PART II (§§ 179-343)

(i) The injury done to Athens--

(a) by the loss of Thrace and the Hellespont;

(b) generally, by false reports from ambassadors (§§ 179-86).

(ii) Refutation of anticipated objections--

(a) 'It is not Philip's fault that he has not satisfied Athens'

(§ 187).

(b) 'Demosthenes has no right to prosecute' (§§ 188-220): including a

digression (§§ 192-200) on Aeschines' character and incidents in

his life.

(iii) Demosthenes' object in prosecuting, passing into reproof of the

laxity of Athens towards traitors (§§ 221-33).

(iv) Warning against any attempt by Aeschines to confuse the dates and

incidents of the two Embassies (§§ 234-6.)

(v) Criticism of Aeschines' brothers and his prosecution of Timarchus

(§§ 237-58).

(vi) The increasing danger from traitors, and the traditional attitude

of Athens towards them (§§ 259-87).

(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 canvassing has taken place, must, I feel sure, have become fairly

evident to you all, after the persistent overtures just now made to

you, while you were drawing your lots.[n] Yet I will make the request

of you all--a request which ought to be granted even when unasked--that

you will not allow the favour or the person of any man to weigh more

with you than justice and the oath which each of you swore before he

entered the court. Remember that what I ask is for your own welfare and

for that of the whole State; while the entreaties and the eager

interest of the supporters of the accused have for their aim the

selfish advantage of individuals: and it is not to confirm criminals in

the possession of such advantages that the laws have called you

together, but to prevent their attainment of them. {2} Now I observe

that while all who enter upon public life in an honest spirit profess

themselves under a perpetual responsibility, even when they have passed

their formal examination, the defendant Aeschines does the very

reverse. For before entering your presence to give an account of his

actions, he has put out of the way one of those[n] who appeared against

him at his examination; and others he pursues with threats, thus

introducing into public life a practice which is of all the most

atrocious and most contrary to your interests. For if one who has

transacted and managed any public business is to render himself secure

against accusation by spreading terror round him, rather than by the

justice of his case, your supremacy[n] must pass entirely out of your

hands.

{3} I have every confidence and belief that I shall prove the defendant

guilty of many atrocious crimes, for which he deserves the extreme

penalty of the law. But I will tell you frankly of the fear which

troubles me in spite of this confidence. It seems to me, men of Athens,

that the issue of every trial before you is determined as much by the

occasion as by the facts; and I am afraid that the length of time which

has elapsed since the Embassy may have caused you to forget the crimes

of Aeschines, or to be too familiar with them. {4} I will tell you

therefore how, in spite of this, you may yet, as I believe, arrive at a

just decision and give a true verdict to-day. You have, gentlemen of

the jury, to inquire and to consider what are the points on which it is

proper to demand an account from an ambassador. He is responsible first

for his report; secondly, for what he has persuaded you to do; thirdly,

for his execution of your instructions; next, for dates; and, besides

all these things, for the integrity or venality of his conduct

throughout. {5} And why is he responsible in these respects? Because on

his report must depend your discussion of the situation: if his report

is true, your decision is a right one: if otherwise, it is the reverse.

Again, you regard the counsels of ambassadors as especially

trustworthy. You listen to them in the belief that they have personal

knowledge of the matter with which they were sent to deal. Never,

therefore, ought an ambassador to be convicted of having given you any

worthless or pernicious advice. {6} Again, it is obviously proper that

he should have carried out your instructions to him with regard to both

speech and action, and your express resolutions as to his conduct. Very

good. But why is he responsible for dates? Because, men of Athens, it

often happens that the opportunity upon which much that is of great

importance depends lasts but for a moment; and if this opportunity is

deliberately and treacherously surrendered to the enemy, no subsequent

steps can possibly recover it. {7} But as to the integrity or

corruption of an ambassador, you would all, I am sure, admit that to

make money out of proceedings that injure the city is an atrocious

thing and deserves your heavy indignation. Yet the implied distinction

was not recognized by the framer of our law. He absolutely forbade

_all_ taking of presents, thinking, I believe, that a man who has once

received presents and been corrupted with money no longer remains even

a safe judge of what is to the interest of the city. {8} If then I can

convict the defendant Aeschines by conclusive proofs of having made a

report that was utterly untrue, and prevented the people from hearing

the truth from me; if I prove that he gave advice that was entirely

contrary to your interests; that on his mission he fulfilled none of

your instructions to him; that he wasted time, during which

opportunities for accomplishing much that was of great importance were

sacrificed and lost to the city; and that he received presents in

payment for all these services, in company with Philocrates; then

condemn him, and exact the penalty which his crimes deserve. If I fail

to prove these points, or fail to prove them all, then regard me with

contempt, and let the defendant go.

{9} I have still to charge him, men of Athens, with many atrocious acts

in addition to these--acts which would naturally call forth the

execration of every one among you. But I desire, before all else that I

am about to say, to remind you (though most of you, I know, remember it

well) of the position which Aeschines originally took up in public

life, and the speeches which he thought it right to address to the

people against Philip; for I would have you realize that his own

actions, his own speeches at the beginning of his career, are the

strongest evidence of his corruption. {10} According to his own public

declaration at that time, he was the first Athenian to perceive that

Philip had designs against the Hellenes and was corrupting certain

leading men in Arcadia. With Ischander, the son of Neoptolemus, to

second him in his performance, he came before the Council and he came

before the people, to speak on the subject: he persuaded you to send

envoys in all directions to bring together a congress at Athens to

discuss the question of war with Philip: {11} then, on his return from

Arcadia, he reported to you those noble and lengthy speeches which, he

said, he had delivered on your behalf before the Ten Thousand[n] at

Megalopolis, in reply to Philip's spokesman, Hieronymus; and he

described at length the criminal wrong that was done, not only to their

own several countries, but to all Hellas, by men who took bribes and

received money from Philip. {12} Such was his policy at that time, and

such the sample which he displayed of his sentiments. Then you were

induced by Aristodemus, Neoptolemus, Ctesiphon, and the rest of those

who brought reports from Macedonia in which there was not an honest

word, to send ambassadors to Philip and to negotiate for peace.

Aeschines himself is appointed one of them, in the belief, not that he

was one of those who would sell your interests, or had placed

confidence in Philip, but rather one who would keep an eye on the rest.

The speeches which he had already delivered, and his antipathy to

Philip, naturally led you to take this view of him. {13} Well, after

this he came to me[n] and tried to make an agreement by which we should

act in concert on the Embassy, and urged strongly that we should both

keep an eye upon that abominable and shameless man Philocrates; and

until we returned to Athens from the First Embassy, I at least, men of

Athens, had no idea that he had been corrupted and had sold himself.

For (not to mention the other speeches which, as I have told you, he

had made on former occasions) at the first of the assemblies in which

you debated about the Peace, he rose and delivered an exordium which I

think I can repeat to you word for word as he uttered it at the

meeting. {14} 'If Philocrates,' he said, 'had spent a very long time in

studying how he could best oppose the Peace, I do not think he could

have found a better device than a motion of this kind. The Peace which

he proposes is one which I can never recommend the city to make, so

long as a single Athenian remains alive. Peace, however, we ought, I

think, to make.' {15} And he made a brief and reasonable speech in the

same tone. But though he had spoken thus at the first meeting, in the

hearing of you all, yet at the second meeting, when the Peace was to be

ratified; when I was upholding the resolution of the allies and working

for a Peace on just and equitable terms; when you in your desire for

such a Peace would not even listen to the voice of the despicable

Philocrates; then, I say, Aeschines rose and spoke in support of him,

using language for which he deserves, God knows, to die many deaths,

{16} saying that you must not remember your forefathers, nor tolerate

speakers who recalled your trophies and your victories by sea; and that

he would frame and propose a law, that you should assist no Hellene who

had not previously assisted you. These words he had the callous

shamelessness to utter in the very presence and hearing of the

ambassadors[n] whom you had summoned from the Hellenic states, in

pursuance of the advice which he himself had given you, before he had

sold himself.

{17} You elected him again, men of Athens, to receive the oaths. How he

frittered away the time, how cruelly he injured all his country's

interests, and what violent mutual enmity arose between myself and him

in consequence of his conduct and of my desire to prevent it, you shall

hear presently. But when we returned from this Embassy which was sent

to receive the oaths, and the report of which is now under examination;

when we had secured nothing, either small or great, of all that had

been promised and expected when you were making the Peace, but had been

totally deceived; when they had again acted without regard to their

instructions,[n] and had conducted their mission in direct defiance of

your decree; we came before the Council: and there are many who have

personal knowledge of what I am about to tell you, for the

Council-Chamber was crowded with spectators. {18} Well, I came forward

and reported to the Council the whole truth: I denounced these men: I

recounted the whole story, beginning with those first hopes, aroused in

you by the report of Ctesiphon and Aristodemus, and going on to the

speeches which Aeschines delivered during the time of the

Peace-negotiations, and the position into which they had brought the

city: as regards all that remained to you--I meant the Phocians and

Thermopylae--I counselled you not to abandon these, not to be victims

once more of the same mistake, not to let yourselves be reduced to

extremities through depending upon a succession of hopes and promises:

and I carried the Council with me. {19} But when the day of the

Assembly came, and it was our duty to address you, the defendant

Aeschines came forward before any of his colleagues--and I entreat you,

in God's name, to follow me, and try to recollect whether what I tell

you is true; for now we have come to the very thing which so cruelly

injured and ruined your whole cause. He made not the remotest attempt

to give any report of the results of the Embassy--if indeed he

questioned the truth of my allegations at all--but instead of this, he

made statements of such a character, promising you benefits so numerous

and so magnificent, that he completely carried you away with him. {20}

For he said that,[n] before his return, he had persuaded Philip upon

all the points in which the interests of the city were involved, in

regard both to the Amphictyonic dispute and to all other matters: and

he described to you a long speech which he professed to have addressed

to Philip against the Thebans, and of which he reported to you the

substance, calculating that, as the result of his own diplomacy, you

would within two or three days, without stirring from home or taking

the field or suffering any inconvenience, hear that Thebes was being

blockaded, alone and isolated from the rest of Boeotia, {21} that

Thespiae and Plataeae were being repeopled, and that the debt due to

the god[n] was being exacted not from the Phocians, but from the

Thebans who had planned the seizure of the temple. For he said that he

gave Philip to understand that those who planned the act were no less

guilty of impiety than those whose hands executed the plan; and that on

this account the Thebans had set a price upon his head. {22} Moreover,

he said that he heard some of the Euboeans, who had been thrown into a

state of panic and confusion by the friendly relations established

between Athens and Philip, saying to the ambassadors, 'You have not

succeeded, gentlemen, in concealing from us the conditions on which you

have made your Peace with Philip; nor are we unaware that while you

have given him Amphipolis, he has undertaken to hand over Euboea to

you.' There was, indeed, another matter which he had arranged as well,

but he did not wish to mention this at present, since even as it was

some of his colleagues were jealous of him. {23} This was an

enigmatical and indirect allusion to Oropus. These utterances naturally

raised him high in your estimation; he seemed to be an admirable

speaker and a marvellous man; and he stepped down with a very lofty

air. Then I rose and denied all knowledge of these things, and at the

same time attempted to repeat some part of my report to the Council.

