The envoys--Antipater, Parmenio, and Eurylochus--reached Athens shortly after this; and before the first of the two meetings was held, the Synod of the allies of Athens, now a.s.sembled in the city, agreed to peace on such terms as the Athenian people should decide, but added a proposal that it should be permitted to any Greek State to become a party to the Peace within three months. They said nothing of alliance. Of the two meetings of the a.s.sembly, in view of the conflicting statements of Demosthenes and Aeschines, only a probable account can be given. At the first, Philocrates proposed that alliance as well as peace should be made by Athens and her allies with Philip and his allies, on the understanding that both parties should keep what they _de facto_ possessed--a provision entailing the renunciation by Athens of Amphipolis and Poteidaea; but that the Phocians and the people of Halus should be excluded. Aeschines opposed this strongly; and both he and Demosthenes claim to have supported the resolution of the allies, which would have given the excluded peoples a chance of sharing the advantage of the Peace. The feeling of the a.s.sembly was with them, although the Phocians had recently insulted the Athenians by declining to give up to Proxenus (the Athenian admiral) the towns guarding the approaches to Thermopylae, which they had themselves offered to place in the hands of Athens.
But Philocrates obtained the postponement of the decision till the next day. On the next day, if not before, it became plain that Philip's envoys would not consent to forgo the exclusion of the Phocians and Halus; but in order that the a.s.sembly might be induced to pa.s.s the resolution, the clause expressly excluding them was dropped, and peace and alliance were made between Athens and Philip, each with their allies.[n] Even this was not secured before Aeschines and his friends had deprecated rash attempts to imitate the exploits of antiquity by continuing the war, and had explained that Philip could not openly accept the Phocians as allies, but that when the Peace was concluded, he would satisfy all the wishes of the Athenians in every way; while Eubulus threatened the people with immediate war, involving personal service and heavy taxation, unless they accepted Philocrates' decree. A few days afterwards the Athenians and the representatives of the allies took the oath to observe the Peace: nothing was said about the Phocians and Halus: Cersobleptes' representative was probably not permitted to swear with the rest. The same ten amba.s.sadors as before were instructed to receive Philip's oath, and the oaths of his allies, to arrange for the ransom of prisoners, and generally to treat with Philip in the interests of Athens. Demosthenes urged his colleagues (and obtained an instruction from the Council to this effect) to sail at once, in order that Philip, who was now in Thrace, might not make conquests at the expense of Athens before ratifying the Peace; but they delayed at Oreus, went by land, instead of under the escort of Proxenus by sea, and only reached Pella (the Macedonian capital) twenty-three days after leaving Athens. Philip did not arrive for twenty-seven days more. By this time he had taken Cersobleptes prisoner, and captured Serrhium, Doriscus, and other Thracian towns, which were held by Athenian troops sent to a.s.sist Cersobleptes. Demosthenes was now openly at variance with his colleagues. He had no doubt realized the necessity of peace, but probably regarded the exclusion of the Phocians as unwarrantable, and thought that the policy of his colleagues must end in Philip's conquest of all Greece. At Pella he occupied himself in negotiations for the ransom of prisoners. After taking the oath, Philip kept the amba.s.sadors with him until he had made all preparations for his march southward, and during this time he played with them and with the envoys from the other Greek States who were present at the same time. His intention of marching to Thermopylae was clear; but he seems to have led all alike to suppose that he would fulfil their particular wishes when he had crossed the Pa.s.s. The amba.s.sadors accompanied him to Pherae, where the oath was taken by the representatives of Philip's allies; the Phocians, Halus, and Cersobleptes were excluded from the Peace. (Halus was taken by Philip's army shortly afterwards.) The amba.s.sadors of Athens then returned homewards, bearing a letter from Philip, but did not arrive at Athens before Philip had reached Thermopylae. On their return Demosthenes denounced them before the Council, which refused them the customary compliments, and (on Demosthenes' motion) determined to propose to the people that Proxenus with his squadron should be ordered to go to the aid of the Phocians and to prevent Philip from crossing the Pa.s.s. When the a.s.sembly met on the 16th of Scirophorion (shortly before the middle of July), Aeschines rose first, and announced in glowing terms the intention of Philip to turn round upon Thebes and to re-establish Thespiae and Plataeae; and hinted at the restoration to Athens of Euboea and Oropus. Then Philip's letter was read, containing no promises, but excusing the delay of the amba.s.sadors as due to his own request.
The a.s.sembly was elated at the promises announced by Aeschines; Demosthenes'
attempt to contradict the announcement failed; and on Philocrates' motion, it was resolved to extend the Peace and alliance with Philip to posterity, and to declare that if the Phocians refused to surrender the Temple of Delphi to the Amphictyons, Athens would take steps against those responsible for the refusal.
