macedonia until 436.)
Sec. 27. _Spartans had been ruined_: sc. by the battles of Leuctra (in 371)
and Mantineia (in 362).
_Thebans had their hands full_, owing to the war with the Phocians, from
356 onwards.
Sec. 28. _in the war_, when Athens joined Thebes against Sparta (in 378).
'The allies' are those members of the Second Delian League (formed in 378)
who had been lost in the Social War which ended in or about 355, when
Athens was at peace with Thebes and Sparta. (See Introduction, vol. i, p.
9.)
Sec. 31. _procession at the Boedromia_. The Boedromia was a festival held in
September in honour of Apollo and Artemis Agrotera, Probably a procession
was not a regular part of the festival at this time. The importance which
the populace attached to such processions is illustrated by the Speech
against Timocrates, Sec. 161.
Sec. 34. _is it then paid service, &c_.: almost, 'do you then suggest that we
should _earn_ our money?'
Sec. 35. _adding or subtracting_: sc. from the sums dispensed by the State to
the citizens.
_somebody's mercenaries_. The reference is probably to the successes of
Charidemus when first sent (see Introd. to Olynthiacs).
ON THE PEACE
Sec. 5. _disturbances in Euboea_. Plutarchus of Eretria applied for Athenian
aid against Callias of Chalcis, who was attacking him with the aid of
Macedonian troops. Demosthenes was strongly opposed to granting the
request, but it was supported by Eubulus and Meidias, and a force was sent
under Phocion, probably early in 348 (though the chronology has been much
debated, and some place the expedition in 350 or 349). Owing to the
premature action or the treachery of Plutarchus at Tamynae (where the
Athenian army was attacked), Phocion had some difficulty in winning a
victory. Plutarchus afterwards seized a number of Athenian soldiers, and
Athens had actually to ransom them. Phocion's successor, Molossus, was
unsuccessful. When peace was made in the summer of 348, the Euboeans
became for the most part independent of Athens, and were regarded with
ill-feeling by Athens for some years. There is no proof that the proposers
of the expedition were bribed, as Demosthenes alleges.
Sec. 6. _Neoptolemus_. See Speech on Embassy, Sec.Sec. 12, 315.
Sec. 8. _public service_: i.e. as trierarch or choregus or gymnasiarch, &c.
See n. on Phil. I. Sec. 36.
Sec. 10. _there were some_ : i.e. Aeschines and his colleagues. (See Introd.)
_Thespiae and Plataeae_. See Speech for Megalopolitans, Section 4 n.
Sec. 14. _self-styled Amphictyons_. The Amphictyonic Council represented the
ancient Amphictyonic League of Hellenic tribes (now differing widely in
importance, but equally represented on the Council), and was supreme in
all matters affecting the Temple of Apollo at Delphi. (See n. on Speech on
Crown, Sec. 148.) The Council summoned by Philip was open to criticism (1)
because only certain members of it were present, of whom the Thebans and
Thessalians were the chief, (2) because Philip had been given the vote of
the dispossessed Phocians.
Sec. 15. _however stupid, &c_. It had been conventional for over a century to
apply this adjective to the Boeotians, and therefore to the Thebans. For a
more favourable view, see W. Rhys Roberts, _Ancient Boeotians_, chap. i.
Sec. 16. _Oropus_. See Speech for Megalopolitans, Sec. ii n.
Sec. 18. _Argives, &c_. See Speech for Megalopolitans throughout (with
Introd.).
_those whom they have exiled_: especially the refugees from Orchomenus and
Coroneia. See vol. i, p. 124.
_Phocian fugitives_. The Amphictyonic Council had recently declared that
these had been guilty of sacrilege, and might be seized wherever they
might be.
Sec. 20. _all that they themselves had toiled for_: i.e. the conquest of the
Phocians in the Sacred War.
Sec. 22. _some persons_: i.e. Aeschines and others who tried to excuse
Philip's treatment of the Phocians to the Athenian people.
Sec. 23. _admission ... Delphi_. The Phocians had formerly contrived their
exclusion from the Amphictyonic meeting and from the temple and oracle of
Delphi. The Council now restored them, and excluded the Phocians.
Sec. 24. _refuse to submit_: reading [Greek: (_oud) otioun upomeinai_.] The
insertion of [Greek: _oude_] (after Cobet) seems necessary, [Greek:
_otioun upomeinai_] alone would mean 'face any risk', but this would be
contradicted by the next clause. To translate, 'who think that we should
face any risk, but do not see that the risk would be one of war,' is to
narrow the meaning of [Greek: _otioun_] unduly.
Sec. 25. _Treaty of Peace_: i.e. the Peace of Philocrates.
_Cardians_. The Athenians claimed Cardia (the key of the Chersonese on the
Thracian side) as an ally, though in fact it was expressly excluded from
the towns ceded to Athens by Cersobleptes in 357, and had made alliance
with Philip in 352.
_prince of Caria_. See Speech for Rhodians (with Introd.).
_drive our vessels to shore_: a regular form of ancient piracy (see Speech
on Chersonese, Sec. 28). The Byzantines drove the Athenian corn-ships into
their own harbour. The victims were relieved of their money or their corn.
_shadow at Delphi_: i.e. the empty privilege (as Demosthenes here chooses
to represent it) of membership of the Amphictyonic League and Council, now
claimed by Philip.
THE SECOND PHILIPPIC
Sec. 1. _sympathetic_: i.e. towards other Greek states, desirous of securing
independence.
Sec. 2. _Alexander_, &c. Alexander of Macedon was sent by Mardonius, the
Persian commander, to offer Athens alliance with Persia on favourable
terms. Demosthenes has confused the order of events, and speaks as if this
message was brought before the battle of Salamis. The Athenians left the
city twice, before the battle of Salamis and before that of Plataeae; it
was after Salamis that Alexander was sent (Herod. viii. 140, &c.).
Sec. 14. _fortify Elateia_. This would be a menace to Thebes (cf. Speech on
the Crown, Sec.Sec. 174, 175). Elateia commands the road from Thermopylae to
Thebes.
Sec. 19. _well-balanced_ ([Greek: _s_ophronousi_]), or 'free from passion',
i.e. not liable to be carried away by ambition or cupidity as the Thebans
were. This is different from mere 'good sense' ([Greek: _syphronein, noun
echea_]). For Theban 'stupidity', see Speech on Peace, Sec. 15 (and n.).
Sec. 22. _Council of Ten_ ([Greek: _dekadarchian_]). It is clear that some
sort of oligarchical government, nominated by Philip, is referred to; but
the relation of this to the tetrarchies mentioned in the Speech on the
Chersonese, Sec. 26, as established by Philip, is uncertain. These
corresponded to the four tribes or divisions of Thessaly (Thessaliotis,
Phthiotis, Pelasgiotis, Histiaeotis); and this is confirmed by a statement
in Theopompus' forty-fourth book, to which Harpocration (s.v. [Greek:
_dekadarchia_]) refers. Harpocration states that Philip did not establish
a decadarchy in Thessaly; and if he is right, then either (a) Demosthenes
purposely used an inaccurate word, in order to suggest to the Messenians
the idea of a government like that of the Councils of Ten established some
sixty years before by Sparta in the towns subject to her; or (b) the text
is wrong, and [Greek: _dekadarchian_] is a misreading of [Greek:
DARCHIAN], in which [Greek: D] was the numeral (= 4), and the whole stood
for [Greek: _tetrarchian_]. As to (a), it is difficult to suppose that the
Messenians would not know what had happened in Thessaly so well that the
innuendo would fall flat. There is no evidence that 'decadarchy' could be
used simply as a synonym for 'oligarchy'. As to (b), the supposed
corruption is possible; but then we are left with [Greek: _tetrarchian_]
where we should expect [Greek: _tetrarchias_]: for there is no parallel to
[Greek: _tetrarchia_] (sing.) in the sense of 'a system of tetrarchies'.
It is, however, quite possible that Demosthenes was thinking especially of
the Thessalians of Pherae, and of the particular tetrarchy established
over them: and this seems on the whole the best solution. If, on the other
hand, Harpocration is wrong, the reference here may be to a Council of
Ten, either established previously to the tetrarchies, and superseded by
them, or else coexistent with and superior to them; in either case, since
the singular is used, this decadarchy must have been a single government
over the whole of Thessaly (or perhaps of the district about Pherae only),
not a number of Councils, one in each city or division of Thessaly.
(Theopompus' forty-fourth book probably dealt with 342 B.C., two years
after the present speech, though before the Speech on the Chersonese; but
we are not told that he assigned the establishment of the tetrarchies to
that year.)
Sec. 25. _find yourselves slaves_: lit. 'find your master.'
Sec. 28. _by yourselves_: i.e. in the absence of the ambassadors from Philip
and other States.
_who conveyed the promises_: i.e. Ctesiphon, Aristodemus, and Neoptolemus
(see Speech on Embassy, Sec.Sec. 12, 94, 315, &c.): but Demosthenes has probably
Aeschines also in view.
Sec. 30. _water-drinker_. See Speech on Embassy, Sec. 46.
Sec. 32. _secure myself as good a hearing_. Most editions accept this
rendering of [Greek: _emaut_o logon poi_es-o_]. But though [Greek: _logon
didonai_] = 'grant a hearing,' and [Greek: _logon tychein_] = 'get a
hearing,' [Greek: _logon eaut_o poiein_] is strange for 'secure oneself a
hearing', and the passage regularly quoted from the Speech against
Aristocrates, Sec. 81, is not parallel, since [Greek: _tout_o_] in that
passage is not a reflexive pronoun, and [Greek: _logon pepoi_eke_] almost
= [Greek: _logon ded_oki_]. Possibly the text is corrupt, and we should
either read [Greek: _psogon_] (with H. Richards) or [Greek: _emautou_]
('make you take as much account of me as of my opponents').
_further claim_: since an attack on the part of Demosthenes would incite
them to make out a plausible case for Philip once more, and so earn his
gratitude.
ON THE EMBASSY
[The literal translation of the title is 'On the misconduct as
ambassador'.]
Sec. 1. _drawing your lots_. The jurors who were to serve in each trial were
selected by lot out of the total number of jurors for the year.
Sec. 2. _one of those_: i.e. Timarchus (see Introd.).