But they now took their stand by me, one on this side, one on that--the

defendant and Philocrates; they shouted, they interrupted me, and

finally they jeered, while you laughed. {24} You would not hear, and

you did not wish to believe anything but what Aeschines had reported.

Heaven knows, your feelings were natural enough; for who, that expected

all these marvellous benefits, would have tolerated a speaker who said

that the expectation would not be realized, or denounced the

proceedings of those who made the promise? All else, of course, was of

secondary importance at the time, in comparison with the expectations

and the hopes placed before you; any contradiction appeared to be

nothing but sheer obstruction and malignity, while the proceedings

described seemed to be of incredible importance and advantage to the

city.

{25} Now with what object have I recalled these occurrences to you

before everything else, and described these speeches of his? My first

and chief object, men of Athens, is that none of you, when he hears me

speak of any of the things that were done and is struck by their

unparalleled atrocity, may ask in surprise why I did not tell you at

once and inform you of the facts; {26} but may remember the promises

which these men made at each critical moment, and by which they

entirely prevented every one else from obtaining a hearing; and that

splendid pronouncement by Aeschines; and that you may realize that in

addition to all his other crimes, you have suffered this further wrong

at his hands--that you were prevented from learning the truth

instantly, when you ought to have learned it, because you were deluded

by hopes, deceits and promises. {27} That is my first and, as I have

said, my chief object in recalling all these occurrences. But there is

a second which is of no less importance than the first, and what is

this? It is that you may remember the policy which he adopted in his

public life, when he was still uncorrupted--his guarded and mistrustful

attitude towards Philip; and may consider the sudden growth of

confidence and friendship which followed; {28} and then, if all that he

announced to you has been realized, if the results achieved are

satisfactory, you may believe that all has been done out of an honest

interest in the welfare of Athens; but if, on the other hand, the issue

has been exactly the opposite of that which he predicted: if his policy

has involved the city in great disgrace and in grave perils, you may

then be sure that his conversion was due to his own base covetousness

and to his having sold the truth for money.

{29} And now, since I have been led on to this subject, I desire to

describe to you, before everything else, the way in which they took the

Phocian question entirely out of your hands. And let none of you,

gentlemen of the jury, when he looks at the magnitude of the

transactions, imagine that the crimes with which the defendant is

charged are on a grander scale than one of his reputation could

compass. You have rather to observe that any one whom you would have

placed in such a position as this--a position in which, as each

critical moment arrived, the decision would be in his hands--could have

brought about disasters equal to those for which Aeschines is

responsible, if, like Aeschines, he had wished to sell his services,

and to cheat and deceive you. {30} For however contemptible[n] may be

the men whom you frequently employ in the public service, it does not

follow that the part which the world expects this city to play is a

contemptible one. Far from it! And further, though it was Philip, of

course, who destroyed the Phocian people, it was Aeschines and his

party who seconded Philip's efforts. And so what you have to observe

and consider is whether, so far as the preservation of the Phocians

came within the scope of their mission, these men deliberately

destroyed and ruined that whole cause. You have not to suppose that

Aeschines ruined the Phocians by himself. How could he have done so?

{31} (_To the clerk._) Now give me the draft-resolution which the

Council passed in view of my report, and the deposition of the clerk

who wrote it. (_To the jury._) For I would have you know that I am not

repudiating to-day transactions about which I held my peace at the

time, but that I denounced them at once, with full prevision of what

must follow; and that the Council, which was not prevented from hearing

the truth from me, neither voted thanks to the ambassadors, nor thought

fit to invite them to the Town Hall.[n] From the foundation of the city

to this day, no body of ambassadors is recorded to have been treated

so; nor even Timagoras,[n] whom the people condemned to death. {32} But

these men have been so treated. (_To the clerk._) First read them the

deposition, and then the resolution.

[_The deposition and resolution are read._]

Here is no expression of thanks, no invitation of the ambassadors to

the Town Hall by the Council. If Aeschines asserts that there is any,

let him point it out and produce it, and I give way to him. But there

is none. Now on the assumption that we all fulfilled our mission in the

same way, the Council had good reason not to thank any of us, for the

transactions of all alike were in that case atrocious. But if some of

us acted uprightly, while others did the reverse, it must, it seems,

have been owing to the knavery of their colleagues that the virtuous

were forced to take their share of this dishonour. {33} How then can

you all ascertain without any difficulty who is the rogue? Recall to

your minds who it is that has denounced the transaction from the

outset. For it is plain that it must have been the guilty person who

was well content to be silent, to stave off the day of reckoning for

the moment, and to take care for the future not to present himself to

give an account of his actions; while it must have been he whose

conscience was clear to whom there occurred the thought of the danger,

lest through keeping silence he might be regarded as a partner in such

atrocious villany. Now it is I that have denounced these men from the

outset, while none of them has accused me. {34} Such then was the

resolution of the Council. The meeting of the Assembly took place when

Philip was already at Thermopylae: for this was the first of all their

crimes, that they placed Philip in command of the situation, so that,

when you ought first to have heard the facts, then to have deliberated,

and afterwards to have taken such measures as you had resolved upon,

you in fact heard nothing until he was on the spot, and it was no

longer easy to say what steps you ought to take. {35} In addition to

this, no one read the resolution of the Council to the people, and the

people never heard it; but Aeschines rose and delivered the harangue

which I just now described to you, recounting the numerous and

important benefits which he said he had, before his return, persuaded

Philip to grant, and on account of which the Thebans had set a price

upon his head. In consequence of this, appalled though you were at

first at the proximity of Philip, and angry with these men for not

having warned you of it, you became as mild as possible, having now

formed the expectation that all your wishes would be realized; and you

would not hear a word from me or from any one else. {36} After this was

read the letter from Philip, which Aeschines had written[n] when we had

left him behind, a letter which was nothing less than a direct and

express defence in writing of the misconduct of the ambassadors. For in

it is stated that Philip himself prevented them, when they were anxious

to go to the several cities and receive the oaths, and that he retained

them in order that they might help him to effect a reconciliation

between the peoples of Halus and Pharsalus. He takes upon his own

shoulders the whole of their misconduct, and makes it his own. {37} But

as to the Phocians and Thespiae, and the promises contained in

Aeschines' report to you--why, there is not the slightest mention of

them! And it was no mere accident that the proceedings took this form.

For the failure of the ambassadors to carry out or give effect to any

of the instructions imposed upon them by your resolution--the failure

for which you were bound to punish them--Philip makes himself

responsible in their stead, and says that the fault was his; for you

were not likely, of course, to be able to punish _him_. {38} But the

points in regard to which Philip wished to deceive you and to steal a

march upon the city were made the subject of the defendant's report, in

order that you might be able to find no ground of accusation or

reproach against Philip, since these points were not mentioned either

in his letter or in any other part of the communications received from

him. But (_to the clerk_) read the jury the actual letter--written by

Aeschines, sent by Philip; and (_to the jury_) do you observe that it

is such as I have described. (_To the clerk._) Read on.

[_The letter is read._]

{39} You hear the letter, men of Athens; you hear how noble and

generous it is. But about the Phocians or the Thebans or the other

subjects of the defendant's report--not a syllable. Indeed, in this

letter there is not an honest word, as you will very shortly see for

yourselves. He says that he retained the ambassadors to help him

reconcile the people of Halus: and such is the reconciliation that they

have obtained, that they are exiles from their country, and their city

is laid waste. And as to the prisoners, though he professed to be

wondering what he could do to gratify you, he says that the idea of

procuring their release had not occurred to any one. {40} But evidence

has, as you know, been laid before you many times in the Assembly, to

the effect that I myself went to ransom them, taking a talent[n] for

the purpose; and it shall now be laid before you once more. It follows,

therefore, that it was to deprive me of my laudable ambition[n] that

Aeschines persuaded Philip to insert this statement. But the strongest

point of all is this. In his former letter--the letter which we brought

back--he wrote, 'I should have mentioned expressly the great benefits

that I propose to confer upon you, if I felt sure that you would grant

me the alliance as well.' And yet when the alliance has been granted,

he says that he does not know what he can do to gratify you. He does

not even know what he had himself promised! Why, he must obviously have

known that, unless he was trying to cheat you! To prove that he did

write thus and in these terms, (_to the clerk_) take his former letter,

and read the very passage, beginning at this point. Read on.

[_An extract from the letter is read._]

{41} Thus, before he obtained the Peace, he undertook to set down in

writing the great benefits he would confer on the city, in the event of

an alliance also being granted him. But as soon as he had obtained both

his wishes, he says that he does not know what he can do to gratify

you, but that if you will inform him, he will do anything that will not

involve any disgrace or stigma upon himself. Such are the excuses in

which he takes refuge, to secure his retreat, in case you should

actually make any suggestion or should be induced to ask any favour.