Demosthenes refused to serve on the Emba.s.sy appointed to convey this resolution to Philip: Aeschines was appointed, but was too ill to start. The amba.s.sadors set out, but within a few days returned with the news that the Phocian army had surrendered to Philip (its leader, Phalaecus, and his troops being allowed to depart to the Peloponnese). The surrender had perhaps been accelerated by the news of the Athenian resolution. The a.s.sembly, in alarm lest Philip should march southwards, now resolved to take measures of precaution and defence, and to send the same amba.s.sadors to Philip, to do what they could. They went, Aeschines among them, and arrived in the midst of the festivities with which Philip was celebrating the success of his plans. The invitation which Philip sent to Athens--to send a force to join his own, and to a.s.sist in settling the affairs of Phocis--was (on Demosthenes' advice) declined by the a.s.sembly; and soon afterwards another letter from Philip expressed surprise at the unfriendly att.i.tude taken up by the Athenians towards him. Philip next summoned the Amphictyonic Council (the legitimate guardians of the Delphian Temple, on whose behalf the Thebans and Thessalians, aided by Philip, were now at war with the Phocians): and the Council, in the absence of many of its members, resolved to transfer the votes of the Phocians in the Council-meeting to Philip, to break up the Phocian towns into villages, disarming their inhabitants and taking away their horses, to require them to repay the stolen treasure to the temple by instalments, and to p.r.o.nounce a curse upon those actually guilty of sacrilege, which would render them liable to arrest anywhere. The destructive part of the sentence was rigorously executed by the Thebans. In order to punish the former supporters of the Phocians, the right to precedence in consulting the oracle was transferred from Athens to Philip, by order of the Council, and the Spartans were excluded from the temple: Orchomenus and Coroneia were destroyed and their inhabitants enslaved; and Thebes became absolute mistress of all Boeotia. The Pythian games (at Delphi) in September 346 were celebrated under Philip's presidency; but both Sparta and Athens refused to send the customary deputation to them, and Philip accordingly sent envoys to Athens, along with representatives of the Amphictyons, to demand recognition for himself as an Amphictyonic power. Aeschines supported the demand, his argument being apparently to the effect that Philip had been forced to act as he had done by the Thebans and Thessalians; but the a.s.sembly was very angry at the results (as they seemed to be) of Aeschines' diplomacy and the calamities of the Phocians; and it was only when Demosthenes, in the Speech on the Peace, advised compliance, that they were persuaded to give way. To have refused would have brought the united forces of the Amphictyonic States against Athens: and these she could not have resisted. It was therefore prudent to keep the Peace, though Demosthenes evidently regarded it only as an armistice.]
{1} I see, men of Athens, that our present situation is one of great perplexity and confusion, for not only have many of our interests been sacrificed, so that it is of no use to make eloquent speeches about them; but even as regards what still remains to us, there is no general agreement in any single point as to what is expedient: some hold one view, and some another. {2} Perplexing, moreover, and difficult as deliberation naturally is, men of Athens, you have made it far more difficult. For while all the rest of mankind are in the habit of resorting to deliberation before the event, you do not do so until afterwards: and consequently, during the whole time that falls within my memory, however high a reputation for eloquence one who upbraids you for all your errors may enjoy, the desired results and the objects of your deliberation pa.s.s out of your grasp. {3} And yet I believe--and it is because I have convinced myself of this that I have risen--that if you resolve to abandon all clamour and contention, as becomes men who are deliberating on behalf of their country upon so great an issue, I shall be able to describe and recommend measures to you, by which the situation may be improved, and what we have sacrificed, recovered.
{4} Now although I know perfectly well, men of Athens, that to speak to you about one's own earlier speeches, and about oneself, is a practice which is always extremely repaying, I feel the vulgarity and offensiveness of it so strongly, that I shrink from it even when I see that it is necessary. I think, however, that you will form a better judgement on the subject on which I am about to speak, if I remind you of some few of the things which I have said on certain previous occasions. {5} In the first place, men of Athens, when at the time of the disturbances in Euboea[n] you were being urged to a.s.sist Plutarchus, and to undertake an inglorious and costly campaign, I came forward first and unsupported to oppose this action, and was almost torn in pieces by those who for the sake of their own petty profits had induced you to commit many grave errors: and when only a short time had elapsed, along with the shame which you incurred and the treatment which you received--treatment such as no people in the world ever before experienced at the hands of those whom they went to a.s.sist--there came the recognition by all of you of the baseness of those who had urged you to this course, and of the excellence of my own advice. {6} Again, men of Athens, I observed that Neoptolemus[n] the actor, who was allowed freedom of movement everywhere on the ground of his profession, and was doing the city the greatest mischief, was managing and directing your communications with Philip in Philip's own interest: and I came forward and informed you; and that, not to gratify any private dislike or desire to misrepresent him, as subsequent events have made plain. {7} And in this case I shall not, as before, throw the blame on any speakers or defenders of Neoptolemus--indeed, he had no defenders; it is yourselves that I blame. For had you been watching rival tragedies in the theatre, instead of discussing the vital interests of a whole State, you could not have listened with more partiality towards him, or more prejudice against me. {8} And yet, I believe, you have all now realized that though, according to his own a.s.sertion, this visit to the enemy's country was paid in order that he might get in the debts owing to him there, and return with funds to perform his public service[n] here; though he was always repeating the statement that it was monstrous to accuse those who were transferring their means from Macedonia to Athens; yet, when the Peace had removed all danger, he converted his real estate here into money, and took himself off with it to Philip. {9} These then are two events which I have foretold--events which, because their real character was exactly and faithfully disclosed by me, are a testimony to the speeches which I have delivered. A third, men of Athens, was the following; and when I have given you this one instance, I will immediately proceed to the subject on which I have come forward to speak. When we returned from the Emba.s.sy, after receiving from Philip his oath to maintain the Peace, {10} there were some[n] who promised that Thespiae and Plataeae[n] would be repeopled, and said that if Philip became master of the situation, he would save the Phocians, and would break up the city of Thebes into villages; that Oropus would be yours, and that Euboea would be restored to you in place of Amphipolis--with other hopes and deceptions of the same kind, by which you were seduced into sacrificing the Phocians in a manner that was contrary to your interest and perhaps to your honour also. But as for me, you will find that neither had I any share in this deception, nor yet did I hold my peace. On the contrary, I warned you plainly, as, I know you remember, that _I_ had no knowledge and no expectations of this kind, and that I regarded such statements as nonsense.