_supremacy_. The sovereignty of the people was exercised to a great extent
through the law-courts, the jury being always large enough to be fairly
representative of popular opinion, though probably there was generally a
rather disproportionate preponderance of poorer men among the jurors, the
payment being insufficient to attract others. (See Introduction, vol. i,
pp. 18, 19, 23.)
Sec. 11. _the Ten Thousand_: the General Assembly of the Arcadians at
Megalopolis.
Sec. 13. _he came to me_, &c. Aeschines denies this, saying that it would
have been absurd, when he knew that Demosthenes and Philocrates had acted
together throughout (see Introd.).
Sec. 16. _in the very presence_, &c.: contrast Speech on the Crown,
Sec. 23 (and see n. there). Aeschines states that he was in fact replying to
inflammatory speeches made by orators who pointed to the Propylaea, and
appealed to the memory of ancestral exploits; and that he simply urged
that it was possible for the Athenians to copy the wisdom of their
forefathers without giving way to an unseasonable passion for strife.
Sec. 17. _had again acted_: i.e. as on the First Embassy, if the reading is
correct (or perhaps, 'had committed a fresh series of wrongful acts'). But
possibly [Greek: _peprhakot_on_] is right, 'had sold fresh concessions' to
Philip.
Sec. 20. Aeschines replies that every one expected Philip to turn against
Thebes; and that for the rest, he was only reporting the gossip of the
Macedonian camp, where the representatives of many states were gathered
together, and not making promises at all. It is noteworthy, however, that
in the Speech on the Peace, Sec. 10, shortly after the events in question,
when the speeches made would be fresh in every one's memory, Demosthenes
gives the same account of his opponent's assertions; and Aeschines
probably said something very like what is attributed to him.
Sec. 21. _debt due to the god_: i.e. the value of the Temple-treasure of
Delphi, which the Phocians had plundered.
Sec. 30. _for however contemptible_, &c. The argument seems to be this. 'You
must not say that a man like Aeschines could not have brought about such
vast results. Athens may employ inferior men, but any one who represents
Athens has to deal with great affairs, and so his acts may have great
consequences. And again, although it may have been Philip who actually
ruined the Phocians, and although Aeschines could never have done it
alone, still he did his best to help.'
Sec. 31. _the Town Hall_, or Prytaneum, where the Prytanes (the acting
Committee of the Council) met, and other magistrates had their offices.
_Timagoras_ was accused (according to Xenophon) by his colleague Leon of
having conspired with Pelopidas of Thebes against the interests of Athens,
when on a mission to the court of Artaxerxes in 357. In Sec. 137 Demosthenes
also states that he received large sums of money from Artaxerxes.
Sec. 36. Aeschines denies that he wrote the letter for Philip, and his denial
is fairly convincing.
Sec. 40. _a talent_. According to Aristotle (_Eth. Nic_. v. 7) the
conventional amount payable as ransom was one mina per head. But from Sec.
169 it appears that the Macedonians sometimes asked for more than this.
_laudable ambition_: i.e. to get credit for having thought of the ransom
of the prisoners.
Sec. 47. _handed in_: either to the Clerk or to the Proedroi (the committee
of Chairmen of the Assembly).
Sec. 51. Aeschines states that Philip's invitation was declined because it
was suggested that Philip would keep the soldiers sent as hostages.
Sec. 65. _on our way to Delphi_. Demosthenes had been one of the Athenian
representatives at the meeting of the Amphictyonic Council at Delphi this
year.
_gave its vote_, &c. After the battle of Aegospotami at the end of the
Peloponnesian War, the representative of Thebes proposed to the Spartans
and their allies that Athens should be destroyed and its inhabitants sold
into slavery.
Sec. 70. _read this law over_: i.e. that the herald might proclaim it after
him.
Sec. 72. For the Spartans see Sec. 76. The Phocians had treated the Athenians
badly when Proxenus was sent to Thermopylae (see Introd. to Speech on
Peace). Hegesippus may have opposed the acceptance of Philip's invitation
to the Athenians to join him. Aeschines (on the Embassy, Sec.Sec. 137, 138)
mentions no names in connexion with the refusal, but represents it as the
sacrifice of a unique opportunity of saving the Phocians (cf. Sec. 51 n.).
Sec. 76. _deceit and cunning, and of nothing else_ ([Greek: _pasa apat_e_]).
The argument is, 'Aeschines will try to allege wrongful acts on the part
of the Phocians; but there was no time for such acts in the five days; and
this proves that there were no such acts to justify their ruin, and that
their overthrow was due to nothing but trickery.' This is better than to
translate '_every kind of_ deceit and trickery was concocted for the ruin
of the Phocians'; for this is not the point, nor is it what would be
inferred from the fact that there was only a five-days' interval between
the speech of Aeschines and the capitulation of the Phocians. There is no
need to emend to [Greek: _h_e pasa apat_e_].
_on account of the Peace_: i.e. of the negotiations for the Peace, before
it was finally arranged.
_all that they wished_: viz. the restoration of the Temple of Delphi to
their kinsmen, the Dorians of Mount Parnassus.
Sec. 78. _four whole months_: in reality, three months and a few days.
Sec. 81. _Phocian people_: i.e. those who were left in Phocis, as distinct
from the exiles just referred to.
Sec. 86. _of Diophantus_. In 352, when Philip had been repulsed by
Onomarchus, Diophantus proposed that public thanksgivings should be held
(see Introd. to First Philippic).
_of Callisthenes_: in 346, after the Phocians had surrendered to Philip.
_the sacrifice to Heracles_: perhaps one of the two festivals which were
respectively held at Marathon and at Cynosarges.
Sec. 99. _constitutional_: lit. 'an excuse for a citizen,' under a
constitution by which no one was compelled to enter public life, and any
one who did so without the requisite capacity had to take the
responsibility for his errors.
Sec. 103. _impeached_. An impeachment was brought before the Council (or,
more rarely, the Assembly). The procedure was only applied to cases of
extraordinary gravity, and particularly to what would now be called cases
of treason.
Sec. 114. _by torture_. The evidence of slaves might be given under torture,
in response to a challenge from one or other of the parties to a suit. The
most diverse opinions as to the value of such evidence are expressed by
the orators, according to the requirements of their case. The consent of
both sides was necessary; and in a very large number of cases, one side or
the other appears to have refused to allow evidence to be taken in this
way.
_was going_: i.e. to Philip.
Sec. 118. _accept his discharge_. There seems to be a play on two senses of
the verb [Greek: aphienai], viz. 'to discharge from the obligations of a
contract', and 'to acquit'.
Sec. 120. _Why, this is the finest_, &c. The expression ([Greek: touto gar
esti to lamprhon]) recurs in Sec. 279, a closely parallel passage, and need
not be regarded as an interpolation in either case. The interpretation
given seems slightly preferable, and is approved by Weil. It is almost
equally possible to translate the Greek by 'such is the brilliant defence
which he offers'; but perhaps this does not suit Sec. 279 so well.
_stand up_. Apparently Aeschines declined the invitation, which was quite
within the custom of the Athenian courts. Either of the principal parties
could ask the other questions, and have the answers taken down as
evidence.
_cases that have all_, &c. The reference is to the prosecution of
Timarchus, when advanced in age, for offences committed in early youth.
There may also be an allusion to Aeschines' early career as an actor.
Sec. 122. _declined on oath_. An elected official could refuse to serve, if
he took an oath that there was some good reason (such as illness) for
excusing him.
Sec. 126. _though not elected_. Aeschines (on the Embassy, Sec. 94) replies that
in fact the commission was renewed at a second meeting of the Assembly,
and that he was then well enough to go and was elected. (That there was a
second election of ambassadors is confirmed by Demosthenes' own statement
in Sec. 172 of the present speech, that he himself was twice elected and
twice refused to serve.)
Sec. 128. _Thesmothetae_: the six archons who did not hold the special
offices of archon eponymus, polemarch, or king archon.
_Aeschines went_, &c. To have refused to be present would really have been
to make a political demonstration against Thebes, which would have had
perilous results. Aeschines defends himself on the ground that in his view
the Peace was no disadvantage to Athens, so that he might well join in the
honours paid to the Gods.
Sec. 129. _Metroon_. The temple of the Great Mother (Cybele), which was the
Athenian record-office.
_the name of Aeschines_: i.e. its removal from the list of ambassadors.
Sec. 131. _in their interest_. If the words are not corrupt, the meaning is
probably 'in the interest of Philip and the Thebans'; or possibly, 'in
reference to these matters.'
Sec. 136. _as his informant_. The text is possibly corrupt, though as it
stands it might perhaps bear the meaning given, if [Greek: hyparchei] were
understood with [Greek: autos]. Others (with or without emendation) take
the sense to be 'to manage his business ... just as he would manage it in
person '.
Sec. 137. For Timagoras see Sec. 31 n.
Sec. 144. _summon Philip's envoys_: i.e. in order to report the decision of
the Assembly, and so close the matter.
Sec. 147. _ask him whether_, &c. The argument seems to be this 'if Aeschines
was the ambassador of a city which had been victorious against Philip, the
latter would naturally wish to buy easy terms of peace; and Aeschines
might undertake to procure such terms, without committing a particularly
heinous offence, since he would only be getting some advantage for himself
out of the general good fortune of his country. But to secure advantages
for himself at his country's expense, when his country was already
suffering disaster, would be far worse. And as Aeschines complains that
the generals had incurred disaster, he convicts himself of the worse
offence.'
Sec. 148. The _Tilphossaeum_ was apparently a mountain near Lake Copais in
Boeotia. The town which Strabo calls Tilphusium may have been on the
mountain. Neones, or Neon, was a Phocian village; Hedyleion, a mountain in
Boeotia.
Sec. 149. _Ah! he will say_, &c. Either the words are interpolated, or there
is a lacuna. The objection is nowhere refuted.
Sec. 156. Doriscus, &c. The places mentioned did not really belong to Athens,
but to Cersobleptes, who was being assisted by Athenian troops, so that,
strictly speaking, Philip was within his rights; and in fact (according to
Aeschines), Cersobleptes and the Sacred Mountain were taken by Philip the
day before the Athenians and their allies swore to the Peace at Athens.
Sec. 162. _Eucleides_ had been sent to protest against Philip's attack upon
Cersobleptes in 346 (see vol. i, p. 122). Philip replied that he had not
yet been officially informed by the Athenian ambassadors of the conclusion
of the Peace, and was therefore not yet bound by it.