{42} It would have been possible to expose this whole proceeding at the

time--and a great deal more--without delay; to inform you of the facts,

and to prevent you from sacrificing your cause, had not the thought of

Thespiae and Plataeae, and the idea that the Thebans were on the very

point of paying the penalty, robbed you of the truth. While, however,

there was good reason for mentioning these prospects, if the city was

to hear of them and then be cheated, it would have been better, if

their realization was actually intended, that nothing should have been

said about them. For if matters had already reached a stage at which

the Thebans would be no better off, even if they perceived the design

against them, why was the design not fulfilled? But if its fulfilment

was prevented because they perceived it in time, who was it that

betrayed the secret? {43} Must it not have been Aeschines? Its

fulfilment, however, was not in fact intended, nor did the defendant

either desire or expect it; so that he may be relieved of the charge of

betraying the secret. What was intended was that you should be

hoodwinked by these statements, and should refuse to hear the truth

from me; that you should not stir from home, and that such a decree

should carry the day as would involve the destruction of the Phocians.

Hence this prodigality in promises, and their proclamation in his

speech to the people.

{44} When I heard Aeschines making all these magnificent promises, I

knew perfectly well that he was lying; and I will tell you how I knew.

I knew it first, because when Philip was about to take the oath in

ratification of the Peace, the Phocians were openly excluded from it.

This was a point which it would have been natural to pass over in

silence, if the Phocians were really to be saved. And secondly, I knew

it because the promises were not made by Philip's ambassadors or in

Philip's letter, but by the defendant. {45} Accordingly, drawing my

conclusions from these facts, I rose and came forward and attempted to

contradict him; but as you were not willing to hear me, I held my

peace, with no more than these words of solemn protest, which I entreat

you, in Heaven's name, to remember. 'I have no knowledge of these

promises,' I said, 'and no share in making them; and,' I added, 'I do

not believe they will be fulfilled.' This last expression roused your

temper, and I proceeded, 'Take care, men of Athens, that if any of

these things comes to pass, you thank these gentlemen for it, and give

your honours and crowns to them, and not to me. If, however, anything

of an opposite character occurs, you must equally vent your anger on

them: I decline all responsibility.' {46} 'No, no!' interrupted

Aeschines, 'do not decline responsibility now! Take care rather that

you do not claim credit, when the time comes.' 'Indeed, it would be an

injustice if I did so,' I replied. Then Philocrates arose with a most

insolent air, and said, 'It is no wonder, men of Athens, that I and

Demosthenes should disagree; for he drinks water, I drink wine.' And

you laughed.

{47} Now consider the decree which Philocrates proposed and handed

in.[n] An excellent resolution it sounds, as you hear it now. But when

you take into account the occasion on which it was proposed, and the

promises which Aeschines was then making, you will see that their

action amounts to nothing less than a surrender of the Phocians to

Philip and the Thebans, and that, practically, with their hands tied

behind their backs. (_To the clerk._) Read the decree.

[_The decree is read._]

{48} There, men of Athens, is the decree, overflowing with expressions

of gratitude and auspicious language. 'The Peace,' it says, 'which is

granted to Philip shall be granted on the same terms to his

descendants, and also the alliance.' Again, we are 'to thank Philip for

his promised acts of justice'. Yet Philip made no promises: so far was

he from making promises that he said he did not know what he could do

to gratify you. {49} It was Aeschines who spoke in his name, and made

the promises. Then Philocrates took advantage of the enthusiasm which

Aeschines' words aroused in you, to insert in the decree the clause,

'and unless the Phocians act as they are bound, and surrender the

temple to the Amphictyons, the Athenian people will render their

assistance against those who still stand in the way of such surrender.'

{50} Thus, men of Athens, at a time when you were still at home and had

not taken the field, when the Spartans had foreseen the deception and

retired, and when none of the Amphictyons were on the spot but the

Thessalians and Thebans, he proposes in the most innocent-sounding

language in the world that they shall deliver up the temple to these.

For he proposes that they shall deliver it up to the Amphictyons. But

what Amphictyons? for there were none there but the Thessalians and

Thebans. He does not propose that the Amphictyons should be convoked,

or that they should wait until the Amphictyons met or that Proxenus

should render assistance in Phocis, or that the Athenians should take

the field, or anything of the sort. {51} Philip did indeed actually

send two letters to summon you.[n] But he did not intend you really to

march from Athens. Not a bit of it! For he would not have waited to

summon you until he had seen the time go by in which you could have set

out; nor would he have tried to prevent me, when I wished to set sail

and return hither; nor would he have instructed Aeschines to speak to

you in the terms which would be least likely to cause you to march. No!

he intended that you should fancy that he was about to fulfil your

desires, and in that belief should abstain from any resolution adverse

to him; and that the Phocians should, in consequence, make no defence

or resistance, in reliance upon any hopes inspired by you, but should

put themselves into his hands in utter despair. (_To the clerk._) Read

to the jury the letters of Philip.

[_The letters are read._]

{52} Now these letters summon you, and that, forsooth, instantly; and

it was surely for Aeschines and his party, if the proceeding was in any

way genuine, to support the summons, to urge you to march, and to

propose that Proxenus, whom they knew to be in those parts, should

render assistance at once. Yet it is plain that their action was of

precisely the opposite character; and naturally so. For they did not

attend to the terms of the letter, but to the intention with which

Philip wrote it. {53} With this intention they co-operated, and to this

they strove to give effect. As soon as the Phocians had learned the

news of your proceedings in the Assembly, and had received this decree

of Philocrates, and heard the defendant's announcement and his

promises, everything combined to effect their doom. Consider the

circumstances. There were some of them who had the wisdom to distrust

Philip. These were induced to trust him. And why? Because they believed

that even if Philip were trying to deceive them ten times over, the

ambassadors of Athens, at least, would never dare to deceive their own

countrymen. This report which Aeschines had made to you must therefore

be true: it was the Thebans, and not themselves, whose hour had come.

{54} There were others who advocated resistance at all hazards; but

these too were weakened in their resolution, now that they were

persuaded that they could count upon Philip's favour, and that, unless

they did as they were bidden, you, whose assistance they were hoping

for, would march against them. There was also a third party, who

thought that you repented of having made the Peace with Philip; but to

these they pointed out that you had decreed that the same Peace should

hold good for posterity also; so that on every ground, all assistance

from you was despaired of. That is why they crowded all these points

into one decree. {55} And in this lies, I think, the very greatest of

all their crimes against you. To have made a Peace with a mortal man,

whose power was due to the accidents of the moment--a Peace, whereby

they covenanted that the disgrace brought upon the city should be

everlasting; to have robbed the city, not only of all beside, but even

of the benefits that Fortune might hereafter bestow: to have displayed

such superabundant villany as to have done this wicked wrong not only

to their countrymen now living, but also to all those who should ever

thereafter be born--is it not utterly atrocious? {56} And this last

clause, by which the Peace was extended to your descendants, you would

certainly never have allowed to be added to the conditions of peace had

you not then placed your trust in the promises announced by Aeschines,

as the Phocians placed their trust in them and perished. For, as you

know, they delivered themselves up to Philip; they gave their cities

into his hands; and the consequences which befell them were the exact

opposite of all that Aeschines had predicted to you.

{57} That you may realize plainly that this calamity was brought about

in the manner that I have described, and that they are responsible for

it, I will go through the dates at which each separate event occurred;

and if any one can contradict me on any point, I invite him to rise and

speak in the time allotted to me. The Peace was made on the 19th of

Elaphebolion, and we were away on the mission which was sent to receive

the oaths three whole months. {58} All this time the Phocians remained

unharmed. We returned from that mission on the 13th of Scirophorion.

Philip had already appeared at Thermopylae, and was making promises to

the Phocians, none of which they believed--as is proved, when you

consider that otherwise they would not have appealed to you. Then

followed the Assembly, at which, by their falsehoods and by the

deception which they practised upon you, Aeschines and his party ruined

the whole cause. {59} That was on the 16th of Scirophorion. Now I

calculate that it was on the fifth day that the report of your

proceedings reached the Phocians: for the Phocian envoys were here on

the spot, and were deeply concerned to know what report these men would

make, and what your resolution would be. That gives us the 20th as the

date on which, as we calculate, the Phocians heard of your proceedings;

for, counting from the 16th, the 20th is the fifth day. Then followed

the 21st, the 22nd, and the 23rd. {60} On the latter day the truce was

made, and the ruin of the Phocians was finally sealed. This can be

proved as follows. On the 27th you were holding an Assembly in the

Peiraeus, to discuss the business connected with the dockyards, when

Dercylus arrived from Chalcis with the news that Philip had put

everything into the hands of the Thebans, and that this was the fifth

day since the truce had been made. 23rd, 24th, 25th, 26th, 27th--the

27th is the fifth day precisely. Thus the dates, and their reports and

their proposals--everything, in short, convicts them of having

co-operated with Philip, and of sharing with him the responsibility for

the overthrow of the Phocians. {61} Again, the fact that none of the

towns in Phocis was taken by siege or by an attack in force, and that

the utter ruin of them all was the direct consequence of their truce

with Philip, affords the strongest evidence that it was the belief

inspired in the Phocians by these men, that they would be preserved

from destruction by Philip, which was the cause of their fate. Philip

himself they knew well enough. (_To the clerk._) Bring me our treaty of

alliance with the Phocians, and the decrees under which they demolished

their walls. (_To the jury._) You will then realize what were the

relations between themselves and you, upon which they relied, and what

nevertheless was the fate which befell them through the action of these

accursed men. (_To the clerk._) Read.

[_The Treaty of Alliance between the Athenians and Phocians is read._]

{62} These, then, were the things for which they relied upon

you--friendship, alliance, and assistance. Now listen to what befell

them, because Aeschines prevented your going to their assistance. (_To

the clerk._) Read.