{11} All these plain instances of superior foresight on my part, men of Athens, I shall not ascribe to any cleverness, any boasted merits, of my own. I will not pretend that my foreknowledge and discernment are due to any causes but such as I will name; and they are two. The first, men of Athens, is that good fortune, which, I observe, is more powerful than all the cleverness and wisdom on earth.
{12} The second is the fact that my judgement and reasoning are disinterested.
No one can point to any personal gain in connexion with my public acts and words: and therefore I see what is to our interest undistorted, in the light in which the actual facts reveal it. But when you throw money into one scale of the balance, its weight carries everything with it; your judgement is instantly dragged down with it, and one who has acted so can no longer think soundly or healthily about anything.
{13} Now there is one primary condition which must be observed by any one who would furnish the city with allies or contributions or anything else--he must do it without breaking the existing Peace: not because the Peace is at all admirable or creditable to you, but because, whatever its character, it would have been better, in the actual circ.u.mstances, that it should never have been made, than that having been made, it should now be broken through our action.
For we have sacrificed many advantages which we possessed when we made it, and which would have rendered the war safer and easier for us then than it is now.
{14} The second condition, men of Athens, is that we shall not draw on these self-styled Amphictyons,[n] who are now a.s.sembled, until they have an irresistible or a plausible reason for making a united war against us. My own belief is that if war broke out again between ourselves and Philip about Amphipolis or any such claim of our own, in which the Thessalians and Argives and Thebans had no interest, none of these peoples would go to war against us, least of all--{15} and let no one raise a clamour before he hears what I have to say--least of all the Thebans; not because they are in any pleasant mood towards us; not because they would not be glad to gratify Philip; but because they know perfectly well, however stupid one may think them,[n] that if war springs up between themselves and you, _they_ will get all the hardships of war for their share, while another will sit by, waiting to secure all the advantages; and they are not likely to sacrifice themselves for such a prospect, unless the origin and the cause of the war are such as concern all alike. {16} Nor again should we, in my opinion, suffer at all, if we went to war with Thebes on account of Oropus[n] or any other purely Athenian interest. For I believe that while those who would a.s.sist ourselves or the Thebans would give their aid if their ally's own country were invaded, they would not join either in an offensive campaign.
For this is the manner of alliances--such, at least, as are worth considering; and the relationship is naturally of this kind. {17} The goodwill of each ally-- whether it be towards ourselves or towards the Thebans--does not imply the same interest in our conquest of others as in our existence. Our continued existence they would all desire for their own sakes; but none of them would wish that through conquest either of us should become their own masters. What is it then that I regard with apprehension? What is it that we must guard against? I fear lest a common pretext should be supplied for the coming war, a common charge against us, which will appeal to all alike. {18} For if the Argives[n] and Messenians and Megalopolitans, and some of the other Peloponnesians who are in sympathy with them, adopt a hostile att.i.tude towards us owing to our negotiations for peace with Sparta, and the belief that to some extent we are giving our approval to the policy which the Spartans have pursued: if the Thebans already (as we are told) detest us, and are sure to become even more hostile, because we are harbouring those whom they have exiled,[n] and losing no opportunity of displaying our ill-will towards them; {19} and the Thessalians, because we are offering a refuge to the Phocian fugitives;[n] and Philip, because we are preventing his admission to Amphictyonic rank; my fear is that, when each power has thus its separate reasons for resentment, they may unite in the war against us, with the decrees of the Amphictyons for their pretext: and so each may be drawn on farther than their several interests would carry them, just as they were in dealing with the Phocians. {20} For you doubtless realize that it was not through any unity in their respective ambitions, that the Thebans and Philip and the Thessalians all acted together just now. The Thebans, for instance, could not prevent Philip from marching through and occupying the pa.s.ses, nor even from stepping in at the last moment to reap the credit of all that they themselves had toiled for.[n] {21} For, as it is, though the Thebans have gained something so far as the recovery of their territory is concerned, their honour and reputation have suffered shamefully, since it now appears as though they would have gained nothing, unless Philip had crossed the Pa.s.s. This was not what they intended. They only submitted to all this in their anxiety to obtain Orchomenus and Coroneia, and their inability to do so otherwise. {22} And as to Philip, some persons,[n] as you know, are bold enough to say that it was not from any wish to do so that he handed over Orchomenus and Coroneia to Thebes, but from compulsion; and although I must part company with them there, I am sure that at least he did not want to do this _more_ than he desired to occupy the pa.s.ses, and to get the credit of appearing to have determined the issue of the war, and to manage the Pythian games by his own authority. These, I am sure, were the objects which he coveted most greedily. {23} The Thessalians, again, did not desire to see either the Thebans or Philip growing powerful; for in any such contingency they thought that they themselves were menaced. But they did desire to secure two privileges--admission to the Amphictyonic meeting, and the recovery of rights at Delphi;[n] and in their eagerness for these privileges, they joined Philip in the actions in question. Thus you will find that each was led on, for the sake of private ends, to take action which they in no way desired to take. But this is the very thing against which we have now to be on our guard.