Sec. 166. _procure their ransom_: i.e. from the various Macedonians who had
captured them, or to whom they had been given or sold.
Sec. 176. _committed to writing_, &c. Formal evidence (as distinct from the
mere assertions of a speaker) was written down, and the witness was asked
to swear to it. A witness who was called upon might swear that he had no
knowledge of the matter in question ([Greek: _exomnysthai_]). By writing
down his evidence and swearing to it, Demosthenes took the risk of
prosecution for perjury.
Sec. 180. _might be proved in countless ways_: or 'would need a speech of
infinite length '. But as [Greek: _kai_] and not [Greek: _de_] follows, I
slightly prefer the former rendering. (The latter is supported by the
Third Philippic, Sec. 60, but there the next clause is connected by [Greek:
_de_].)
_Ergophilus_ was heavily fined in 362 (see Speech against Aristocrates, Sec.
104); Cephisodotus in 358 (ibid. Sec. 167, and Aeschines against Ctesiphon, Sec.
52); Timomachus went into exile in 360 to escape condemnation (against
Aristocrates, Sec. 115, &c.). Ergocles was perhaps the friend of Thrasybulas
(see Lysias, Orations xxviii, xxix), and may have been condemned for his
conduct in Thrace, as well as for malversation at Halicarnassus. Dionysius
is unknown.
Sec. 187. _has got beyond_, &c.: an ironical way of saying that he has so
much overdone his application to himself of the title of (prospective)
'benefactor' of Athens, that another word (e.g. 'deceiver') would be more
appropriate. The word [Greek: _psychrhon_] is (at least by Greek literary
critics) applied to strong expressions out of place, and here also,
probably, of an exaggerated phrase which falls flat. This is perhaps the
best interpretation of a very difficult passage.
Sec. 191. For Timagoras, see Sec. 31 n. Tharrex and Smicythus are unknown.
Adeimantus was one of the generals at Aegospotami, the only Athenian
prisoner spared by Lysander, and on that account suspected of treason by
the Athenians, and prosecuted by Conon (called 'the elder', to distinguish
him from his grandson, who was a contemporary of Demosthenes).
Sec. 194. guest-friend. The term ([Greek: xenos]) was applied to the
relationship (more formal than that of simple friendship) between citizens
of different states, who were bound together by ties of hospitality and
mutual goodwill.
Sec. 196. _the Thirty_: i.e. the 'Thirty Tyrants' who ruled Athens (with the
support of Sparta) for a few months in 403. See n. on Sec. 277.
Sec. 198. Aeschines warmly denies this story. He says that Demosthenes tried
to bribe Aristophanes of Olynthus to swear that it was true, and that the
woman was his own wife. He adds that the jury, on an appeal from Eubulus,
refused to let Demosthenes complete the story.
Sec. 199. _initiations_: see Speech on Crown, Sec.Sec. 259 ff., with notes.
Sec. 200. _played the rogue_. The scholiast says that clerks were sometimes
bribed to alter the laws and decrees which they read to the Court; and a
magistrates' clerk had doubtless plenty of opportunities for conniving at
petty frauds.
Sec. 204. _should not have been sworn to_. This is out of chronological order
as it stands, and emendations have been proposed, but unnecessarily.
Sec. 209. _would not have him for your representative_: in the question about
Athenian rights at Delos. See Introduction to the Speech.
Sec. 213. _I have no further time, &c_.: lit. 'no one will pour water for me'
into the water-clock, by which all trials were regulated.
Sec. 221. _consider_, &c. There is an anacoluthon in the Greek, which may be
literally translated, 'Consider, if, where I who am absolutely guiltless
was afraid of being ruined by them--what ought these men themselves, the
actual criminals, to suffer?'
Sec. 222. _get money out of you_: i.e. to be bought off.
Sec. 230. _choregus and trierarch_: see Introd. to Speech on Naval Boards,
and n. on Philippic I. Sec. 36.
Sec. 231. _all was well_ ([Greek: eupenespai]). The reading is almost
certainly wrong. Weil rightly demands some word contrasting with [Greek:
agnoein] ('did not understand his country') in the corresponding clause.
Sec. 237. _vase-cases_: i.e. boxes to contain bottles of oil or perfume for
toilet use.
Sec. 245. _the cock-pit_. That this is the meaning seems to be proved by the
words of Aeschines (against Timarchus, Sec. 53); otherwise the natural
translation would be 'to the bird-market'. Cocks were no doubt sold in the
bird-market; but Aeschines refers directly to cock-fighting, not to the
purchase of the birds.
Sec. 246. _hack-writers_: lit. 'speech-writers,' who composed speeches for
litigants, and no doubt padded them out with quotations from poets, as
well as with rhetorical commonplaces. Demosthenes taunts Aeschines
particularly with ransacking unfamiliar plays, instead of those he knew
well.
Sec. 249. _reared up... greatness_: or possibly, 'reared up all these sons of
hers.'
_Hero-Physician_. See Speech on the Crown, Sec. 129 n.
_Round Chamber_, in the Prytaneum or Town Hall (see Sec. 31 n.).
Sec. 252. _at the risk of his own life_. He tried to avoid the risk by
feigning madness. Salamis was in the hands of the Megareans, and the
Athenians had become so weary of their unsuccessful attempts to recover
it, that they decreed the penalty of death upon any one who proposed to
make a fresh attempt. The verses, however, which are quoted in the text,
are probably derived not from the poem which Solon composed for this
purpose, but from another of his political poems.
Sec. 255. _with a cap on your head_. Plutarch (Solon 82 c) says that 'Solon
burst into the market-place suddenly, with a cap on his head'. The cap was
intended to suggest that he had just returned from Salamis, since it was
the custom to wear a cap only when on a journey, or in case of illness
(of. Plato, _Republic_, iii. 406_d_). There may possibly be an allusion
also to Aeschines' own alleged sickness (Sec. 136 above), but this is very
doubtful. The words more probably mean, 'however closely you copy Solon'
(as you copied his attitude in speaking), 'when you run about declaiming
against me.'
Sec. 257. _accepted the challenge_. At the examination before the Board of
Auditors (Logistae) the question was almost certainly put, whether any one
present wished to challenge the report of the ambassador under
examination.
Sec. 259. _claim_ ([Greek: axioumenoi]): or, 'are thought worthy'; but the
first sense is much better in the parallel passage in Sec. 295, and this
'middle' use seems to be sufficiently attested, though the active voice is
used in the same sense in Sec. 338.
Sec. 260. _paramount position_: i.e. among the tribes of North Greece
(Magnetes, Perrhaebi, &c.).
Sec. 264. _concluded the war, &c_. In 383 B.C. In fact, however, they only
obtained peace by joining the Spartan alliance.
Sec. 271. _Arthmius_: see Philippic III. Sec. 42 (and note).
Sec. 273. _Callias_, in 444 B.C. Cf. Speech for the Rhodians, Sec. 29. The
Chelidonian Islands lay off the south coast of Lycia, the Cyanean rocks at
the northern mouth of the Bosporus.
Sec. 277. _Epicrates_ was sent as ambassador to Persia early in the fourth
century, and received large presents. According to Plutarch he escaped
condemnation; but he may have been tried more than once. The comic poets
make fun of his long beard.
_who brought the people back from the Peiraeus_. Thrasybulus occupied the
Peiraeus in 403, secured the expulsion of the Thirty Tyrants from Athens,
and restored the democracy.
Sec. 278. _the decree_: i.e. the decree by which Epicrates and his colleagues
were condemned.
Sec. 279. _for this is the splendid thing_: cf. Sec. 120 n.
Sec. 280. _exiled_ and _punished_. We should perhaps (with Weil) read [Greek:
_e] ('or') for [Greek: kai] ('and').
_descendant of Harmodius_: i.e. Proxenus, who had been only recently
condemned, and is therefore not named.
Sec. 281. _another priestess_. According to the scholiast, the reference is
to Ninus, a priestess of Sabazios, who was prosecuted by Menecles for
making love-potions for young men. The connexion of this offence with the
meetings of the initiated is left to be understood.
Sec. 282. _the burden undertaken_. Such burdens as the duties of choregus,
trierarch, &c., might be voluntarily undertaken, as they were by
Demosthenes (see n. on Philippic I. Sec. 36).
Sec. 287. _Cyrebion_, or 'Light-as-Chaff', was the nickname of Epicrates,
Aeschines' brother-in-law (not the Epicrates of Sec. 277). _as a reveller_,
no doubt in some Dionysiac revel, in which it was not considered decent to
take part without a mask. (The original purpose of masks, however, was not
to conceal one's identity from motives of shame, though Demosthenes
suggests it as a motive here.)
_were water flowing upstream_. A half-proverbial expression implying that
the world was being turned upside-down, when such a person could prosecute
for such offences.
Sec. 290. _Hegesilaus_ was one of the generals sent to Euboea to help
Plutarchus; cf. Speech on the Peace, Sec. 5 n. He was accused of abetting
Plutarchus in the deception which he practised upon Athens. For
Thrasybulus, cf. Sec. 277.
_the primary question_: i.e. of the guilt or innocence of the defendant.
If he was pronounced guilty, the question of sentence (or damages) had to
be argued and decided separately.
Sec. 295. _claim to be_: cf. n. on Sec. 259.
_churning the butter_ ([Greek: etyrheue]): i.e. concocting the plot. (For
the metaphor cf. Aristophanes, _Knights_ 479.)
Sec. 299. _Zeus and Dione_. These names show that the oracles referred to
were probably given at Dodona.
Sec. 303. _oath of the young soldiers_. When the young Athenian came of age,
he received a shield and spear in the temple of Aglaurus, and swore to
defend his country and to uphold its constitution (cf. Lycurgus, _Against
Leocrates_, Sec. 76).
Sec. 314. _keeping step with Pythocles_, who was a tall man, while Aeschines
was short.
Sec. 326. _Drymus and Panactum_ were on the border between Boeotia and
Attica. Nothing else is known of the expedition.
Sec. 332. _Chares_. See nn. on Philippic I. Sec.Sec. 24, 46; Olynthiac II. Sec. 28,
and Introductions.
Sec. 333. _of one of whom_, &c.: i.e. of Philip (see Sec. 111 ff., and Introd.
to Speech on the Peace).
Sec. 342. _Euthycrates_. See Introd. to Olynthiacs.