[_The Agreement between Philip and the Phocians is read._]

You hear it, men of Athens. 'An Agreement between Philip and the

Phocians,' it runs--not between the Thebans and the Phocians, nor the

Thessalians and the Phocians, nor the Locrians, nor any one else who

was there. Again, 'the Phocians shall deliver up their cities to

Philip'--not to the Thebans or Thessalians or any one else. {63} And

why? Because the defendant's report to you was that Philip had crossed

the Pass with a view to the preservation of the Phocians. Thus it was

Aeschines in whom all their trust was placed; it was with him in their

minds that they considered the whole situation; it was with him in

their minds that they made the Peace. (_To the clerk._) Now read the

remainder. (_To the jury._) And do you observe for what they trusted

him, and what treatment they received. Does it show any resemblance or

similarity to what Aeschines predicted in his report? (_To the clerk._)

Read on.

[_The decrees of the Amphictyons are read._]

{64} Men of Athens, the horror and the immensity of this calamity have

never been surpassed in our day in the Hellenic world, nor even, I

believe, in the time before us. Yet these great and dreadful events a

single man has been given power to bring about, by the action of these

men, while the city of Athens was still in being--Athens, whose

traditional policy is to stand as the champion of the Hellenic peoples,

and not to suffer anything like this to take place. The nature of the

ruin which the unhappy Phocians have suffered may be seen, not only

from these decrees, but also from the actual results of the action

taken, and an awful and piteous sight it is, men of Athens. {65} For

when recently we were on our way to Delphi[n] we could not help seeing

it all--houses razed to the ground, cities stripped of their walls, the

land destitute of men in their prime--only a few poor women and little

children left, and some old men in misery. Indeed, no words can

describe the distress now prevailing there. Yet this was the people, I

hear you all saying, that once gave its vote against the Thebans,[n]

when the question of your enslavement was laid before them. {66} What

then, men of Athens, do you think would be the vote, what the sentence,

that your forefathers would give, if they could recover consciousness,

upon those who were responsible for the destruction of this people? I

believe that if they stoned them to death with their own hands, they

would hold themselves guiltless of blood. Is it not utterly

shameful--does it not, if possible, go beyond all shame--that those who

saved us then, and gave the saving vote for us, should now have met

with the very opposite fate through these men, suffering as no Hellenic

people has ever suffered before, with none to hinder it? Who then is

responsible for this crime? Who is the author of this deception? Who

but Aeschines?

{67} Of all the many reasons for which Philip might be congratulated

with good cause upon his fortune, the chief ground of congratulation is

a piece of good fortune, to which, by every Heavenly Power, I cannot

find any parallel in our days. To have captured great cities, to have

reduced a vast expanse of territory to subjection, and all similar

actions, are, of course, enviable and brilliant

achievements--undeniably so. But many other persons might be mentioned

who had achieved as much. {68} The good fortune of which I am about to

speak is peculiar to Philip, and has never been given to any other. It

is this--that when he needed scoundrels to do his work for him, he

found even greater scoundrels than he wanted. For as such we have

surely good reason to think of them. For when there were falsehoods

which Philip himself, in spite of the immense interests which he had at

stake, did not dare to utter on his own behalf--which he did not set

down in any of his letters, and which none of his envoys uttered--these

men sold their services for the purpose, and undertook your deception.

{69} Antipater and Parmenio, servants of a master as they were, and

unlikely ever to find themselves in your presence again, none the less

secured for themselves that _they_ should not be the instruments in

your deception, while these men, who were Athenians, citizens of the

most free city, and held an official position as your

ambassadors--though they would have to meet you and look you in the

face, and pass the remainder of their lives among you, and render

before you an account of their actions--they, I say, undertook the task

of deceiving you. How could vileness or desperation go further than

this?

{70} But I would have you understand further that he is under your

curse, and that you cannot, without violation of religion and piety,

acquit him, when he has thus lied to you. (_To the clerk._) Recite the

Curse. Take it from me, and read it out of the law.

[_The Curse is read._]

This imprecation is pronounced in your name, men of Athens, by the

herald, at every meeting of the Assembly, as the law appoints; and when

the Council sits, it is pronounced again there. Nor can Aeschines say

that he did not know it well. He was your under-clerk and servant to

the Council, and used himself to read this law over[n] to the herald.

{71} Surely, then, you will have done a strange and monstrous thing,

men of Athens, if to-day, when you have it in your power, you should

fail to do for yourselves the thing which you enjoin upon the gods, or

rather claim from them as your due; and should acquit a man whom you

pray to the gods to destroy utterly--himself, his race and his house.

You must not do this. You may leave it to the gods to punish one whom

you cannot yourselves detect; but when you have yourselves caught the

criminal, you must no longer lay the task of punishing him upon the

gods.

{72} Now I am told that he intends to carry his shamelessness and

impudence so far, as to avoid all mention of his own proceedings--his

report, his promises, the deception he has practised upon the city--as

though his trial were taking place before strangers, instead of before

you, who know all the facts; and that he intends to accuse first the

Spartans,[n] then the Phocians,[n] and then Hegesippus.[n] {73} That is

mere mockery; or rather, it is atrocious shamelessness. For all that he

will allege to-day against the Phocians or the Spartans or

Hegesippus--their refusal to receive Proxenus, their impiety--let him

allege what he will--all these allegations refer, as you know, to

actions which were already past when these ambassadors returned to

Athens, and which were no obstacle to the preservation of the

Phocians--the admission is made by whom? By the defendant Aeschines

himself. For what was his report on that occasion? {74} Not that if it

had not been for their refusal to receive Proxenus, nor that if it had

not been for Hegesippus, nor that if it had not been for such and such

things, the Phocians would have been saved. No! he discarded all such

qualifications, and stated expressly that before he returned he had

persuaded Philip to save the Phocians, to repeople Boeotia, and to

arrange matters to suit your convenience; that within two or three days

these things would be accomplished facts, and that for this reason the

Thebans had set a price upon his head. {75} Refuse then, to hear or to

tolerate any mention of what had already been done, either by the

Spartans or by the Phocians, before he made his report; and do not let

him denounce the rascality of the Phocians. It was not for their virtue

that you once saved the Spartans, nor the Euboeans, that accursed

people! nor many others; but because the interests of the city demanded

their preservation, as they demanded that of the Phocians just now. And

what wrong was done either by the Phocians or by the Spartans, or by

yourselves, or by any one else in the world after he made those

declarations, to prevent the fulfilment of the promises which he then

made? Ask him that: for that is what he will {76} not be able to show

you. It was within five days--five days and no more--that Aeschines

made his lying report, that you believed him, that the Phocians heard

of it, surrendered themselves and perished. This, I think, makes it as

plain as it can possibly be, that the ruin of the Phocians was the

result of organized deceit and trickery, and of nothing else.[n] For so

long as Philip was unable to proceed to Phocis on account of the

Peace,[n] and was only waiting in readiness to do so, he kept sending

for the Spartans, promising to do all that they wished,[n]in order that

the Phocians might not win {77} them over to their side by your help.

But when he had arrived at Thermopylae, and the Spartans had seen the

trap and retired, he now sent Aeschines in advance to deceive you, in

order that he might not, owing to your perceiving that he was playing

into the hands of the Thebans, find himself once more involved in loss

of time and war and delay, through the Phocians defending themselves

and your going to their assistance, but might get everything into his

power without a struggle; and this is what has in fact happened. Do

not, then, let the fact that Philip deceived the Spartans and Phocians

as well as yourselves enable Aeschines to escape his punishment for

deceiving you. That would not be just.

{78} But if he tells you that, to compensate for the Phocians and

Thermopylae and all your other losses, you have retained possession of

the Chersonese, do not, in Heaven's name, accept the plea! Do not

tolerate the aggravation of all the wrong that you have suffered

through his conduct as ambassador, by the reproach which his defence

would bring upon the city--the reproach of having sacrificed the

existence of your allies, in an underhand attempt to save part of your

own possessions! You did not act thus; for when the Peace had already

been made, and the Chersonese was no longer in danger, there followed

four whole months[n] during which the Phocians remained unharmed; and

it was not until after this that the lying statements of Aeschines

brought about their ruin by deceiving you. {79} And further, you will

find that the Chersonese is in much greater danger now than it was

then. For when do you think that we had the greater facilities for

punishing Philip for any trespass against the Chersonese?--before he

stole any of these advantages from the city, or now? For my part, I

think we had far greater facilities then. What, then, does this

'retention of the Chersonese' amount to, when all the fears and the

risks which attended one who would have liked to attack it have been

removed?

{80} Again, I am told that he will express himself to some such effect

as this--that he cannot think why he is accused by Demosthenes, and not

by any of the Phocians. It is better that you should hear the true

state of the case from me beforehand. Of the exiled Phocians, the best,

I believe, and the most respectable, after being driven into banishment

and suffering as they have suffered, are content to be quiet, and none

of them would consent to incur an enmity which would fall upon himself,

on account of the calamities of his people: while those who would do

anything for money have no one to give it to them. {81} For assuredly

_I_ would never have given any one anything whatever to stand by my

side here and cry aloud how cruelly they have suffered. The truth and

the deeds that have been done cry aloud of themselves. And as for the

Phocian people,[n] they are in so evil and pitiable a plight, that

there is no question for them of appearing as accusers at the

examination of every individual ambassador in Athens. They are in

slavery, in mortal fear of the Thebans and of Philip's mercenaries,

whom they are compelled to support, broken up into villages as they are

and stripped of their arms. {82} Do not, then, suffer him to urge such

a plea. Make him prove to you that the Phocians are not ruined, or that

he did not promise that Philip would save them. For the questions upon

which the examination of an ambassador turns are these: 'What have you

effected? What have you reported? If the report is true, you may be

acquitted; if it is false, you must pay the penalty.' How can you plead

the non-appearance of the Phocians, when it was you yourself, I fancy,

that brought them, so far as it lay in your power, into such a

condition that they could neither help their friends nor repel their

enemies.