{24} 'Are we then, for fear of this, to submit to Philip? and do _you_ require this of us?' you ask me. Far from it. Our action must be such as will be in no way unworthy of us, and at the same time will not lead to war, but will prove to all our good sense and the justice of our position: and, in answer to those who are bold enough to think that we should refuse to submit to anything whatever,[n] [2] and who cannot foresee the war that must follow, I wish to urge this consideration. We are allowing the Thebans to hold Oropus; and if any one asked us to state the reason honestly, we should say that it was to avoid war.
{25} Again, we have just ceded Amphipolis to Philip by the Treaty of Peace;[n]
we permit the Cardians[n] to occupy a position apart from the other colonists in the Chersonese; we allow the Prince of Caria[n] to seize the islands of Chios, Cos, and Rhodes, and the Byzantines to drive our vessels to sh.o.r.e[n]--obviously because we believe that the tranquillity afforded by peace brings more blessings than any collision or contention over these grievances would bring: so that it would be a foolish and an utterly perverse policy, when we have behaved in this manner towards each of our adversaries individually, where our own most essential interests were concerned, to go now to war with all of them together, on account of this shadow at Delphi.[n]
FOOTNOTES
[1] The term 'the allies of Athens' was ambiguous. It might be taken (as it was taken by Philip and his envoys) to include only the remaining members of the League (see p. 9), who were represented by the Synod then sitting, and whose policy Athens could control. But it was evidently possible to put a wider interpretation upon it, as the a.s.sembly probably did and as Demosthenes often does (e.g. Speech on Emba.s.sy, -- 278), and to understand it as including the Phocians and others (such as Cersobleptes) with whom Athens had a treaty of alliance. Much of the trouble which followed arose out of this ambiguity.
[2] [Greek: oud hotioun].
THE SECOND PHILIPPIC (OR. VI)
[_Introduction_. After settling affairs at Delphi in 346, Philip returned to Macedonia. During a considerable part of 345 and in the early months of 344 he was occupied with campaigns against the Illyrians, Dardani, and Triballi. But in the summer (probably) of 344 he resumed his activities in Greece, garrisoning Pherae and other towns of Thessaly with Macedonians, appropriating the revenues derived from the Thessalian ports, and establishing oligarchical governments throughout the country. At the same time negotiations were going on between himself and Athens with regard to the Thracian strongholds which he had captured in 346. He refused to give these up, though he offered to cut a ca.n.a.l across the Chersonese, for the protection of the Athenian allies there from the attacks of the Thracians. He also sent money and mercenaries to help the Messenians and Argives, who, like the Megalopolitans, were anxious to secure their independence of Sparta. Athens, which was on friendly terms with Sparta, sent envoys to the Peloponnesian states to counteract Philip's influence, and of these Demosthenes was one. In return, Argos and Messene complained to Athens of her interference with their attempt to secure freedom, and Philip sent envoys to deprecate the charges made against him by the Athenian amba.s.sadors in the Peloponnese. He pointed out that he had not broken any promises made to Athens at the time of the Peace, for he had made none. (In fact, if Demosthenes' account is correct, he had confined himself to vague expressions of goodwill; the promises had been made by Aeschines.) The Second Philippic, spoken late in 344, proposes a reply to Philip, the text of which has unfortunately not come down to us. The Peloponnesian envoys appear also to have been in Athens at the time; and Philip's supporters had put forward various explanations of his conduct at the time when the Peace was made. To these also Demosthenes replies.]
{1} In all our discussions, men of Athens, with regard to the acts of violence by which Philip contravenes the terms of the Peace, I observe that, although the speeches on our side are always manifestly just and sympathetic,[n] and although those who denounce Philip are always regarded as saying what ought to be said, yet practically nothing is done which ought to be done, or which would make it worth while to listen to such speeches. {2} On the contrary, the condition of public affairs as a whole has already been brought to a point at which, the more and the more evidently a speaker can convict Philip both of transgressing the Peace which he made with you and of plotting against all the h.e.l.lenes, the harder it is for him to advise you how you should act. {3} The responsibility for this rests with us all, men of Athens. It is by deeds and actions, not by words, that a policy of encroachment must be arrested: and yet, in the first place, we who rise to address you will not face the duty of proposing or advising such action, for fear of unpopularity with you, though we dilate upon the character of Philip's acts, upon their atrocity, and so forth; and, in the second place, you who sit and listen, better qualified though you doubtless are than Philip for using the language of justice and appreciating it at the mouths of others, are nevertheless absolutely inert, when it is a question of preventing him from executing the designs in which he is now engaged. {4} It follows as the inevitable and perhaps reasonable consequence, that you are each more successful in that to which your time and your interest is given--he in actions, yourselves in words. Now if it is still enough for you, that your words are more just than his, your course is easy, and no labour is involved in it.