ON THE CHERSONESE
Sec. 9. The argument is, 'if Philip is not committing hostilities so long as
he keeps away from Attica, Diopeithes is not doing so, so long as he keeps
away from Macedonia, and only operates in Thrace.'
_drive the vessels_, &c. See Speech on the Peace, Sec. 25 n.
Sec. 14. _passing the time_: i.e. until a convenient season for an attack
arrives.
_those who are on the spot_: i.e. in Thrace, and who had doubtless sent
messages to Athens. Others think that the words mean 'those who are here
from Thrace'.
_Etesian winds_. See First Philippic, Sec. 31 n.
_infatuation_: i.e. hostility to Athens.
Sec. 16. _punish the settlers_: i.e. those who were sent with Diopeithes and
demanded admission to Cardia.
Sec. 18. _Chalcis_, in Euboea (see Introd.).
Sec. 21. _keep our hands ... revenues_: a reference to the distributions of
Festival-Money (see Third Olynthiac, with Introduction and notes).
_contributions of the allies_. This interpretation seems on the whole
better warranted than 'contributions promised to Diopeithes'.
Sec. 24. _I consent to any penalty_: lit. *'I assess my own penalty at
anything'--a metaphor from the practice of the law-courts, which allowed a
convicted prisoner to propose an alternative penalty to that suggested by
the prosecutor.
_Erythraeans_: Erythrae was on the coast of Asia Minor, opposite Chios.
Sec. 25. _benevolences_: the same word as was used of the forced
contributions levied by English kings.
Sec. 27. _surrendering_: i.e. to his soldiers, to be plundered (if the phrase
is meant to convey anything but a vague accusation).
Sec. 28. _wax-tablet_: i.e. a summons.
_so many ships_. The critics of Diopeithes must have proposed the sending
of a definite force to control him.
Sec. 29. _a dispatch-boat_: lit. 'the _Paralus_'. This ship, and the
_Salaminia_, were the two vessels regularly employed on public errands.
_spitefulness_: i.e. towards Diopeithes.
Sec. 30. _Chares_: see references in n. on Speech on Embassy, Sec. 332.
_Aristophon_. The reference may be to his conduct as general in the early
days of the war with Philip about Amphipolis. His activity as a statesman
began as far back as 403, and he was one of the most influential
politicians in Athens from about 361 to 354.
Sec. 31. _losing something_: _sc_. a scapegoat whom you could punish.
Sec. 40. _Euthycrates_, &c. See Introd. to Olynthiacs.
Sec. 44. _wretched hamlets_ ([Greek: kak_on]): lit. 'evils' or 'miseries';
but the word is possibly corrupt. (The original reading may possibly have
been [Greek: kalyb_on].) According to the scholiast, Drongilum and Cabyle
are near Amphipolis and the Strymon; but others assign different
localities to them. Masteira is quite unknown.
Sec. 45. _pit of destruction_ ([Greek: barhathrh_o]). This was literally the
pit into which the bodies of condemned criminals were thrown at Athens.
_silos_: underground store-houses for grain, such as were found in Ceos
not many years ago, and may still be in use.
Sec. 46. _irremediable_ ([Greek: an_ekeston]). The reading of two good
manuscripts [Greek: aneikaston] (otherwise only known as a late Greek
word) may be correct. If so, it may mean 'unparalleled', or
'inexplicable'.
Sec. 57. The meaning is, that by denouncing those who propose active measures
now, they are preparing the way in order to prosecute them so soon as you
find the war burdensome; whereas they should themselves be prosecuted for
letting things go as far as they have gone.
Sec. 59. _Oreus_. See Introd.
_Pheraeans_, in 344. See Introd. to Second Philippic; and cf. Third
Philippic, Sec. 12.
_compromise_. Slavery seems to be ironically regarded as a compromise
between activity and quiescence.
Sec. 63. _robbed of at an earlier period_. The sense must either be this, or
else 'all that you have lost in open war '. In either case emendation is
required.
Sec. 70. _trierarch and choregus_. Demosthenes was choregus in 348, and
trierarch in 363, 359, and 357.
Sec. 74. _Timotheus_: in 358, when Athens liberated Euboea from the Thebans.
Cf. First Philippic, Sec. 17, First Olynthiac, Sec. 8. The effect of Timotheus'
speech was such that the expedition started within three days. (Speech
against Androtion, Sec. 14.)
Sec. 75. _best counsel that he can_. The text is probably corrupt; but this
was probably the sense of the original.
THE THIRD PHILIPPIC
Sec. 2. _actively at work_: the reference is to Diopeithes (see Speech on
Chersonese, Sec. 57).
Sec.Sec. 4, 5. Passages are repeated from the Speech on the Chersonese, Sec. 4, and
First Philippic, Sec. 2.
Sec. 8. _not to defraud us_: i.e. by making statements which he is not
prepared to act upon.
Sec. 11. _as though visiting his allies_. This is not true, though envoys
from the Phocians, as from most other Greek states of importance, were in
Philip's camp. With the whole passage, cf. Speech on Embassy, Sec.Sec. 20 ff.
Sec. 12. _Pherae_. See Speech on Chersonese, Sec. 59 n. For Oreus see Introd. to
Speech on Chersonese, and Sec. 33 and 59 ff. of this Speech.
Sec. 15. _Serrhium, &c_. See Introd. to Speech on Peace.
_he had sworn to a Peace_. This is untrue; see Speech on Embassy, Sec. 156,
where it is part of the charge against Aeschines' party, that they had
enabled Philip to take these places _before_ he had sworn to the Peace.
Sec.16. _religion_: with special reference here to the sanctity of the oath.
_into the Chersonese_: i.e. to help Cardia. The claim of Athens to Cardia
was not good, and it appears from the Speech of Hegesippus against
Halonnesus, Sec. 2, that the Athenians had recognized the independence of the
town.
Sec. 18. _if anything should happen_: e.g. the outbreak of open war, or (more
probably) a defeat.
Sec. 23. _seventy-three years_: i.e. 476-404 B. c.
_thirty years save one_: i.e. 404-376 B.C. (in the latter year Chabrias
defeated the Spartans off Naxos).
_battle of Leucira_: in 371 B.C.
Sec. 24. _disturb the established order_: i.e. by establishing oligarchical
governments in place of democracy.
Sec. 26. _in the Thracian region_: strictly, in Chalcidice and the
neighbourhood. See Introd. to Olynthiacs.
_robbed their very cities of their governments_. This is preferable to the
(grammatically) equally possible rendering, 'robbed them of their
constitutions and their cities,' as it suits the facts better. Philip
seems to have substituted tetrarchies for separate city-states. (See
Speech on Chersonese, Sec.26, and Second Philippic, Sec. 22 n.)
Sec. 27. _Ambracia_. See Introd. to Speech on Chersonese. _Elis_: Introd. to
Speech on Embassy. _Megara_: Speech on Embassy, Sec.Sec. 294, 295.
Sec. 32. _Pythian games_. See Introd. to Speech on Peace. In 342 Philip sent
a deputy to preside in his name.
Sec.Sec. 33, 34. See Introd. to Speech on Chersonese. Echinus was a Theban
colony in Thessaly, on the north coast of the Malian Gulf.
Sec. 42. _Arthmius_, &c. (cf. Speech on Embassy, Sec.271). Zeleia was in the
Troad, near Cyzicus. Arthmius was apparently proxenus of Athens at Zeleia,
and as such had probably certain rights at Athens, of which the decree
deprived him; so that Demosthenes' remarks at the beginning of Sec.44 are
slightly misleading.
Sec. 46. At the end of this section two versions are imperfectly blended, and
it does not appear what were the contents of the document. Some suppose
that the insertion 'He reads from the document' is an early conjectural
interpolation.
Sec. 49. _because be leads_, &c. Philip did, in fact, bring the Macedonian
heavy infantry to great perfection for the purposes of a pitched battle,
though the decisive action was generally that of the cavalry. But the
other troops which Demosthenes names would enable him to execute rapid
movements with success. The use of light-armed troops had already been
developed by the Athenian general, Iphicrates.
Sec. 50. _with such advantages_: lit. 'under these conditions' (_not_ 'to
crown all', nor 'at the head of these troops').
Sec. 52. Contrast Speech on Naval Boards, Section 9.
Sec.Sec. 57 ff. See Introd. to Speech on Embassy.
Sec. 59. Euphraeus had been a disciple of Plato, and an adviser of Perdiccas,
Philip's elder brother. It was he who recommended Perdiccas to entrust the
government of part of Macedonia to Philip, whom he afterwards so strongly
opposed.
Sec. 72. _embassies_. See Introd. to Speech on Chersonese.
ON THE CROWN
Sec. 1. _to take counsel_, &c. Aeschines had asked the jury to refuse
Demosthenes a hearing, or at least to require him to follow the same order
of treatment as himself.
Sec. 3. _unpleasant_. Many render [Greek: duocheres] 'inauspicious', 'ill-
omened'; but as we do not know exactly what was in Demosthenes' mind, it
is better not to give the word a meaning which it does not bear elsewhere.
It may, however, mean 'vexatious'.
Sec. 11. _knave as you are_, &c. The assonance of the original might perhaps
be partly reproduced by rendering 'evil-minded as you are, it was yet a
very simple-minded idea that your mind conceived', &c.
Sec. 12. _it does not enable the State_: lit. 'it is not possible for the
State.' The point is that the prosecution of Ctesiphon, while expressing
the malice of Aeschines towards Demosthenes, does not enable the State to
punish Demosthenes himself for his alleged offences, since any penalty
inflicted would fall on Ctesiphon.
Sec. 13. _to debar another_, &c. This probably refers to the attempt to
deprive Demosthenes of a hearing, not (as some have thought) to the
attempt to get so heavy a fine inflicted upon Ctesiphon that he would be
unable to pay it, and would therefore lose his rights as a citizen.
Sec. 17. _ascribed to me_, &c. Aeschines was anxious, in view of the existing
state of feeling at Athens, to disown his part in connexion with the Peace
of Philocrates; while Demosthenes undoubtedly assisted Philocrates in the
earlier of the negotiations and discussions which led to the Peace.
_appropriate_. 'The recapitulation of the history is not a mere
argumentative necessity, but has a moral fitness also; in fact, the whole
defence of Demosthenes resolves itself into a proof that he only acted in
the spirit of Athenian history' (Simcox).