{83} And further, apart from all the shame and the dishonour in which

also these proceedings are involved, it is easy to show that in

consequence of them the city has been beset with grave dangers as well.

Every one of you knows that it was the hostilities which the Phocians

were carrying on, and their command of Thermopylae, that rendered us

secure against Thebes, and made it impossible that either Philip or the

Thebans should ever march into the Peloponese or into Euboea or into

Attica. {84} But this guarantee of safety which the city possessed,

arising out of the position of Thermopylae and the actual circumstances

of the time, you were induced to sacrifice by the deceptions and the

lying statements of these ambassadors--a guarantee, I say, fortified by

arms, by a continuous campaign, by great cities of allies, and by a

wide tract of territory; and you have looked on while it was swept

away. Fruitless has your first expedition to Thermopylae become--an

expedition made at a cost of more than two hundred talents, if you

include the private expenditure of the soldiers--and fruitless your

hopes of triumph over Thebes! {85} But of all the wicked services which

he has done for Philip, let me tell you of that which is in reality the

greatest outrage of all upon Athens and upon you all. It is this--that

when Philip had determined from the very first to do for the Thebans

all that he has done, Aeschines, by reporting the exact opposite to

you, and so displaying to the world your antagonism to Philip's

designs, has brought about for you an increase in the enmity between

yourselves and the Thebans, and for Philip an increase in their

gratitude. How could a man have treated you more outrageously than this?

(_To the clerk._) {86} Now take and read the decrees of Diophantus[n]

and Callisthenes[n]; (_to the jury_) for I would have you realize that

when you acted as you ought, you were thought worthy to be honoured

with public thanksgivings and praises, both at home and abroad; but

when once you had been driven astray by these men, you had to bring

your children and wives in from the country, and to decree that the

sacrifice to Heracles[n] should take place within the walls, though it

was a time of peace. And in view of this it is an amazing idea, that

you should dismiss unpunished a man who even prevented the gods from

receiving their worship from you after the manner of your fathers. (_To

the clerk._) Read the decree.

[_The decree of Diophantus is read._]

This decree, men of Athens, was one which your conduct nobly deserved.

(_To the clerk._) Now read the next decree.

[_The decree of Callisthenes is read._]

{87} This decree you passed in consequence of the action of these men.

It was not with such a prospect in view that you made the Peace and the

alliance at the outset, or that you were subsequently induced to insert

the words which extended them to your posterity. You expected their

action to bring you benefits of incredible value. Aye, and besides

this, you know how often, after this, you were bewildered by the report

that Philip's forces and mercenaries were threatening Porthmus or

Megara. You have not then to reflect contentedly that Philip has not

yet set foot in Attica. You have rather to consider whether their

action has not given him power to do so when he chooses. It is that

danger that you must keep before your eyes, and you must execrate and

punish the man who is guilty of putting such power into Philip's hands.

{88} Now I am aware that Aeschines will eschew all defence of the

actions with which he is charged, and that, in his desire to lead you

as far away as possible from the facts, he will enumerate the great

blessings which Peace brings to all mankind, and will set against them

the evils that follow in the train of war. His whole speech will be a

eulogy of peace, and in that will consist his defence. But such an

argument actually incriminates the defendant further. If peace, which

brings such blessings to all other men, has been the source of such

trouble and confusion to us, what explanation can be found, except that

they have taken bribes and have cruelly marred a thing by nature so

fair? {89} 'What?' he may say, 'have you not to thank the Peace for

three hundred ships, with their fittings, and for funds which remain

and will remain yours?' In answer to this, you are bound to suppose

that, thanks to the Peace, Philip's resources too have become far more

ample--aye, and his command of arms, and of territory, and of revenues,

which have accrued to him to such large amounts. {90} We, too, have had

some increase of revenue. But as for power and alliances, by the

establishment of which all men retain their advantages, either for

themselves or their masters, ours have been sold by these men--ruined

and enfeebled; while Philip's have become more formidable and extensive

by far. Thus it is not fair that while Philip has been enabled by their

action to extend both his alliances and his revenue, all that would in

any case have been ours, as the result of the Peace, should be set off

against what they themselves sold to Philip. The former did not come to

us in exchange for the latter. Far from it! For had it not been for

them, not only should we have had the former, as we have now, but we

should have had the latter as well.

{91} You would doubtless admit, men of Athens, in general terms, that,

on the one hand, however many and terrible the disasters that have

befallen the city, your anger cannot justly be visited upon Aeschines,

if none of them has been caused by him; and that, on the other hand,

Aeschines is not entitled to be acquitted on account of any

satisfactory results that may have been accomplished through the action

of others. You must examine the acts of Aeschines himself, and then

show him your favour if he is worthy of it, or your resentment, on the

other hand, if his acts prove to be deserving ing of that. {92} How,

then, can you solve this problem fairly? You will do so if, instead of

allowing him to confound all questions with one another--the criminal

conduct of the generals, the war with Philip, the blessings that flow

from peace--you consider each point by itself. For instance, were we at

war with Philip? We were. Does any one accuse Aeschines on that ground?

Does any one wish to bring any charge against him in regard to things

that were done in the course of the war? No one whatever. He is

therefore acquitted in regard to such matters, and must not say

anything about them; for the witnesses and the proofs which a defendant

produces must bear upon the matters which are in dispute; he must not

deceive you by offering a defence upon points which are not disputed.

Take care, then, that you say nothing about the war; for no one charges

you with any responsibility for that. {93} Later on we were urged by

certain persons to make peace. We consented; we sent ambassadors; and

the ambassadors brought commissioners to Athens who were to conclude

the Peace. Once more, does any one blame Aeschines for this? Does any

one allege that Aeschines introduced the proposal of peace, or that he

committed any crime in bringing commissioners here to make it? No one

whatever. He must therefore say nothing in regard to the fact that the

city made peace; for he is not responsible for that. {94} 'Then what

_is_ your assertion, sir?' I may be asked. 'At what point _do_ your

charges begin?' They begin, men of Athens, from the time when the

question before you was not whether you should make peace or not (for

that had already been settled), but what sort of peace you should

make--when Aeschines opposed those who took the side of justice,

supported for a bribe the hireling mover of the decree, and afterwards,

when he had been chosen to receive the oaths, failed to carry out every

one of your instructions, destroyed those of your allies who had passed

unscathed through the war, and told you falsehoods whose enormity and

grossness has never been surpassed, either before or since. At the

outset, before Philip was given a hearing in regard to the Peace,

Ctesiphon and Aristodemus took the leading part in the work of

deception; but when the time had come for action, they surrendered

their rôle to Philocrates and Aeschines, who took it up and ruined

everything. {95} And then, when he is bound to answer for his actions

and to give satisfaction for them--like the unscrupulous God-forsaken

clerk that he is--he will defend himself as though it were the Peace

for which he was being tried. Not that he wishes to account for more

than is charged against him--that would be lunacy. No! He sees rather

that in all his own proceedings no good can be found--that his crimes

are his whole history; while a defence of the Peace, if it has no other

merits, has at least the kindly sound of the name to recommend it. {96}

I fear, indeed, men of Athens, I fear that, unconsciously, we are

enjoying this Peace like men who borrow at heavy interest. The

guarantees of its security--the Phocians and Thermopylae--they have

betrayed. But, be that as it may, it was not through _Aeschines_ that

we originally made it; for, paradoxical as it may seem, what I am about

to say is absolutely true--that if any one is honestly pleased at the

Peace, it is the generals, who are universally denounced, that he must

thank for it: for had they been conducting the war as you desired them

to do, {97}you would not have tolerated even the name of peace. For

peace, then, we must thank the generals; but the perilous, the

precarious, the untrustworthy nature of the Peace is due to the

corruption of these men. Cut him off, then, cut him off, I say, from

all arguments in defence of the Peace! Set him to defend his own

actions! Aeschines is not being tried on account of the Peace. On the

contrary, the Peace stands discredited owing to Aeschines. And here is

evidence of the fact:--if the Peace had been made, and if no subsequent

deception had been practised upon you, and none of your allies had been

ruined, who on earth would have been hurt by the Peace, except in so

far as it was inglorious? And for its inglorious character the

defendant in fact shares the responsibility, for he spoke in support of

Philocrates. At least no irreparable harm would have been done; whereas

now, I believe, much has been done, and the guilt rests with the

defendant. {98} That these men have been the agents in this shameful

and wicked work of ruin and destruction, I think you all know. Yet so

far am I, gentlemen of the jury, from putting any unfair construction

upon these facts or asking you to do so, that if it has been through

stupidity or simplicity, or ignorance in any form whatever, that such

results have been so brought about, I acquit Aeschines myself, and I

{99} recommend you also to acquit him. At the same time none of these

excuses is either constitutional[n] or justifiable. For you neither

command nor compel any one to undertake public business; but when any

one has satisfied himself of his own capacity and has entered political

life, then, like good-hearted, kindly men, you welcome him in a

friendly and ungrudging manner, and even elect him to office and place

your own interests in his hands. {100} Then, if a man succeeds, he will

receive honour and will so far have an advantage over the crowd. But if

he fails, is he to plead palliations and excuses? That is not fair. It

would not satisfy our ruined allies, or their children, or their wives,

or the rest of the victims, to know that it was through my

stupidity--not to speak of the stupidity of the defendant--that they

had suffered such a fate. Far from it! {101} Nevertheless, I bid you

forgive Aeschines for these atrocious and unparalleled crimes if he can

prove that it was simplicity of mind, or any form of ignorance

whatever, which led him to work such ruin. But if it was the rascality

of a man who had taken money and bribes--if he is plainly convicted of

this by the very facts themselves--then, if it be possible, put him to

death; or if not, make him, while he lives, an example to others.

And now give your thoughts to the proof by which he is convicted on

these points, and observe how straightforward it will be.