{5} But if we are to inquire how the evil of the present situation is to be corrected; if its advance is not still to continue, unperceived, until we are confronted by a power so great that we cannot even raise a hand in our own defence; then we must alter our method of deliberation, and all of us who speak, and all of you who listen, must resolve to prefer the counsels which are best, and which can save us, to those which are most easy and most attractive.
{6} I am amazed, men of Athens, in the first place, that any one who sees the present greatness of Philip and the wide mastery which he has gained, can be free from alarm, or can imagine that this involves no peril to Athens, or that it is not against you that all his preparations are being made. And I would beg you, one and all, to listen while I put before you in a few words the reasoning by which I have come to entertain the opposite expectation, and the grounds upon which I regard Philip as an enemy; that so, if my own foresight appears to you the truer, you may believe me; but if that of the persons who have no fears and have placed their trust in him, you may give your adhesion to them. {7} Here then, men of Athens, is my argument. Of what, in the first place, did Philip become master, when the Peace was concluded? Of Thermopylae, and of the situation in Phocis. Next, what use did he make of his power? He deliberately chose to act in the interests of Thebes, not in those of Athens. And why? He scrutinized every consideration in the light of his own ambition and of his desire for universal conquest: he took no thought for peace, or tranquillity, or justice; {8} and he saw quite correctly that our state and our national character being what they are, there was no attraction that he could offer, nothing that he could do, which would induce you to sacrifice any of the other h.e.l.lenes to him for your own advantage. He saw that you would take account of what was right; that you would shrink from the infamy attaching to such a policy; that you would exercise all the foresight which the situation demanded, and would oppose any such attempt on his part, as surely as if you were at open war with him. {9} But the Thebans, he believed--and the event proved that he was right--in return for what they were getting would let him do as he pleased in all that did not concern them; and far from acting against him, or preventing him effectively, would even join him in his campaign, if he bade them. His services to the Messenians and the Argives at the present moment are due to his having formed the same conception of them. And this, men of Athens, is the highest of all tributes to yourselves: {10} for these actions of his amount to a verdict upon you, that you alone of all peoples would never, for any gain to yourselves, sacrifice the common rights of the h.e.l.lenes, nor barter away your loyalty to them for any favour or benefit at his hands. This conception of you he has naturally formed, just as he has formed the opposite conception of the Argives and the Thebans, not only from his observation of the present, but also from his consideration of the past. {11} He discovers, I imagine, and is told, how when your forefathers might have been rulers of the rest of the h.e.l.lenes, on condition of submitting to the king themselves, they not only refused to tolerate the suggestion, on the occasion when Alexander [n], the ancestor of the present royal house, came as his herald to negotiate, but chose rather to leave their country and to face any suffering which they might have to endure; and how they followed up the refusal by those deeds which all are so eager to tell, but to which no one has ever been able to do justice; and for that reason, I shall myself forbear to speak of them, and rightly; for the grandeur of their achievements pa.s.ses the power of language to describe. He knows, on the other hand, how the forefathers of the Thebans and Argives, in the one case, joined the barbarian army, in the other, offered no resistance to it. {12} He knows, therefore, that both these peoples will welcome what is to their own advantage, instead of considering the common interests of the h.e.l.lenes: and so he thought that, if he chose you for his allies, he would be choosing friends who would only serve a righteous cause; while if he joined himself to them, he would win accomplices who would further his own ambitions. That is why he chose them, as he chooses them now, in preference to you. For he certainly does not see them in possession of more ships than you; nor has he discovered some inland empire, and withdrawn from the seaboard and the trading-ports; nor does he forget the words and the promises, on the strength of which he was granted the Peace.
{13} But some one may tell us, with an air of complete knowledge of the matter, that what then moved Philip to act thus was not his ambition nor any of the motives which I impute to him, but his belief that the demands of Thebes were more righteous than your own. I reply, that this statement, above all others, is one which he cannot possibly make _now_. How can one who is ordering Sparta to give up Messene put forward his belief in the righteousness of the act, as his excuse for handing over Orchomenus and Coroneia to Thebes?
{14} 'But,' we are told (as the last remaining plea), 'he was forced to make these concessions, and did so against his better judgement, finding himself caught between the cavalry of Thessaly and the infantry of Thebes.' Admirable!