Sec. 18. _When the Phocian war bad broken out_: i.e. in 356-5. Demosthenes
made his first speech in the Assembly in 354.
_those who detested the Spartans_: i.e. the Messenians and Arcadians.
_those who had previously governed_, &c.: e.g. the oligarchies which had
governed with the help of Sparta in Phlius and Mantinea, and were
overthrown after the battle of Leuctra.
Sec. 19. _would be forced_, &c. This is a misrepresentation, since Philip and
the Thebans had been in alliance for some time, and Thebes had no such
grounds for apprehending evil from Philip, as would make her apply to
Athens.
Sec. 21. _Aristodemus_, &c. See Introd. to Speech on the Peace. As a matter
of fact, Demosthenes acted with Philocrates at least down to the return of
the First Embassy, and himself proposed to crown Aristodemus for his
services (Aeschines, On the Embassy, Sec.Sec. 15-17).
Sec. 23. _the Hellenes bad all_, &c. It is not easy to reconcile this passage
with Sec. 16 of the Speech on the Embassy, from which it appears that
representatives of other states were present in Athens; but these so-
called envoys may have been private visitors, and in any case there was no
real hope of uniting Greece against Philip.
Sec. 24. _Eurybatus_ is said to have been sent as an envoy by Croesus to
Cyrus, and to have turned traitor. The name came to be proverbial.
Sec. 27. _those strongholds_. See Introd. to Speech on the Peace.
Sec. 28. _But they would have watched_, &c. The passage has been taken in
several ways: (1) 'They would have had to watch,' &c., and this would have
been discreditable to Athens; (2) 'They would have watched,' &c., i.e.
they would not have been excluded, as you desired, in any case; (3) 'But,
you say, they would have paid two obols apiece,' and the city would have
gained this. The sentence which follows favours (3), but perhaps (2) is
best. The petty interests of the city would include (from the point of
view assumed by Aeschines) the abstention from showing civility to the
enemy's envoys. The two-obol (threepenny) seats were the cheapest.
Sec. 30. _three whole months_. In fact the ambassadors were only absent from
Athens about ten weeks altogether.
_equally well_. The reading ([Greek: homoios]) is probably wrong; but if
it is right, this must be the meaning.
Sec. 32. _as you did before_, in 352. See Introd. to First Philippic.
Sec. 36. _decree of Callisthenes_. This ordered the bringing in of effects
from the country. See Speech on Embassy, Sec.Sec. 86, 125.
Sec. 41. _property in Boeotia_. See Speech on Embassy, Sec. 145.
Sec. 43. _their hopes_: sc. of the humiliation of Thebes.
_and gladly_: i.e. they were glad to be free from a danger which (though
remotely) threatened themselves, as the next sentence explains. I can see
no good reason for taking the participle [Greek: polemoumenoi] as
concessive ('_although_ they also,' &c.).
Sec. 48. For Lasthenes see Introd. to Olynthiacs. Timolaus probably contrived
the surrender of Thebes after the battle of Chaeroneia. Eudicus is
unknown. Simus invoked Philip's aid against the tyrants at Pherae in 352
(see Introd, to First Philippic). Aristratus was tyrant of Sicyon, and
made alliance with Philip in 338. For Perillus, see Speech on Embassy,
Section 295.
Sec. 50. _stale dregs_: strictly the remains, and especially the wine left in
the cups, from the previous night's feast; here the long-admitted
responsibility of Aeschines for the Peace of 346.
Sec. 63. _Dolopes_: a small tribe living to the south-west of Thessaly.
Sec. 65. _free constitutions_. This refers especially to the Thessalians, who
had been placed under tetrarchies (see Philippic III. Sec. 26).
Sec. 70. _Aristophon_. See Speech on Chersonese, Sec. 30 n. Diopeithes is
perhaps Diopeithes of Sphettus (mentioned by Hypereides, Speech against
Euxenippus, Sec. 39), not the general sent by Athens to the Chersonese.
Sec. 71. For the events mentioned in this section, see Introd. to Speech on
the Embassy.
Sec. 72. _Mysian booty_. A proverbial expression derived from the helpless
condition of Mysia (according to legend) in the absence of its king,
Telephus.
Sec. 79. _to the Peloponnese_, in 344 (see Introd. to Second Philippic): _to
Euboea_ in 343-2 (see Introd. to Speech on Embassy); _to Oreus_, &c., in
341 (see Introd. to this Speech).
Sec. 82. _as their patron_, i.e. as consul (or official patron) of Oreus in
Athens. See n. on Speech for Rhodians, Sec. 15. civil rights. See vol. i, p.
52.
Sec. 83. _this was already the second proclamation_: i.e. the proclamation in
accordance with the decree of Aristonicus. It is indeed just possible that
the reference is to the proposal of Ctesiphon, 'for this is now the second
proclamation,' &c. If so, we should have to assume that the proclamation
under the decree of Demomeles in 338 was prevented by the disaster of
Chaeroneia. But the first sentence of Sec. 120 is against this (see Goodwin's
edition _ad loc_.).
Sec. 94. _inconsiderate conduct_: i.e. in joining the revolt of the Athenian
allies in 356.
Sec. 96. _when the Spartans_, &c. The section refers to the events of 395.
_Deceleian War_: i.e. the last part of the Peloponnesian War (413-404
B.C.), when Deceleia (in Attica) was occupied by the Spartans.
Sec. 99. _Thebans... Euboea_: in 358 or 357. See Speech for Megalopolitans, Sec.
14 n.
Sec. 100. _Oropus_. See Speech for Megalopolitans, Section 11 n.
_I was one_. Demosthenes was, in fact, co-trierarch with Philinus (Speech
against Meidias, Sec. 161).
Sec. 102. See Speech on Naval Boards (with Introd. and notes), and n. on
Olynthiac II, Sec. 29.
_obtaining exemption_. The undertaking of the trierarchy conferred
exemption from other burdens for the year, and (conversely) no one
responsible for another public burden need be trierarch. The leaders of
the Taxation Boards referred to in Sec. 103 are probably not (as generally
supposed) the richest men in the _Naval_ Boards [Footnote: They may indeed
have been so, but it was in virtue of their function as leading members of
the Hundred Boards (for collecting the war tax) that they were grouped
together as the Three Hundred.] (responsible for trierarchy), but those in
the Hundred Boards responsible for the war tax. In each of these Boards
there was a leader, a 'second', and a 'third', and these, all together,
are almost certainly identical with the 'Three Hundred' responsible for
advancing the sum due. When these were already advancing the war tax, they
became exempt from trierarchy, and their poorer colleagues in the Naval
Boards (to which of course they also belonged) had to bear the burden
without them. But under Demosthenes' law the trierarchic payment was
required from all alike, in strict proportion to their valuation as
entered for the purposes of the war tax; and the Three Hundred (the
leaders, seconds, and thirds) were no longer exempted. (This explains
their anxiety to get the law shelved.) Even in years when they were not
exempt, before Demosthenes' law was passed, they only paid a very small
share in proportion to their wealth, since all the members of each Naval
Board paid the same sum. It appears, however, that (though the Three
Hundred as such cannot be shown to have had any office in connexion with
the trierarchy) the richer men in the Naval Boards arranged the contracts
for the work of equipment, and that when they had contracted that the work
should be done (e.g.) for a talent, they sometimes recovered the whole
talent from their poorer colleagues. (Speech against Meidias, Sec. 155.)
Sec. 103. _lie under sworn notice_, &c. ([Greek: en hupomosia]). One who
intended to indict the proposer of a law for illegality had probably to
give sworn notice of his intention, and the suggestion made to Demosthenes
was that when such notice had been given, he should let the law drop.
Sec. 105. _the decree_, &c.: i.e. either a decree suspending the law until
the indictment should be heard, or one ordering the trial on the
indictment to be held.
Sec. 107. _no trierarch_, &c. A trierarch who thought the burden too heavy
for him could appeal against it by laying a branch on the altar in the
Pnyx, or by taking sanctuary in the Temple of Artemis at Munychia. A
dilatory or recalcitrant trierarch could be arrested by order of the ten
commissioners ([Greek: apostuleis]) who constituted a sort of Admiralty
Board.
Sec. 111. _the laws_, &c. The laws alleged to have been violated were copied
out, and accompanied the indictment. With regard to the laws in the
present case, see Goodwin's edition, pp. 313-6.
Sec. 114. _Nausides_ was sent to oppose Philip at Thermopylae in 352 (see
Introd. to First Philippic). Diotimus had a command at sea in 338, and his
surrender was demanded by Alexander in 335, as was also that of
Charidernus (see n. on Olynthiac III, Sec. 5), who had now been a regular
Athenian general for many years, and had been sent to assist Byzantium in
340 (see Speech against Aristocrates, _passim_).
Sec. 121. _hellebore_: supposed in antiquity to cure madness.
Sec. 122. _reveller on a cart_, e.g. on the second day of the Anthesteria,
when masked revellers rode in wagons and assailed the bystanders with
abusive language. Such ceremonial abuse was perhaps originally supposed to
have power to avert evil, and occurs in primitive ritual all over the
world.
Sec. 125. _the statutable limit_. There was a limit of time (differing
according to the alleged offence) after which no action could be brought.
Demosthenes could not now be prosecuted for any of the offences with which
Aeschines charged him.
Sec. 127. _Aeacus_, &c.: the judges of the dead in Hades, according to
popular legend.
_scandal-monger_. The Greek word ([Greek: spermologos]) is used primarily
of a small bird that pecks up seeds, and hence of a person who picks up
petty gossip. (In Acts xvii. 18 it is the word which is applied to St.
Paul, and translated 'this babbler'.)
_an old band in the market-place_: i.e. a rogue. A clerk would perhaps
often be found in the offices about the market-place; or the reference may
be to the market-place as a centre of gossip.
_O Earth_, &c. Demosthenes quotes from the peroration of Aeschines'
speech.
Sec. 129. The stories which Demosthenes retails in these sections deal with a
time which must have been forty or fifty years before the date of this
speech, and probably contain little truth, beyond the facts that
Aeschines' father was a schoolmaster (not a slave), and was assisted by
Aeschines himself; and that his mother was priestess of a 'thiasos' or
voluntary association of worshippers of Dionysus-Sabazios, among whose
ceremonies was doubtless one symbolizing a marriage or mystical union
between the god and his worshippers. (Whether the form of 'sacred
marriage' which was originally intended to promote the fertility of the
ground by 'sympathetic magic' entered into the ritual of Sabazios is
doubtful.) Such a rite, though probably in fact quite innocent, gave rise
to suspicions, of which Demosthenes takes full advantage; and the fact
that well-known courtesans (such as Phryne and perhaps Ninus) sometimes
organized such 'mysteries' would lend colour to the suspicions.