{102} If the defendant Aeschines was not deliberately deceiving you for

a price, he must necessarily, I presume, have had one of two reasons

for making the statements in question to you, in regard to the Phocians

and Thespiae and Euboea. Either he must have heard Philip promise in

express terms that such would be his policy and the steps he would

take; or else he must have been so far bewitched and deluded by

Philip's generosity in all other matters as to conceive these further

hopes of him. There is no possible alternative besides these two. {103}

Now in both these cases he, more than any living man, ought to detest

Philip. And why? Because, so far as Philip could bring it about, all

that is most dreadful and most shameful has fallen upon him. He has

deceived you; his reputation is gone [he is rightly ruined]; he is on

his trial; aye, and were the course of the proceedings in any way that

which his conduct called for, he would long ago have been impeached;[n]

{104-109} whereas now, thanks to your innocence and meekness, he

presents his report, and that at the time which suits his own wishes. I

ask, then, if there is one among you who has ever heard Aeschines raise

his voice in denunciation of Philip--one, I say, who has seen Aeschines

exposing him or saying a word against him? Not one! All Athens

denounces Philip before Aeschines does so. Every one whom you meet does

so, though not one of them has been injured by him--I mean, of course,

personally. On the assumption that Aeschines had not sold himself, I

should have expected to hear him use some such expressions as

these--'Men of Athens, deal with _me_ as you will. I trusted Philip; I

was deceived; I was wrong; I confess my error. But beware of _him_, men

of Athens. He is faithless--a cheat, a knave. Do you not see how he has

treated me? how he has deceived me?' {110} But I hear no such

expressions fall from him, nor do you. And why? Because he was _not_

misled; he was _not_ deceived; he made these statements, he betrayed

all to Philip, because he had sold his services and received the money

for them; and gallantly and loyally has he behaved--as Philip's

hireling. But as your ambassador, as your fellow citizen, he is a

traitor who deserves to die, not once, but thrice.

{111} This is not the only evidence which proves that all those

statements of his were made for money. For, recently, the Thessalians

came to you, and with them envoys from Philip, demanding that you

should decree the recognition of Philip as one of the Amphictyons. Who

then, of all men, should naturally have opposed the demand? The

defendant Aeschines. And why? Because Philip had acted in a manner

precisely contrary to the announcement which Aeschines had made to you.

{112} Aeschines declared that Philip would fortify Thespiae and

Plataeae; that he intended, not to destroy the Phocians, but to put

down the insolence of Thebes. But in fact Philip has raised the Thebans

to an undue height of power, while he has utterly destroyed the

Phocians; and instead of fortifying Thespiae and Plataeae, he has

brought Orchomenus and Coroneia into the same bondage with them. How

could any contradiction be greater than this? Aeschines did not oppose

the demand. He neither opened his lips nor uttered a sound in

opposition to it. {113} But even this, monstrous as it is, is not yet

the worst. For he, and he alone, in all Athens, actually supported the

demand. This not even Philocrates dared to do, abominable as he was; it

was left for the defendant Aeschines. And when you raised a clamour and

would not listen to him, he stepped down from the platform, and,

showing off before the envoys who had come from Philip, told them that

there were plenty of men who made a clamour, but few who took the field

when it was required of them--you remember the incident, no

doubt--being himself, of course, a marvellous soldier, God knows!

{114} Again, if we had been unable to prove that any of the ambassadors

had received anything--if the fact were not patent to all--we might

then have resorted to examination by torture,[n] and other such

methods. But if Philocrates not only admitted the fact frequently in

your presence at the Assembly, but used actually to make a parade of

his guilt--selling wheat, building houses, saying that he was going[n]

whether you elected him or not, importing timber, changing Macedonian

gold openly at the bank--it is surely impossible for _him_ to deny that

he received money, when he himself confesses and displays his guilt.

{115} Now, is any human being so senseless or so ill-starred that, in

order that Philocrates might receive money, while he himself incurred

infamy and disgrace, he would want to fight against those upright

citizens in whose ranks he might have stood, and to take the side of

Philocrates and face a trial? I am sure that there is no such man; but

in all these considerations, if you examine them aright, you will find

strong and evident signs of the corruption of the defendant.

{116} Consider next an incident which occurred last in order of time,

but which is second to none as an indication that Aeschines had sold

himself to Philip. You doubtless know that in the course of the recent

impeachment of Philocrates by Hypereides, I came forward and expressed

my dissatisfaction with one feature of the impeachment--namely, the

idea that Philocrates alone had been responsible for all these

monstrous crimes, and that the other nine ambassadors had no share in

them. I said that it was not so, for Philocrates by himself would have

been nowhere, had he not had some of them to co-operate with him. {117}

'And therefore,' I said, 'in order that I may not personally acquit or

accuse any one, and that the guilty may be detected, and those who have

had no share in the crime acquitted by the evidence of their own

conduct, let any one who wishes to do so rise and come forward into

your midst, and let him declare that he has no share in it, and that

the actions of Philocrates are displeasing to him. Any one who does

this,' I said, 'I acquit.' You remember the incident, I am sure. {118}

Well, no one came forward or showed himself. Each of the others has

some excuse. One was not liable to examination; another, perhaps, was

not present; a third is related to Philocrates. But Aeschines has no

such excuse. No! So completely has he sold himself, once for all--so

plain is it that his wages are not for past services only, but that, if

he escapes now, Philip can equally count upon his help against you in

the future--that to avoid letting fall even a word that would be

unfavourable to Philip, he does not accept his discharge[n] even when

you offer to discharge him, but chooses to suffer infamy, to stand his

trial and to endure any treatment in this court, rather than to take a

step that would not please Philip. {119} But what is the meaning of

this partnership, this careful forethought for Philocrates? For if

Philocrates had by his diplomacy accomplished the most honourable

results and achieved all that your interest required, and yet admitted

(as he did admit) that he had made money by his mission, this very fact

was one by which an uncorrupted colleague should have been repelled and

set him on his guard, and led to protest to the best of his power.

Aeschines has not acted in this way. Is it not all clear, men of

Athens? Do not the facts cry aloud and tell you that Aeschines has

taken money, that he is a rascal for a price, and that

consistently--not through stupidity, or ignorance, or bad luck? {120}

'But where is the witness who testifies to my corruption?' he asks.

Why, this is the finest thing of all![n] The witnesses, Aeschines, are

facts; and they are the surest of all witnesses: none can assert or

allege against them, that they are influenced by persuasion or by

favour to any one: what your treachery and mischief have made them,

such, when examined, they must appear. But, besides the facts, you

shall at once bear witness against yourself. Come, stand up[n] and

answer me! Surely you will not plead that you are so inexperienced as

not to know what to say. For when, under the ordinary limitations of

time, you prosecute and win cases that have all the novelty of a

play[n]--cases, too, that have no witness to support them--you must

plainly be a speaker of tremendous genius.

{121} Many and atrocious as are the crimes of the defendant Aeschines,

and great as is the wickedness which is implied by them (as I am sure

you also feel) there is none which is more atrocious than that of which

I am about to speak to you, and none which will afford more palpable

proof that he has taken bribes and sold everything. For when once more,

for the third time, you sent the ambassadors to Philip on the strength

of those high and noble expectations which the defendant's promises had

roused, you elected both Aeschines and myself, and most of those whom

you had previously sent. {122} For my part I came forward and declined

upon oath to serve;[n] and though some raised a clamour and bade me go,

I declared that I would not; but the defendant had already been

elected. Afterwards, when the Assembly had risen, he and his party met

and discussed whom they should leave behind in Athens. For while

everything was still in suspense, and the future doubtful, there were

all kinds of gatherings and discussions in the market-place. {123} They

were afraid, no doubt, that a special meeting of the Assembly might

suddenly be called, and that you might then hear the truth from me, and

pass some of the resolutions which it was your duty to pass in the

interest of the Phocians, and that so Philip's object might slip from

his grasp. For had you merely passed a resolution and shown them the

faintest ray of hope of any kind, the Phocians would have been saved.

It was absolutely impossible for Philip to stay where he was, unless

you were misled. There was no corn in the country, for, owing to the

war, the land had not been sown; and to import corn was impossible so

long as your ships were there and in command of the sea; while the

Phocian towns were many in number, and difficult to take except by a

prolonged siege. Even assuming that he were taking a town a day, there

are two and twenty of them. {124} For all these reasons they left

Aeschines in Athens, to guard against any alteration of the course

which you had been deluded into taking. Now to decline upon oath to

serve, without any cause, was a dangerous and highly suspicious

proceeding. 'What?' he would have been asked, 'are you not going on the

mission which is to secure all those wonderful good things which you

have foretold?' Yet he was bound to remain. How could it be done? He

pleads illness. His brother took with him Execestus the physician, came

before the Council, swore that Aeschines was too ill to serve, and was

himself elected in his place. {125} Five or six days later the ruin of

the Phocians had been accomplished, and Aeschines' contract--a mere

matter of business--had been fulfilled. Dercylus turned back, and on

his arrival here from Chalcis announced to you the destruction of the

Phocians, while you were holding an Assembly in the Peiraeus. On

hearing the news you were naturally struck with sympathy for them, and

with terror for yourselves. You passed resolutions to bring in your

children and wives from the country, to repair the garrison-forts, to

fortify the Peiraeus, and to celebrate the sacrifice to Heracles within

the city walls: {126} and in the midst of all this, in the midst of the

confusion and the tumult which had fallen upon the city, this learned

and able speaker, so loud of voice, though not elected[n] either by the

Council or by the people, set off as ambassador to the man who had

wrought the destruction, taking no account of the illness which he had

previously made his excuse, upon oath, for not serving, nor of the

election of another ambassador in his place, nor of the law which

imposes the penalty of death for such offences; {127} nor yet

reflecting how utterly atrocious it was, that after announcing that the

Thebans had placed a price on his head, he should choose the moment

when the Thebans had (in addition to all Boeotia, which they already

possessed) become masters of the territory of the Phocians as well, to

go into the very midst of Thebes, and into the very camp of the

Thebans. But so beside himself was he, so utterly bent upon his profits

and his bribe, that he ruled out and overlooked all such

considerations, and took his departure.