And so, we are informed, he intends henceforth to be wary of the Thebans, and the tale goes round that he intends to fortify Elateia [n]. 'Intends,' indeed!
and I expect that it will remain an intention! {15} But the help which he is giving to the Messenians and Argives is no 'intention'; for he is actually sending mercenaries to them and dispatching funds, and is himself expected to arrive on the spot with a great force. Is he trying to annihilate the Spartans, the existing enemies of Thebes, and at the same time protecting the Phocians, whom he himself has ruined? Who will believe such a tale? {16} For if Philip had really acted against his will and under compulsion in the first instance--if he were now really intending to renounce the Thebans--I cannot believe that he would be so consistently opposing their enemies. On the contrary, his present course plainly proves that his former action also was the result of deliberate policy; and to any sound observation, it is plain that the whole of his plans are being organized for one end--the destruction of Athens. {17} Indeed, this has now come to be, in a sense, a matter of necessity for him. Only consider. It is empire that he desires, and you, as he believes, are his only possible rivals in this. He has been acting wrongfully towards you for a long time, as he himself best knows; for it is the occupation of your possessions that enables him to hold all his other conquests securely, convinced, as he is, that if he had let Amphipolis and Poteidaea go, he could not dwell in safety even at home.
{18} These two facts, then, he well knows--first, that his designs are aimed at you, and secondly, that you are aware of it: and as he conceives you to be men of sense, he considers that you hold him in righteous detestation: and, in consequence, his energies are roused: for he expects to suffer disaster, if you get your opportunity, unless he can antic.i.p.ate you by inflicting it upon you.
{19} So he is wide awake; he is on the alert; he is courting the help of others against Athens--of the Thebans and those Peloponnesians who sympathize with their wishes; thinking that their desire of gain will make them embrace the immediate prospect, while their native stupidity will prevent them from foreseeing any of the consequences. Yet there are examples, plainly visible to minds which are even moderately well-balanced[n]--examples which it fell to my lot to bring before Messenian and Argive audiences, but which had better, perhaps, be laid before yourselves as well.
{20} 'Can you not imagine,' I said, 'men of Messenia, the impatience with which the Olynthians used to listen to any speeches directed against Philip in those times, when he was giving up Anthemus to them--a city claimed as their own by all former Macedonian kings; when he was expelling the Athenian colonists from Poteidaea and presenting it to the Olynthians; when he had taken upon his own shoulders their quarrel with Athens, and given them the enjoyment of that territory? Did they expect, do you think, to suffer as they have done? if any one had foretold it, would they have believed him? {21} And yet,' I continued, 'after enjoying territory not their own for a very short time, they are robbed of their own by him for a great while to come; they are foully driven forth--not conquered merely, but betrayed by one another and sold; for it is not safe for a free state to be on these over-friendly terms with a tyrant. {22} What, again, of the Thessalians? Do you imagine,' I asked, 'that when he was expelling their tyrants, or again, when he was giving them Nicaea and Magnesia, they expected to see the present Council of Ten[n] established in their midst? Did they expect that the restorer of their Amphictyonic rights would take their own revenues from them for himself? Impossible! And yet these things came to pa.s.s, as all men may know. {23} You yourselves,' I continued, 'at present behold only the gifts and the promises of Philip. Pray, if you are really in your right minds, that you may never see the accomplishment of his deceit and treachery. There are, as you know well,' I said, 'all kinds of inventions designed for the protection and security of cities--palisades, walls, trenches, and every kind of defence. {24} All these are made with hands, and involve expense as well. But there is one safeguard which all sensible men possess by nature--a safeguard which is a valuable protection to all, but above all to a democracy against a tyrant. And what is this? It is distrust. Guard this possession and cleave to it; preserve this, and you need never fear disaster. {25} What is it that you desire?' I said. 'Is it freedom? And do you not see that the very t.i.tles that Philip bears are utterly alien to freedom? For a king, a tyrant, is always the foe of freedom and the enemy of law. Will you not be on your guard,' I said, 'lest in striving to be rid of war, you find yourselves slaves?'[n]
{26} My audience heard these words and received them with a tumult of approbation, as well as many other speeches from the envoys, both when I was present and again later. And yet, it seems, there is still no better prospect of their keeping Philip's friendship and promises at a distance. {27} In fact, the extraordinary thing is not that Messenians and certain Peloponnesians should act against their own better judgement, but that you who understand for yourselves, and who hear us, your orators, telling you, that there is a design against you, and that the toils are closing round you--that you, I say, by always refusing to act at once, should be about to find (as I think you will) that you have exposed yourselves unawares to the utmost peril: so much more does the pleasure and ease of the moment weigh with you, than any advantage to be reaped at some future date.
{28} In regard to the practical measures which you must take, you will, if you are wise, deliberate by yourselves[n] later. But I will at once propose an answer which you may make to-day, and which it will be consistent with your duty to have adopted.
