(vii) Attack upon Eubulus for defending Aeschines (---- 288-99).

(viii) Philip's policy and methods; proofs of Aeschines' complicity repeated (---- 300-31).

(ix) Warnings to the jury against Aeschines' attempts to mislead them; and conclusion (---- 331-43).]

{1} How much interest this case has excited, men of Athens, and how much canva.s.sing 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 pa.s.sed 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 pa.s.s 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 Emba.s.sy 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 amba.s.sador. 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 amba.s.sadors 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 amba.s.sador 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 amba.s.sador, 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 h.e.l.lenes 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 n.o.ble 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 h.e.l.las, 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 amba.s.sadors 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 Emba.s.sy, 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 Emba.s.sy, 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 a.s.semblies 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, G.o.d 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 a.s.sist no h.e.l.lene who had not previously a.s.sisted you. These words he had the callous shamelessness to utter in the very presence and hearing of the amba.s.sadors[n] whom you had summoned from the h.e.l.lenic 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 Emba.s.sy 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 a.s.sembly came, and it was our duty to address you, the defendant Aeschines came forward before any of his colleagues-and I entreat you, in G.o.d'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 Emba.s.sy- 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 G.o.d[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 amba.s.sadors, '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 p.r.o.nouncement 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 att.i.tude 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 compa.s.s. 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 pa.s.sed 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 amba.s.sadors, nor thought fit to invite them to the Town Hall.[n] From the foundation of the city to this day, no body of amba.s.sadors 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 amba.s.sadors to the Town Hall by the Council. If Aeschines a.s.serts 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 a.s.sumption 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 a.s.sembly 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 amba.s.sadors. 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 amba.s.sadors 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 n.o.ble 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 amba.s.sadors 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 a.s.sembly, 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 pa.s.sage, 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 pa.s.s 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 amba.s.sadors 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 pa.s.s, 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 grat.i.tude 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 a.s.sistance 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 a.s.sistance 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 a.s.sistance 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 a.s.sembly, and had received this decree of Philocrates, and heard the defendant's announcement and his promises, everything combined to effect their doom. Consider the circ.u.mstances. 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 amba.s.sadors 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 a.s.sistance 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 a.s.sistance 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 a.s.sembly, 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 a.s.sembly 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 a.s.sistance. Now listen to what befell them, because Aeschines prevented your going to their a.s.sistance. (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 Pa.s.s 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 surpa.s.sed in our day in the h.e.l.lenic 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 h.e.l.lenic 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 dest.i.tute 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 h.e.l.lenic 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 amba.s.sadors-though they would have to meet you and look you in the face, and pa.s.s 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 p.r.o.nounced in your name, men of Athens, by the herald, at every meeting of the a.s.sembly, as the law appoints; and when the Council sits, it is p.r.o.nounced 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 G.o.ds, or rather claim from them as your due; and should acquit a man whom you pray to the G.o.ds to destroy utterly-himself, his race and his house. You must not do this. You may leave it to the G.o.ds 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 G.o.ds.

{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 amba.s.sadors 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 a.s.sistance, 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 amba.s.sador, 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 trespa.s.s 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 a.s.suredly 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 amba.s.sador 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 amba.s.sador 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 circ.u.mstances of the time, you were induced to sacrifice by the deceptions and the lying statements of these amba.s.sadors-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 grat.i.tude. 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 G.o.ds 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 n.o.bly deserved. (To the clerk.) Now read the next decree.

[The decree of Callisthenes is read.]

{87} This decree you pa.s.sed 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 ent.i.tled 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 amba.s.sadors; and the amba.s.sadors 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 a.s.sertion, 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 pa.s.sed unscathed through the war, and told you falsehoods whose enormity and grossness has never been surpa.s.sed, 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 G.o.d-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 const.i.tutional[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 a.s.sumption 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 amba.s.sador, 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 yo