_Hero of the Lancet_ ([Greek: to kalamit_e aer_oi]). The interpretation is
very uncertain (see Goodwin, pp. 339 ff.); and, according as [Greek:
kalamos] is taken in the sense of 'lancet', 'splints', or 'bow', editors
render the phrase 'hero of the lancet', 'hero of the splints', 'archer-
hero' (identified by some with Toxaris, the Scythian physician, whose
arrival in Athens in Solon's time is described in Lucian's [Greek:
Skuth_es ae Proxenos]). That the Hero was a physician is shown by the
Speech on the Embassy, Sec. 249.
Sec. 130. _for they were not like_, &c. ([Greek: ouge gar h_onetuchen _en,
all ois hu daemos kataratai]). The meaning is quite uncertain. The most
likely interpretations are: (1) that given in the text, [Greek: a
bebioken] being understood as the subject of [Greek: _en], and [Greek: _on
etuchen] as = [Greek: tout_on a etuchen], i.e. 'not belonging to the class
of acts which were such as chance made them,' but acts of a quite definite
kind, viz. the kind which the People curses (through the mouth of the
herald at each meeting of the Assembly); (2) 'for he was not of ordinary
parents, but of such as the People curses'; the subject of [Greek: _en]
being Aeschines. But there is the difficulty that, with this subject for
[Greek: _en, _on etuchen] can only represent [Greek: tout_on _on etuchen
_on], whereas the sense required is [Greek: tout_on oi etuchon], or (the
regular idiom) [Greek: t_on tuchunt_on]; and the sense is not so good, for
the context [Greek: opse gar]) shows that the clause ought to refer to the
_acts_ of Aeschines about which he is going to speak, not to his
parentage, which the orator has done with.
_Glaucothea_. Her real name is said to have been Glaucis. Glaucothea was
the name of a sea-nymph. The change of the father's name Tromes
('Trembler') to Atrometus ('Dauntless') would also betoken a rise in the
world.
_Empusa_, or 'The Foul Phantom': a female demon capable of assuming any
shape. Obscene ideas were sometimes associated with her.
Sec. 132. For Antiphon, see Introd. to Speech on the Embassy.
_struck off the list_: at the revision of the lists in 346. (Each deme
revised the list of its own members, subject to an appeal to the courts.)
_without a decree_: i.e. a decree authorizing a domiciliary visit.
Sec. 134. _when ... you elected him_. See Introd. to Speech on the Embassy.
_from the altar_: a peculiarly solemn form of voting; it is mentioned in
the Speech against Macartatus, Sec. 14.
Sec. 136. _when Philip sent_, &c. See Introd. to Speech on the Embassy.
Sec. 137. The ostensible purpose of Anaxinus' visit was to make purchases for
Olympias, Philip's wife. Aeschines states that Anaxinus had once been
Demosthenes' own host at Oreus.
Sec. 141. _paternal deity_: as father of Ion, the legendary ancestor of the
Ionians, and so of the Athenians.
Sec. 143. _and of one_, &c. I have followed the general consensus of recent
editors; but I do not feel at all sure that the antecedent of [Greek: us]
is not [Greek: polemos]. In that case we should translate, 'which led to
Philip's coming to Elateia and being chosen commander of the Amphictyons,
and which overthrew,' &c.
Sec. 146. _nature of the resources_, &c.: i.e. especially the possession by
Athens of a strong fleet.
Sec. 148. _representatives on the Council_. The Amphictyonic Council was
composed of two representatives (Hieromnemones) from each of twelve
primitive tribes, of which the Thessalians, the Boeotians, the Ionians
(one of whose members was appointed by Athens), and the Dorians (one
member appointed by Sparta) were the chief, while some of the tribes were
now very obscure. There were also present delegates (Pylagori) from
various towns. These were not members of the Council, and had no vote, but
might speak. Athens sent three such delegates to each meeting. (See
Goodwin, pp. 338, 339.)
Sec. 150. _make the circuit_, or 'beat the bounds'. The actual proceedings
(according to Aeschines' account, summarized in the Introd. to this
Speech) were much more violent.
_It was clearly impossible_, &c. The argument is unconvincing. Aeschines
may have known of the intention of the Locrians without their having
served a formal summons.
Sec. 158. _one man_: i.e. Philip.
Sec. 169. _the Prytanes_: the acting Committee of the Council.
_set fire to the wicker-work_: i.e. probably the hurdles, &c., of which
the booths were partly composed. Probably a bonfire was a well-understood
form of summons to an Assembly called in an emergency.
_the draft-resolution_. See Introd., vol. i, p. 18.
_on the hill-side_: i.e. on the Pnyx, the meeting-place of the Assembly.
Sec. 171. _the Three Hundred_. See n. on Sec. 102.
Sec. 176. _philippize_. The word was coined during the wars with Philip, on
the analogy of 'medize'--the term used of the action of the traitors who
supported the invading Persians (Medes) early in the fifth century.
Sec. 177. _to Eleusis_, which was on the most convenient (though not the
shortest) route for an army marching to Thebes.
Sec. 180. _Battalus_: a nickname given to Demosthenes by his nurse on account
of the impediment in his speech from which he suffered in early days, or
of his general delicacy. Aeschines had tried to fix an obscene
interpretation upon it.
_Creon_. See Speech on the Embassy, Sec. 247.
_at Collytus_: i.e. at the Rural Dionysia held in that deme.
Sec. 189. _any one_: lit. 'any one who chooses,' i.e. to call him to account.
The expression ([Greek: ho boulomenos]) is apparently half technical, as
applied to a self-appointed prosecutor. (Cf. Aristophanes, _Plutus_ 908
and 918.)
Sec. 194. _the general_: i.e. at Chaeroneia.
Sec. 195. _Philip employed_. Most editors say '_Aeschines_ employed'. But
this would require [Greek: outos] not [Greek: ekeinos], and Sec. 218 also
supports the interpretation here given.
Sec. 198. _treasured up_, &c. The suggestion seems to be that Aeschines
foresaw the disasters, but concealed his knowledge, 'storing them up' in
order to make a reputation out of them later.
Sec. 204. _to leave their land_, &c.: i.e. at the time of Xerxes' invasion in
480, when the Athenians abandoned the city and trusted to the 'wooden
walls' of their ships.
Sec. 208. On this magnificent passage, see the treatise _On the Sublime_,
chaps, xvi, xvii.
Sec. 209. _poring pedant_: lit. 'one who stoops over writings'. Here used
perhaps with reference to Aeschines' having 'worked up' allusions to the
past for the purpose of his Speech, while he remained blind to the great
issues of the present. Many editors think that the reference is to his
earlier occupation as a schoolmaster or a clerk; but this is perhaps less
suitable to the context.
Sec. 210. _staff...ticket_. The colour of the staff indicated the court in
which the juror was to sit; the ticket was exchanged for his pay at the
end of the day.
Sec. 214. _a very deluge_. He is thinking, no doubt, of the disaster at
Chaeroneia and the destruction of Thebes.
Sec. 215. _while their infantry_, &c. The Theban forces when prepared for
action would naturally camp outside the walls (see Olynth. I, Sec. 27, where
Demosthenes similarly thinks of the Athenian army encamping outside
Athens). But although they were thus encamped outside, and had left their
wives and children unguarded within, they allowed the Athenian soldiers to
enter the city freely.
Sec. 216. _the river_: probably the Cephisus. Both battles are otherwise
unknown. If one of them was in winter, it must have taken place not long
after the capture of Elateia, and several months before the battle of
Chaeroneia.
Sec. 219. _somewhere to lay the blame_: or possibly, 'some opportunity of
recovering himself,' or 'some place of retreat'. But the interpretation
given (which is that of Harpocration) is supported by the use of [Greek:
anenenkein] in Sec. 224.
Sec. 227. _counters all disappear_. The calculation was made by taking away,
for each item of debt or expenditure, so many counters from the total
representing the sum originally possessed. When the frame (or _abacus_)
containing the counters was left clear, it meant that there was no
surplus. (The right reading, however, may be [Greek: an kathair_osin], 'if
the counters are decisive,' or [Greek: han kathair_osin], 'whatever the
counters prove, you concede.')
Sec. 231. _cancel them out_ ([Greek: antanelein]): strictly, to strike each
out of the account in view of something on the opposite side (i.e. in view
of the alternative which you would have proposed).
Sec. 234. _collected in advance_: i.e. Athens had been anticipating her
income.
Sec. 238. _if you refer_, &c. Aeschines had accused Demosthenes of saddling
Athens with two-thirds of the expense of the war, and Thebes with only
one-third.
_three hundred_, &c. See Speech on Naval Boards, Sec. 29 n.
Sec. 243. _customary offerings_, made at the tomb on the third and ninth days
after the death.
Sec. 249. _Philocrates_: not Philocrates of Hagnus, the proposer of the Peace
of 346, but an Eleusinian. For Diondas, see Sec. 222. The others are unknown.
Sec. 251. _Cephalus_. Cf. Sec. 219. He was an orator and statesman of the early
part of the fourth century. (The best account of him is in Beloch,
_Attische Politik_, p. 117.)
Sec. 258. _the attendants' room_. The 'attendants' are those who escorted the
boys to and from school--generally slaves.
Sec. 259. _the books_, &c. Cf. Sec. 129 and notes. The books probably contained
the formulae of initiation, or the hymns which were chanted by some
Dionysiac societies. The service described here is probably that of the
combined worship of Dionysus-Sabazios and the Great Mother (Cybele).
_dressing_, &c. The candidate for initiation was clothed in a fawn-skin,
and was 'purified' by being smeared with clay (while sitting down, with
head covered) and rubbed clean with bran, and after the initiation was
supposed to enter upon a new and higher life. It is possible that the
veiling and disguising with clay originally signified a death to the old
life, such as is the ruling idea in many initiations of a primitive type.
(Cf. Aristophanes, travesty of an initiation-ceremony in the _Clouds_
256.)
Sec. 260. _fennel and white poplar_. These were credited with magical and
protective properties.