[_The answer is read._]
Now the right course, men of Athens, was to have summoned before you those who conveyed the promises[n] on the strength of which you were induced to make the Peace. {29} For I could never have brought myself to serve on the Emba.s.sy, nor, I am sure, would you have discontinued the war, had you imagined that Philip, when he had obtained peace, would act as he has acted. What we were then told was something very different from this. And there are others, too, whom you should summon. You ask whom I mean? After the Peace had been made, and I had returned from the Second Emba.s.sy, which was sent to administer the oaths, I saw how the city was being hoodwinked, and I spoke out repeatedly, protesting and forbidding you to sacrifice Thermopylae and the Phocians: {30} and the men to whom I refer were those who then said that a water-drinker[n] like myself was naturally a fractious and ill-tempered fellow; while Philip, if only he crossed the Pa.s.s, would fulfil your fondest prayers; for he would fortify Thespiae and Plataeae; he would put an end to the insolence of the Thebans; he would cut a ca.n.a.l through the Chersonese at his own charges, and would repay you for Amphipolis by the restoration of Euboea and Oropus. All this was said from this very platform, and I am quite sure that you remember it well, though your memory of those who injure you is but short. {31} To crown your disgrace, with nothing but these hopes in view, you resolved that this same Peace should hold good for your posterity also; so completely had you fallen under their influence. But why do I speak of all this now? why do I bid you summon these men? By Heaven, I will tell the truth without reserve, and will hold nothing back. {32} My object is not to give way to abuse, and so secure myself as good a hearing[n] as others in this place, while giving those who have come into collision with me from the first an opportunity for a further claim[n] upon Philip's money. Nor do I wish to waste time in empty words. {33} No; but I think that the plan which Philip is pursuing will some day trouble you more than the present situation does; for his design is moving towards fulfilment, and though I shrink from precise conjecture, I fear its accomplishment may even now be only too close at hand.
And when the time comes when you can no longer refuse to attend to what is pa.s.sing; when you no longer hear from me or from some other that it is all directed against you, but all alike see it for yourselves and know it for a certainty; then, I think, you will be angry and harsh enough. {34} And I am afraid that because your envoys have withheld from you the guilty secret of the purposes which they have been bribed to forward, those who are trying to remedy in some degree the ruin of which these men have been the instruments will fall victims to your wrath. For I observe that it is the general practice of some persons to vent their anger, not upon the guilty, but upon those who are most within their grasp. {35} While then the trouble is still to come, still in process of growth, while we can still listen to one another's words, I would remind each of you once more of what he well knows--who it was that induced you to sacrifice the Phocians and Thermopylae, the control of which gave Philip command of the road to Attica and the Peloponnesus; who it was, I say, that converted your debate about your rights and your interests abroad into a debate about the safety of your own country, and about war on your own borders--a war which will bring distress to each of us personally, when it is at our doors, but which sprang into existence on that day. {36} Had you not been misled by them, no trouble would have befallen this country. For we cannot imagine that Philip would have won victories by sea which would have enabled him to approach Attica with his fleet, or would have marched by land past Thermopylae and the Phocians; but he would either have been acting straightforwardly--keeping the Peace and remaining quiet; or else he would have found himself instantly plunged into a war no less severe than that which originally made him desirous of the Peace.
{37} What I have said is sufficient by way of a reminder to you. Heaven grant that the time may not come when the truth of my words will be tested with all severity: for I at least have no desire to see any one meet with punishment, however much he may deserve his doom, if it is accompanied by danger and calamity to us all.
ON THE EMBa.s.sY (OR. XIX)
[_Introduction_. The princ.i.p.al events with which a reader of this Speech ought to be acquainted have already been narrated (see especially the Introductions to the last two Speeches). The influence of the anti-Macedonian party grew gradually from the time of the Peace onwards. In 346, within a month after the return of the Second Emba.s.sy, the amba.s.sadors presented their reports before the Logistae or Board of Auditors (after a futile attempt on the part of Aeschines to avoid making a report altogether); and Timarchus, supported by Demosthenes, there announced his intention of taking proceedings against Aeschines for misconduct on the Second Emba.s.sy. But Timarchus' own past history was not above reproach: he was attacked by Aeschines for the immoralities of his youth, which, it was stated, disqualified him from acting as prosecutor, and though defended by Demosthenes, was condemned and disfranchised (345 B.C.). But early in 343 Hypereides impeached Philocrates for corruption as amba.s.sador, and obtained his condemnation to death--a penalty which he escaped by voluntary exile before the conclusion of the trial; and, later in the same year, Demosthenes brought the same charge against Aeschines.
In the meantime (since the delivery of Demosthenes' Second Philippic) Philip had been making fresh progress. The Arcadians and Argives (for the Athenian envoys to the Peloponnese in 344 seem to have had little success) were ready to open their gates to him. His supporters in Elis ma.s.sacred their opponents, and with them the remnant of the Phocians who had crossed over to Elis with Phalaecus. At Megara, Perillus and Ptoeodorus almost succeeded in bringing a force of Philip's mercenaries into the town, but the attempt was defeated, by the aid of an Athenian force under Phocion. In Euboea Philip's troops occupied Porthmus, where the democratic party of Eretria had taken refuge, owing to an overthrow of the const.i.tution (brought about by Philip's intrigues) which resulted in the establishment of Cleitarchus as tyrant. In the course of the same year (343) occurred two significant trials. The first was that of Antiphon, who had made an offer to Philip to burn the Athenian dockyards at the Peiraeus. He was summarily arrested by order of Demosthenes (probably in virtue of some administrative office): Aeschines obtained his release, but he was re-arrested by order of the Council of Areopagus[1] and condemned to death. The other trial was held before the Amphictyonic Council on the motion of the people of Delos, to decide whether the Athenians should continue to possess the right of managing the Temple of Delos. The a.s.sembly chose Aeschines as counsel for Athens; but the Council of Areopagus, which had been given power to revise the appointment, put Hypereides in his place. Hypereides won the case. Early in 343 (or at all events before the middle of the year), Philip sent Python of Byzantium to complain of the language used about him by Athenian orators, and to offer to revise and amend the terms of the Peace of Philocrates. In response, an emba.s.sy was sent, headed by Hegesippus, a violent opponent of Macedonia, to propose to Philip (1) that instead of the clause 'that each party shall retain possession of what they have', a clause, 'that each party shall possess what is their own,' should be subst.i.tuted; and (2) that all Greek States not included in the Treaty of Peace should be declared free, and that Athens and Philip should a.s.sist them, if they were attacked. These proposals, if sanctioned, would obviously have reopened the question of Amphipolis, Pydna, and Poteidaea, as well as of Cardia and the Thracian towns taken by Philip in 346. Hegesippus, moreover, was personally objectionable, and the emba.s.sy was dismissed with little courtesy by Philip, who even banished from Macedonia the Athenian poet Xenocleides for acting as host to the envoys. The feeling against Philip in Athens was evidently strong, when the prosecution of Aeschines by Demosthenes took place.