{128} Such was the nature of this transaction; and yet his proceedings

when he arrived at his destination are far worse. All of you who are

present, and all other Athenians as well, thought the treatment of the

unhappy Phocians so atrocious and so cruel that you sent to the Pythian

games neither the official deputation from the Council, nor the

Thesmothetae,[n] but abandoned that ancient representation of

yourselves at the festival. But Aeschines went to the triumphal

feast[n] with which the Thebans and Philip were celebrating the victory

of their cause and their arms. He joined in the festival: he shared in

the libations and the prayers which Philip offered over the ruined

walls and country and arms of your allies: with Philip he set garlands

on his head, and raised the paean, and drank the loving-cup. {129} Nor

is it possible for the defendant to give a different version of the

facts from that which I have given. As regards his sworn refusal to

serve, the facts are in your public records in the Metroon,[n] guarded

by your officer; and a decree stands recorded with express reference to

the name of Aeschines.[n] And as for his conduct there, his fellow

ambassadors, who were present, will bear witness against him. They told

me the story; for I was not with them on this Embassy, having entered a

sworn refusal to serve.

(_To the clerk._) {130} Now read me the resolution [and the record],

and call the witnesses.

[_The decree is read, and the witnesses called._]

What prayers, then, do you imagine Philip offered to the gods, when he

poured his libation, or the Thebans? Did they not ask them to give

success in war, and victory, to themselves and their allies, and the

contrary to the allies of the Phocians? In these prayers, therefore--in

these imprecations upon his own country--Aeschines joined. It is for

you to return them upon his own head to-day.

{131} His departure, then, was a contravention of the law which imposes

the penalty of death for the offence, and it has been shown that on his

arrival he acted in a manner for which he deserves to die again and

again, while his former proceedings and the work which he did as

ambassador, in their interest,[n] would justly slay him. Ask yourselves

what penalty can be found, which will adequately atone for all these

crimes? {132} It would surely be shameful, men of Athens, that while

all of you, and the whole people, denounce publicly all the

consequences of the Peace; while you decline to take part in the

business of the Amphictyons; while your attitude towards Philip is one

of vexation and mistrust, because the deeds that have been done are

impious and atrocious, instead of righteous and advantageous to you;

that nevertheless, when you have come into court as the sworn

representatives of the State, to sit in judgement upon the report of

these proceedings, you should acquit the author of all the evil, when

you have taken him red-handed in actions like these. {133} Who is there

of all your fellow citizens--nay, who of all the Hellenes--that would

not have good cause for complaint against you, when he saw that though

you were enraged against Philip, who in making peace after war was

merely purchasing the means to his end from those who offered them for

sale--a very pardonable transaction--you were yet acquitting Aeschines,

who sold your interests in this shameful manner, notwithstanding the

extreme penalties which the laws appoint for such conduct?

{134} Now it is possible that an argument may also be used by the other

side to some such effect as this--that the condemnation of those whose

diplomacy brought about the Peace will mean the beginning of enmity

with Philip. If this is true, then, I can imagine, upon consideration,

no more serious charge that I could bring against the defendant, than

this. If Philip, who spent his money on the Peace which he wished to

obtain, has become so formidable, so powerful, that you have already

ceased to regard your oaths and the justice of the case, and are

seeking how you can gratify Philip, what penalty, that those who are

responsible for this could suffer, would be adequate to the offence?

{135} I believe, however, that I shall actually show you that it would

more probably mean the beginning of a friendship, advantageous to you.

For you must be well assured, men of Athens, that Philip does not

despise your city; nor was it because he regarded you as less

serviceable than the Thebans, that he preferred them to you. No! {136}

He had been instructed by these men and had heard from them, what I

once told you in the Assembly, without contradiction from any of them,

that the People is the most unstable thing in the world, and the most

incalculable, inconstant as a wave of the sea, stirred by any chance

wind. One comes, another goes; but no one cares for the public

interest, or remembers it. Philip needs (he is told) friends upon whom

he can rely to execute and manage his business with you--such friends,

for instance, as his informant.[n] If this were secured for him, he

would easily effect all that he desired in Athens. {137} Now if he

heard that those who had used such language to him had immediately upon

their return been beaten to death, he would doubtless have behaved as

the Persian king did. And how was this? He had been deceived by

Timagoras,[n] and had given him, it is said, forty talents; but when he

heard that Timagoras had been put to death here, and had not even power

to secure his own life, much less to carry out the promises he had made

to him, he recognized that he had not paid the price to the man who had

the power to effect his object. For first, as you know, he sent a

dispatch, acknowledging once more your title to Amphipolis, which he

had previously described as in alliance and friendship with himself;

and secondly, he thenceforward wholly abstained from giving money to

any one. {138} This is exactly what Philip would have done, if he had

seen that any of these men had paid the penalty, and what, if he sees

it, he will still do. But when he hears that they address you, and

enjoy a high reputation with you, and prosecute others, what is he to

do? Is he to seek to spend much, when he can spend less? or to desire

to court the favour of all, when he need but court two or three? That

would be madness. For even those public benefits which Philip conferred

upon the Thebans he conferred not from choice-- far from it--but

because he was induced to do so by their ambassadors; and I will tell

you how. {139} Ambassadors came to him from Thebes just at the time

when we were there upon our mission from you. Philip wished to give

them money, and that (so they said) in very large amounts. The Theban

ambassadors would not accept or receive it. After that, while drinking

at a sacrificial banquet and displaying his generosity towards them,

Philip offered, as he drank to them, presents of many kinds--captives

and the like--and finally he offered them goblets of gold and silver.

All these they steadily refused, declining to put themselves in his

power in any way. {140} At last Philo, one of the ambassadors, made a

speech, men of Athens, which was worthy to be made in the name, not of

Thebes, but of yourselves. For he said that it gave them pleasure and

delight to see the magnanimous and generous attitude of Philip towards

them; but for their own personal part, they were already his good

friends even without these presents; and they begged him to apply his

generosity to the existing political situation of their country, and to

do something worthy of himself and Thebes, promising that, if he did

so, their whole city, as well as themselves, would become attached to

him. {141} And now observe what the Thebans have gained by this, and

what consequences have followed; and contemplate in a real instance the

advantages of refusing to sell your country's interests. First of all,

they obtained peace when they were already distressed and suffering

from the war, in which they were the losing side. Next, they secured

the utter ruin of their enemies, the Phocians, and the complete

destruction of their walls and towns. And was this all? No, indeed! For

besides all this they obtained Orchomenus, Coroneia, Corsia, the

Tilphossaeum, and as much of the territory of the Phocians as they

desired. {142} This then was what the Thebans gained by the Peace; and

surely no more could they have asked even in their prayers. And the

ambassadors of Thebes gained--what? Nothing but the credit of having

brought this good fortune to their country; and a noble reward it was,

men of Athens, a proud record on the score of merit and honour--that

honour which Aeschines and his party sold for money. Let us now set

against one another the consequences of the Peace to the city of Athens

and to the Athenian ambassadors respectively; and then observe whether

its effects have been similar in the case of the city and of these men

personally. {143} The city has surrendered all her possessions and all

her allies; she has sworn to Philip that even if another approaches

them to preserve them for her, you will prevent him; that you will

consider any one who wishes to give them up to you as your enemy and

foe, and the man who has robbed you of them as your ally and friend.

{144} That is the resolution which Aeschines supported, and which was

moved by his accomplice Philocrates; and although on the first day I

was successful, and had persuaded you to ratify the decree of the

allies and to summon Philip's envoys,[n] the defendant forced an

adjournment of the question till the next day, and persuaded you to

adopt the resolution of Philocrates, in which these proposals, and many

others even more atrocious, are made. {145} These were the consequences

of the Peace to Athens. It would not be easy to devise anything more

shameful. What were the consequences to the ambassadors who brought

these things about? I say nothing of all that you have seen for

yourselves--the houses, the timber, the wheat. But they also possess

properties and extensive estates in the country of your ruined allies,

bringing in incomes of a talent to Philocrates and thirty minae to the

defendant. {146} Yet surely, men of Athens, it is an atrocious and a

monstrous thing, that the calamities of your allies should have become

sources of revenue to your ambassadors, and that the same Peace which

to the city that sent them meant the ruin of her allies, the surrender

of her possessions, and shame in the place of honour, should have

created for the ambassadors who brought these things to pass against

their country, revenue, affluence, property, and wealth, in the place

of abject poverty. To prove, however, that what I am telling you is

true (_to the clerk_) call me the witnesses from Olynthus.

[_The witnesses are called._]

{147} Now I should not wonder if he even dared to make some such

statement as this--that the Peace which we were making could not have

been made an honourable one, or such as I demanded, because our

generals had mismanaged the war. If he argues thus, then remember, in

Heaven's name, to ask him whether[n] it was from some other city that

he went as ambassador, or from this city itself? If it was from some

other, to whose success in war and to whose excellent generals he can

point, then it was natural for him to take Philip's money: but if it

was from Athens itself, why do we find him taking presents as part of a

transaction which involved the surrender of her possessions by the city

which sent him? For in any honest transaction the city that sent the

ambassadors ought to have shared the same fortune as the ambassadors

whom she sent. {148} Consider also this further point, men of Athens.

Do you think that the successes of the Phocians against the Thebans in

the war, or the successes of Philip against you, were the more

considerable? Those of the Phocians against the Thebans, I am quite

certain. At least, they held Orchomenus and Coroneia and the

Tilphossaeum;[n] they had intercepted the Theban garrison at Neones;[n]

they had slain two hundred of them on Hedyleum;[n] a trophy had been

raised, their cavalry were victorious, and a whole Iliad of misfortunes

had beset the Thebans. You were in no such position as this, and may

you never be so in the future! Your most serious disadvantage in your

hostilities with Philip was your inability to inflict upon him all the

damage that you desired; you were completely secure against suffering

any harm yourselves. How is it then that, as the result of one and the

same Peace, the Thebans, who were being so badly worsted in the war,

have recovered their own possessions and, in addition, have gained

those of their enemies; while you, the Athenians, have lost under the

Peace even what you retained safely through the war? It is because

their ambassadors did not sell their interests, while these men have

sold yours. [Ah! he will say,[n] but the allies were exhausted by the

war....]. That this is how these things were accomplished, you will

realize still more clearly from what I have yet to say.