_Euoe, Saboe_: the cry to Sabazios. One is tempted to render it by 'Glory!
Hallelujah!' In fact, the Dionysiac 'thiasoi', or some of them, had many
features, good as well as bad, in common with the Salvation Army. The cry
'Euoe, Saboe' is of Thracian origin; 'Hyes Attes' is Phrygian. The
serpents, the ivy, and the winnowing-fan figured in more than one variety
of Dionysiac service. It is not certain that for 'ivy-bearer' ([Greek:
kittophorhos]) we should not read 'chest-bearer' ([Greek: kistophoros])
used with reference to the receptacle containing sacred objects, of which
we hear elsewhere in connexion with similar rites.
Sec. 261. _fellow-parishioners_; lit. 'members of your deme'. Each deme kept
the register of citizens belonging to it. Enrolment was possible at the
age of 18 years, and had to be confirmed by the Council. (See Aristotle,
_Constitution of Athens_, chap. xiii.)
Sec. 262. _collecting figs_, &c. Two interpretations are possible: (1) that
the spectators in derision threw fruit--probably not of the best--at
Aeschines on the stage, and he gathered it up, as a fruiterer collects
fruit from various growers, and lived on it; or (2) that while he was a
strolling player, Aeschines used to rob orchards. Of these (1) seems by
far the better in the context.
Sec. 267. _I leave the abysm_, &c. The opening of Euripides' _Hecuba_. The
line next quoted is unknown. 'Evil in evil wise' ([Greek: kakon kak_os])
is found in a line of Lynceus, a fourth-century tragedian.
Sec. 282. _denied this intimacy with him_: or possibly (with the scholiast),
'declined this office.'
Sec. 284. _the tambourine-player_. Such instruments were used in orgiastic
rites.
Sec. 285. Hegemon and Pythocles were members of the Macedonian party, who
were put to death in 317 by order of the Assembly. (See Speech on Embassy,
Sec.Sec. 215, 314.)
Sec. 287. _same libation_: i.e. the same banquet. The libation preceded the
drinking. To 'go beneath the same roof' with a polluted person was
supposed to involve contamination.
_in the revel_. Cf. Speech on the Embassy, Sec. 128. The reference, however,
is here more particularly to Philip's revels after the battle of
Chaeroneia, in which, Demosthenes suggests, the Athenian envoys took part.
Sec. 289. The genuineness of the epitaph is doubtful. Line 2 is singularly
untrue. The text is almost certainly corrupt in places (e.g. ll. 3 and
10).
_their lives_, &c. As the text stands, [Greek: aret_es] and [Greek:
deimatos] must be governed by [Greek: brab_e,], 'made Hades the judge of
their valour or their cowardice.' But this leaves [Greek: ouk esa_osan
psuchas] as a quasiparenthesis, very difficult to accept in so simple and
at the same time so finished a form of composition as the epigram. There
are many emendations.
_'Tis God's_, &c. The line, [Greek: m_eden hamartein esti the_on kai panta
katorhthoun], is taken from Simonides' epitaph on the heroes of Marathon.
The sense of the couplet is plain from Sec. 290; but [Greek: en biot_e] in l.
10 is possibly corrupt.
Sec. 300. _the confederacy_, i.e. Athens, Thebes, and their allies at
Chaeroneia.
Sec. 301. _our neighbours_, especially Megara and Corinth.
Sec. 308. _the inactivity which you_, &c.: i.e. abstention from taking a
prominent part in public life.
Sec. 309. _opening of ports_: i.e. to Athenian commerce.
Sec. 311. _What pecuniary assistance_, &c. Demosthenes is thinking of his own
services in ransoming prisoners, &c. Some editors translate, 'What public
financial aid have you ever given to rich or poor?' i.e. 'When have you
ever dispensed State funds in such a way as to benefit any one?' It is
impossible to decide with certainty between the two alternatives; but the
meanings of [Greek: politik_e] ('citizen-like', 'such as one would expect
from a good fellow-citizen') and [Greek: koin_e], which I assume, seem to
be supported by Sec.Sec. 13 and 268 respectively.
Sec. 312. _leaders of the Naval Boards_. See Introd. to Speech on Naval
Boards.
_damaging attack_, &c. This probably refers to modifications introduced on
Aeschines' proposal into Demosthenes' Trierarchic Law of 340, not at the
time of its enactment, but after some experience of its working. (See
Aeschines, 'Against Ctesiphon,' Sec. 222.)
Sec. 313. Theocrines was a tragic actor, who was attacked in the pseudo-
Demosthenic Speech 'Against Theocrines'. Harpocration's description of him
as a 'sycophant', or dishonest informer, may be merely an inference from
the Speech.
Sec. 318. _your brother_. See Speech on the Embassy, Sec.Sec. 237, 249. It is not
known which brother is here referred to.
Sec. 319. Philammon was a recent Olympic victor in the boxing match; Glaucus,
a celebrated boxer early in the fifth century.
Sec. 320. _owner of a stud_. To keep horses was a sign of great wealth in
Athens.
INDEX
(Back To Top)
Abdera, i.
Abydos, ii.
Acarnania, Acarnanians, ii.
Achaeans, ii.
Acropolis, i.; ii.
Adeimantus, i.
Admiralty Board ([Greek: apostoleis]), ii.
Aeacus, ii.
Aegina, ii.
Aeschines, i.; ii.
Aetolia, Aetolians, ii.
Agapaeus, ii.
Aglaurus, temple of, i.; ii.
Agyrrhius, i.
Alcidamas, i.
Alenadae, i.
Alexander (480 B.C.), i.; ii.
Alexander the Great, ii.
Amadocus, i.
Ambassadors, duties of, i.
Ambracia, ii.
Amphictyonic Council,
its constitution and functions, i.; ii.
from 346-343 B.C., i.; ii.
and the Amphissean War, ii.
Demosthenes at the, ii.
Amphipolis, i.; ii.
Amphissa, Amphissean War:
_see_ Amphictyonic Council.
Anaximenes, i.
Anaxinus, ii.
Androtion, i.
Anemoetas, ii.
Antalcidas: _see_ Peace.
Anthemus, i.
Antipater, i.
Antiphon, i.; ii.
Aphobetus, i.
Apollodorus, i.
Apollonia, ii.
Apollonides,
of Cardia, i.
of Olynthus, ii.
Apollophanes, i.
Arcadia, Arcadians, i.; ii.
(_See_ also Megalopolis.)
Areopagus,
Council of, i.; ii.
Argaeus, i.
Argives, Argos, i.; ii.
Ariobarzanes, i.; ii.
Aristaechmus, ii.
Aristides, i.
Aristocrates, i.
Aristodemus, i.; ii.
Aristoleos, ii.
Aristonicus, ii.
Aristophanes, ii.
Aristophon, i.; ii.
Aristotle, i.
Aristratus,
of Naxos, ii.
of Sicyon, ii.
Arrhidaeus, i.
Artabazus, i.; ii.
Artaxerxes, i.; ii.
(_See also_ Persia.)
Artemisia, i.; ii.
Artemisium, ii.
Arthmius, i.; ii.
Arybbas, i.; ii.
Asiatic Greeks, i.; ii.
Assembly, the Athenian,
its functions, character, and defects, i.; ii.
debates in, i.; ii.
(_See also_ Athenian People.)
Athenian People,
their indifference and procrastination, i.; ii.
their incalculability, i.
their traditions and traditional policy, i.; ii.
(_See also_ Assembly, Democracy.)
Atrestidas, i.
Atrometus, i.; ii.
Auditors, Board of (Logistae), i.; ii.
Automedon, ii.
Balance of Power, principle of, i.
Battalus, ii.
Boedromia, i.; ii.
Boeotia, i.; ii.
(_See also_ Thebes.)
Boeotian War, ii.
Brougham, Lord; Preface; i.
Byzantium, i; ii.
Cabyle, ii.
Callias
(Author of Peace), i.
(_See also _Peace.)
(of Chalcis), ii.
(public slave), i.
Callisthenes, i.; ii.
Callistratus, i.; ii.
Cardia, Cardians, i.; ii.
Caria, Prince of, i.
(_See also_ Artemisia, Mausolus.)
Ceos, ii.
Cephalus, ii.
Cephisodotus, i.; ii.
Cephisophon, ii.
Cercidas, ii.
Cersobleptes, i.; ii.
Chabrias, i.; ii.
Chaeroneia, battle of, ii.
Chalcedon, i.; ii.
Chalcidic League, i.; ii.
Chalcis, ii.
Chares, i.; ii.
Charidemus, i.; ii.
Chelidonian Islands, ii.
Chersonese, i.; ii.
(_See also_ Cardia.)
Chios, i.; ii.
Cineas, ii.
Cirrha, Cirrhaean plain, ii.
Clearchus, i.; ii.
Cleitarchus, i.; ii.
Cleophon, i.
Cleotimus, ii.
Collytus, ii.
Conon, i.
Corcyra, i.; ii.
Corinth, Corinthians, i.; ii.
Corn-supply, &c. (Athenian), i.; ii.
Coroneia, i.; ii.
Corsia, i.
Cos, i.; ii.
Cottyphus, ii.
Council,
of Areopagus.
(_See_ Areopagus.)
of Five Hundred, i.; ii.
Crenides, i.
Creon, i.; ii.
Cresphontes, ii.
Ctesiphon
(negotiator of Peace), i.; ii.
(indicted by Eubulus), i.
(proposer of Crown), ii.
Curse, public, i.; ii.
Cyanean Rocks, ii.
Cyprothemis, i.
Cyrebion, i.; ii.
Cyrsilus, ii.
Cyrus, i.; ii.
Daochus, ii.
Dardani, i.
Deceleian War, ii.
Deinarchus, ii.
Delos, i.; ii.
Delphi, temple at, i.; ii.
Demades, i.; ii.
Demaretus, ii.
Democracy,
and Oligarchy, i.
and Tyranny, i.; ii.
(_See also_ Athenian People.)
Demomeles, ii.
Demosthenes (General), i.; ii.
Dercylus, i.
Diodorus, i.
Dion, ii.
Diondas, ii.
Dionysia, i.; ii.
Dionysius (General), i.; ii.
Dionysius of Halicarnassus, i.
Dionysus, ii.
Diopeithes
(General), ii.
(of Sphettus?), ii.
Diophantus, i.; ii.
Diotimus, ii.
