The Public Orations of Demosthenes, volume 1
by
Demosthenes
Part 4 out of 4
(_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
[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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