The trial was held before a jury (probably consisting of 1,501 persons), presided over by the Board of Auditors. Demosthenes spoke first, and Aeschines replied in a speech which is preserved. There is no doubt, on a comparison of the two speeches, that each, before it was published, received alterations and insertions, intended to meet the adversary's points, or to give a better colour to pa.s.sages which had been unfavourably received. Probably not all the refutations 'in advance' were such in reality. But there is no sufficient reason to doubt that the speeches were delivered substantially as we have them.
Aeschines was acquitted by thirty votes.
The question of the guilt or innocence of Aeschines will probably never be finally settled. A great part of his conduct can be explained as a sincere attempt to carry out the policy of Eubulus, or as the issue of a genuine belief that it was best for Athens to make terms with Philip and stand on his side.
Even so the wisdom and the veracity of certain speeches which he had made is open to grave question; but this is a different thing from corruption. Moreover, to some of Demosthenes' arguments he has a conclusive reply. It is more difficult to explain his apparent change of opinion between the 18th and 19th of Elaphebolion, 346 (if Demosthenes' report of the debates is to be trusted); and some writers are disposed to date his corruption from the intervening night. Nor is it easy to meet Demosthenes' argument that if Aeschines had really been taken in by Philip, and believed the promises which he announced, or if he had actually heard Philip make the promises, he would have regarded Philip afterwards as a personal enemy, and not as a friend. But even on these points Aeschines might reply (though he could not reply so to the Athenian people or jury) that though he did not trust the promises, he regarded the interest of Athens as so closely bound up with the alliance with Philip, that he considered it justifiable to deceive the people into making the alliance, or at least to take the risk of the promises which he announced proving untrue. In any case there is no convincing evidence of corruption; and it may be taken as practically certain that he was not bribed to perform particular services. It is less certain that he was not influenced by generous presents from Philip in forming his judgement of Philip's character and intentions. The standard of Athenian public opinion in regard to the receipt of presents was not that of the English Civil Service; and the ancient orators accuse one another of corruption almost as a matter of course. (We have seen that Demosthenes began the attack upon Eubulus' party in this form as early as the Speech for the Rhodians; it appears in almost every subsequent oration: and in their turn, his opponents make the same charge against him.) It is, in any case, remarkable that at a time when the people was plainly exasperated with the Peace and its authors, and very ill-disposed towards Philip, a popular jury nevertheless acquitted Aeschines; and the verdict is not sufficiently explained either by the fact that Eubulus supported Aeschines or by the jurors' memory of Demosthenes' own part in the earlier peace-negotiations, though this must have weakened the force of his attack. That Demosthenes himself believed Aeschines to have been bribed, and could himself see no other explanation of his conduct, need not be doubted; and although the speech contains some of those misrepresentations of fact and pa.s.sages of irrelevant personal abuse which deface some of his best work, it also contains some of his finest pieces of oratory and narrative.
The second part of the speech is more broken up into short sections and less clearly arranged than the first; earlier arguments are repeated, and a few pa.s.sages may be due (at least in their present shape) to revision after the trial: but the latter part even as it stands is successful in leaving the points of greatest importance strongly impressed upon the mind.
The following a.n.a.lysis of the speech may enable the reader to find his way through it without serious difficulty:--
INTRODUCTION (---- 1-28)
(i) _Exordium_ (---- 1, 2). Impartiality requested of the jury, in view of Aeschines' attempt to escape by indirect means.
(ii) _Points of the trial_ (---- 3-8). An amba.s.sador must (1) give true reports; (2) give good advice; (3) obey his instructions; (4) not lose time; (5) be incorruptible.
(iii) _Preliminary exposition of the arguments_ (---- 9-28).
(1) The previous anti-Macedonian zeal of Aeschines suddenly collapsed after the First Emba.s.sy.
(2) In the deliberations on the Peace, Aeschines supported Philocrates.
(3) After the Second Emba.s.sy, Aeschines prevented Athens from guarding Thermopylae and saving the Phocians, by false reports and promises.