Disunion of the Hellenes, i.; ii.
Dium, i.
Dodona, oracle of, ii.
Dolopes, ii.
Dorians of Parnassus, ii.
Doriscus, i.; ii.
Drongilum, ii.
Drymus, i.
Echinus, ii.
Egypt, i; ii.
Elateia, i.; ii.
Election by lot, i.
Eleusis, ii.
Elis, i.; ii.
Elpias, ii.
Embassies to Peloponnesian States, ii.
Embassy,
the First, i.
the Second, i.; ii.
(_See also_ Peace of Philocrates.)
the Third, i.; ii.
Empusa, ii.
Ephialtes, ii.
Epichares, ii.
Epicrates, i.; ii.
(_See also_ Cyrebion).
Epirus, ii.
Eretria, i.; ii.
Ergiske, ii.
Ergocles, i.; ii.
Ergophilus, i.; ii.
Erythraeans, ii.
Etesian Winds, i.; ii.
Euboea, Euboeans, i.; ii.
Eubulus, i.; ii.
Eucleides, i.; ii.
Eudicus, ii.
Euphraeus, ii.
Eurybatus, ii.
Eurylochus, i.
Euripides, i.
Euthycles, i.
Euthycrates, i.; ii.
Execcstus, i.
Festival Fund, i.; ii.
Financial System (Athenian), i.; ii.
(_See also_ Military System, Naval System.)
Fortifications,
Commissioner of, ii.
of Athens, ii.
Fortune, i.; ii.
Funeral Oration, after Chaeroneia, ii.
Geraestus, i.; ii.
Getae, ii.
Glaucothea, i.; ii.
Glaucus, ii.
Gods,
and crime, i.
and perjury, i.
command issues of events, ii.
protect Athens, i.; ii.
Guest-friendship, ii.
Haliartus, i.; ii.
Halonnesus, ii.
Halus, i.
Harmodius, i.
Hedyleum, i.; ii.
Hegemon, ii.
Hegesilaus, i.; ii.
Hegesippus, i.; ii.
Hellespont, i.; ii.
(_See also_ Chersonese, Thrace.)
Heracles, sacrifice to, i.; ii.
Heraeon Teichos, i.; ii.
Hero of the Lancet (Hero-Physician), i.; ii.
Hierax, i.
Hieronymus, i.
Hipparchus, ii.
Hipponicus, ii.
Hypereides, i.; ii.
Iatrocles, i.
Illyria, Illyrians, i.; ii.
Imbros, i.; ii.
Iphicrates, i.; ii.
Isaeus, i.
Ischander, i.
Isocrates, i.; ii.
Lacedaemon, Lacedaemonians.
(_See_ Sparta, Spartans.)
Lampsacus, i.; ii.
Lasthenes, i.; ii.
Larissa, i.; ii.
Law-Courts, supremacy of, i.; ii.
(_See also_ Trials.)
Legislative Commission, i.; ii.
Lemnos, i.; ii.
Leon, i.; ii.
Leptines, i.
Leucas, ii.
Leuctra, battle of, i.; ii.
Locrians, i.; ii.
(_See also_ Amphissa.)
Logistae.
(_See_ Auditors.)
Longinus, i.
Lycophron, i.
Lycurgus, ii.
Macedonian Empire, i.
Magnesia, i.; ii.
Mantineia,
battle of, i.; ii.
oligarchy in, ii.
Marathon, i.; ii.
battle of, i.; ii.
Mardonius, ii.
Maroneia, i.
Masteira, ii.
Mausolus, i.
Mecyberna, i.
Megalopolis, i.; ii.
(_See also_ Arcadia.)
Megara, Megareans, i.; ii.
Meidias, ii.
Melantus, ii.
Menecles, ii.
Menelaus, i.; ii.
Menippus, ii.
Mercenaries, i.; ii.
Messene, Messenians, i.; ii.
Methone, i.; ii.
Metroon, i.; ii.
Military System (Athenian), i.; ii.
(_See also_ Mercenaries, Naval System.)
Miltiades, i.
Mnaseas, ii.
Moerocles, i.
Molon, i.
Molossi, ii.
Molossus, ii.
Minos, ii.
Mother, the Great, ii.
Mountain, Sacred, i.; ii.
Munychia, ii.
Murder, Law of, ii.
Myrtenum, ii.
Myrtis, ii.
'Mysian booty,' ii.
Mysteries, the, ii.
Mytilene, i.
Naval Boards, i.; ii.
Naval System (Athenian), i.; ii.
(_See also_ Financial System, Military System.)
Naupactus, ii.
Nausicles, ii.
Neapolis, i.
Neoptolemus, i.; ii.
(another?), ii.
Neon, ii.
Neones, i.; ii.
Nicaea, i.; ii.
Nicias
(General), i.
(another), i.
Ninus, ii.
Oenomaus, ii.
Oligarchy, i.; ii.
Olympian games, i.
Olympias, ii.
Olynthus, Olynthians, i.; ii.
Onomarchus, i.
Orators,
corrupt and disloyal, i.; ii.
and Speech on the Crown, _passim_.
(_See also_ Traitors.)
difficulties and risks of, i.; ii.
duties of, i.; ii.
past and present Athenian, i.; ii.
position of, in Athens, i.; ii.
recriminations of, i.; ii.
seeking popularity, i.; ii.
Orchomenus, i.; ii.
Oreus, i.; ii.
Orontas, i.; ii.
Oropus, i.; ii.
Paeonians, i.; ii.
Pagasae, i.
Pammenes, i.
Panactum, i.; ii.
Panathenaea, i.; ii.
Pangaeus, Mount, i.
Parmenio, i.
Peace
of Antalcidas, i.; ii.
of Callias, i.; ii.
of Demades, ii.
of Philocrates, i.; ii.
Peitholaus, i.
Peiraeus, i.; ii.
Pella, i.; ii.
Pelopidas, ii.
Peparethus, ii.
Periander, Law of, i.
Perdiccas, ii.
Pericles, i.
Perillus, i.; ii.
Perinthus, i.; ii.
Persia, Persian King, i.; ii.
Phalaecus, i.; ii.
Pharsalus, i.
Pherae, Pheraeans, i.; ii.
Philammon, ii.
Philiadas, ii.
Philinus, ii.
Philip,
his advantages over Athens, i.; ii.
his army, ii.
his character, i.; ii.
his policy, i.; ii.
Philippi, i.
Philippopolis, ii.
Philo, i.; ii.
Philochares, i.
Philocrates
(author of Peace), i.; ii.
(another), ii.
Philonicus, i.
Philistides, ii.
Phlius, Phliasians, i.; ii.
Phocians, Phocis, i.; ii.
Phocion, i.; ii.
Phormio, ii.
Phryne, ii.
Phrynon, i.
Phyle, i.
Pirates, &c., ii.
Pittalacus, i.
Plataeae, i.; ii.
(battle of), ii.
Plutarchus, i.; ii.
Pnyx, ii.
Polyeuctus, ii.
Polystratus, i.; ii.
Porthmus, i.; ii.
Poteidaea, i.; ii.
Prisoners, ransom of, i.; ii.
Proconnesus, ii.
Proedroi, ii.
Prophets, i.; ii.
Proxenus, i.; ii.
Prytanes, i.; ii.
Ptoeodorus, i.; ii.
Pydna, i.; ii.
Pythian Games, i.; ii.
Pythocles, i.; ii.
Python, i.; ii.
Rhadamanthus, ii.
Rhodes, Rhodians, i.; ii.
River, battle by the, ii.
Round Chamber, i.; ii.
Sabazios.
(_See_ Dionysus.)
Sacred War, i.
(_See also_ Amphissean War.)
Salamis, Salaminians, i.; ii.
battle of, i.; ii.
Samos, i.; ii.
Satyrus, i.
Schools (Athenian), i.; ii.
Sciathus, i.; ii.
Scyros, i.
Scythia, ii.
Selymbria, i.; ii.
Serrhium, i.; ii.
Sicyon, ii.
Sigeum, i.; ii.
Simonides, ii.
Simus, ii.
Simylus, ii.
Smicythus, i.; ii.
Socrates
(of Oreus), ii.
(actor), ii.
Solon, i.; ii.
Sophocles, i.
Sosicles, ii.
Sosistratus, ii.
Sparta, Spartans, i.; ii.
Stageira, i.
Symmories.
(_See_ Naval Boards.)
Tamynae, ii.
Tanagra, ii.
Taurosthenes, ii.
Taxation.
(_See_ Financial System.)
Teledamus, ii.
Tenedos, ii.
Tetrarchies, ii.
Tharrex, i.; ii.
Thasos, i.
Thebans, Thebes, i.; ii.
Themison, ii.
Themistocles, i.; ii.
Theocrines, ii.
Theodoras
(actor), i.
(of Oropus), ii.
Theogeiton, ii.
Theopompus, ii.
Theoric Fund.
(_See_ Festival Fund.)
Thermopylae, i.; ii.
Theseus, temple of, ii.
Thesmothetae, i.; ii.
Thessalians, Thessaly, i.; ii.
(_See also_ Magnesia, Pagasae, Pharsalus, Pherae.)
Thirty Tyrants, the, i.; ii.
Thoas, ii.
Thrace, Thracians, i.; ii.
(_See also_ Cersobleptes, Chersonese, Hellespont.)
Thrason, ii.
Thrasybulus, i.; ii.
Thrasydaeus, ii.
Thrasylochus, ii.
Thucydides, i.
Tigranes, i.
Tilphossaeum, i; ii.
173.
Timagoras, i.; ii.
Timarchus, i.; ii.
Timocrates, i.
Timolaus, ii.
Timomachus, i.
Timotheus, i.; ii.
Torone, i.; ii.
Torture, i.; ii.
Traitors, i.; ii.
(_See also_ Orators, corruption of.)
Trials, Athenian (character and
procedure), i.
(_See also_ Law-Courts.)
Triballi, i.; ii.
Tricaranum, i.; ii.
Trierarchy.
(_See_ Naval Boards Naval System.)
Triphylia, i.; ii.
Tromes, ii.
Walls, the, i.
Winter-battle, the, ii.
Xenocleides, i.
Xenophron, i.
Zeleia, i.; ii.
***END OF EBOOK: The Public Orations of Demosthenes In Two Volumes- Vol.1 and 2: Translated by Arthur Wallace Pickard***