{150}For when this Peace was concluded--the Peace of Philocrates, which

Aeschines supported--and when Philip's envoys had set sail, after

receiving the oaths from us--and up to this time nothing that had been

done was irreparable, for though the Peace was disgraceful and unworthy

of Athens, still we were to get those marvellous good things in

return--then I say, I asked and told the ambassadors to sail as quickly

as possible to the Hellespont, and not to sacrifice any of our

positions there, nor allow Philip to occupy them in the interval. {151}

For I knew very well that everything that is sacrificed when peace is

in process of being concluded after war, is lost to those who are so

neglectful; since no one who had been induced to make peace with regard

to the situation as a whole ever yet made up his mind to fight afresh

for the sake of possessions which had been left unsecured; such

possessions those who first take them keep. And, apart from this, I

thought that, if we sailed, the city could not fail to secure one of

two useful results. Either, when we were there and had received

Philip's oath according to the decree, he would restore the possessions

of Athens which he had taken, and keep his hands off the rest; {152}

or, if he did not do so, we should immediately report the fact to you

here, and so, when you saw his grasping and perfidious disposition in

regard to those your remoter and less important interests, you would

not in dealing with greater matters close at hand--in other words, with

the Phocians and Thermopylae--let anything be lost. If he failed to

forestall you in regard to these, and you were not deceived, your

interests would be completely secured, and he would give you your

rights without hesitation. {153} And I had good reason for such

expectations. For if the Phocians were still safe and sound, as they

then were, and were in occupation of Thermopylae, Philip would have had

no terror to brandish before you, which could make you overlook any of

your rights. For he was not likely either to make his way through by

land, or to win a victory by sea, and so reach Attica; while if he

refused to act as was right, you would instantly close his ports,

reduce him to straits for money and other supplies, and place him in a

state of siege; and in that case it would be he, and not you, to whom

the advantages of peace would be the overmastering consideration. {154}

And that I am not inventing this or claiming wisdom after the

event--that I knew it at once, and, with your interest in view, foresaw

what must happen and told my colleagues--you will realize from the

following facts. When there was no longer any meeting of the Assembly

available (since you had used up all the appointed days) and still the

ambassadors did not depart, but wasted time here, I proposed a decree

as a member of the Council, to which the people had given full powers,

that the ambassadors should depart directly, and that the admiral

Proxenus should convey them to any district in which he should

ascertain Philip to be. My proposal was just what I now tell you,

couched expressly in those terms. (_To the clerk_.) Take this decree

and read it.

[_The decree is read_.]

{155} I brought them away, then, from Athens, sorely against their

will, as you will clearly understand from their subsequent conduct.

When we reached Oreus and joined Proxenus, instead of sailing and

following their instructions, they made a circuitous journey by land,

and before we reached Macedonia we had spent three and twenty days. All

the rest of the time, until Philip's arrival, we were sitting idle at

Pella; and this, with the journey, brought the time up to fifty days in

all. {156} During this interval, in a time of peace and truce, Philip

was taking Doriscus,[n] Thrace, the district towards the Walls, the

Sacred Mountain--everything, in fact, and making his own arrangements

there; while I spoke out repeatedly and insistently, first in the tone

of a man giving his opinion to his colleagues, then as though I were

informing the ignorant, till at last I addressed them without any

concealment as men who had sold themselves and were the most impious of

mankind. {157} And the man who contradicted me openly and opposed

everything which I urged and which your decree enjoined, was Aeschines.

Whether his conduct pleased all the other ambassadors as well, you will

know presently; for as yet I allege nothing about any of them, and make

no accusation: no one of them need appear an honest man to-day because

I oblige him to do so, but only of his own free will, and because he

was no partner in Aeschines' crimes. That the conduct in question was

disgraceful, atrocious, venal, you have all seen. Who were the partners

in it, the facts will show.

{158} 'But of course, during this interval they received the oaths from

Philip's allies, or carried out their other duties.' Far from it! For

though they had been absent from home three whole months, and received

1,000 drachmae from you for their expenses, they did not receive the

oaths from a single city, either on their journey to Macedonia, or on

the way back. It was in the inn before the temple of the Dioscuri--any

one who has been to Pherae will understand me--when Philip was already

on the march towards Athens at the head of an army, that the oaths were

taken, in a fashion which was disgraceful, men of Athens, and insulting

to you. {159} To Philip, however, it was worth anything that the

transaction should have been carried out in this form. These men had

failed in their attempt to insert among the terms of the Peace the

clause which excluded the people of Halus and Pharsalus; Philocrates

had been forced by you to expunge the words, and to write down

expressly 'the Athenians and the allies of the Athenians'; and Philip

did not wish any of his own allies to have taken such an oath; for then

they would not join him in his campaign against those possessions of

yours which he now holds, but would plead their oaths in excuse; {160}

nor did he wish them to be witnesses of the promises on the strength of

which he was obtaining the Peace. He did not wish it to be revealed to

the world that the city of Athens had not, after all, been defeated in

the war, and that it was Philip who was eager for peace, and was

promising to do great things for Athens if he obtained it. It was just

to prevent the revelation of these facts that he thought it inadvisable

that the ambassadors should go to any of the cities; while for their

part, they sought to gratify him in everything, with ostentatious and

extravagant obsequiousness. {161} But when all this is proved against

them--their waste of time, their sacrifice of your position in Thrace,

their complete failure to act in accordance either with your decree or

your interests, their lying report to you--how is it possible that

before a jury of sane men, anxious to be true to their oath, Aeschines

can be acquitted? To prove, however, that what I say is true (_to the

clerk_), first read the decree, under which it was our duty to exact

the oaths, then Philip's letter, and then the decree of Philocrates and

that of the people.

[_The decrees and letter are read._]

{162} And now, to prove that we should have caught Philip in the

Hellespont, had any one listened to me, and carried out your

instructions as contained in the decrees, (_to the clerk_) call the

witnesses who were there on the spot.

[_The witnesses are called._]

(_To the clerk._) Next read also the other deposition--Philip's answer

to Eucleides,[n] who is present here, when he went to Philip afterwards.

[_The deposition is read._]

{163} Now listen to me, while I show that they cannot even deny that it

was to serve Philip's interest that they acted as they did. For when we

set out on the First Embassy--that which was to discuss the Peace--you

dispatched a herald in advance to procure us a safe conduct. Well, on

that occasion, as soon as ever they had reached Oreus, they did not

wait for the herald, or allow any time to be lost; but though Halus was

being besieged, they sailed there direct, and then, leaving the town

again, came to Parmenio, who was besieging it, set out through the

enemy's camp to Pagasae, and, continuing their journey, only met the

herald at Larissa: with such eager haste did they proceed. {164} But at

a time when there was peace and they had complete security for their

journey and you had instructed them to make haste, it never occurred to

them either to quicken their pace or to go by sea. And why? Because on

the former occasion Philip's interest demanded that the Peace should be

made as soon as possible; whereas now it required that as long an

interval as possible should be wasted before the oaths were taken.

{165} To prove that this is so, (_to the clerk_) take and read this

further deposition.

[_The deposition is read._]

How could men be more clearly convicted of acting to serve Philip's

interest throughout, than by the fact that they sat idle, when in your

interest they ought to have hurried, on the very same journey over

which they hastened onward, without even waiting for the herald, when

they ought not to have moved at all?

{166} Now observe how each of us chose to conduct himself while we were

there, sitting idle at Pella. For myself, I chose to rescue and seek

out the captives, spending my own money and asking Philip to procure

their ransom[n] with the sums which he was offering us in the form of

presents. How Aeschines passed his whole time you shall hear presently.

{167} What then was the meaning of Philip's offering money to us in

common? He kept sounding us all--for this too I would have you know.

And how? He sent round privately to each of us, and offered us, men of

Athens, a very large sum in gold. But when he failed in a particular

case (for I need not mention my own name myself, since the proceedings

and their results will of themselves show to whom I refer), he thought

that we should all be innocent enough to accept what was given to us in

common; and then, if we all alike had a share, however small, in the

common present, those who had sold themselves privately would be

secure. {168} Hence these offers, under the guise of presents to his

guest-friends. And when I prevented this, my colleagues further divided

among themselves the sum thus offered. But when I asked Philip to spend

this sum on the prisoners, he could neither, without discredit,

denounce my colleagues, and say, 'But So-and-so has the money, and

So-and-so,' nor yet evade the expense. So he gave the promise, but

deferred its fulfilment, saying that he would send the prisoners home

in time for the Panathenaea. (_To the clerk._) Read the evidence of

Apollophanes, and then that of the rest of those present.

[_The evidence is read._]

{169} Now let me tell you how many of the prisoners I myself ransomed.

For while we were sitting waiting there at Pella, before Philip's

arrival, some of the captives--all, in fact, who were out on bail--not

trusting, I suppose, my ability to persuade Philip to act as I wished,

said that they wished to ransom themselves, and to be under no

obligation to Philip for their freedom: and they borrowed, one three

minae, another five, and another--whatever the amount of the ransom was

in each case. {170} But when Philip had promised that he would ransom

the rest, I called together those to whom I had advanced the money; I

reminded them of the circumstances; and, lest they should seem to have

suffered by their impatience, and to have been ransomed at their own

cost, poor men as they were, when all their comrades expected to be set

free by Philip, I made them a present of their ransom. To prove that I

am speaking the truth, (_to the clerk_) read these depositions.

[_The depositions are read._]

{171} These, then, are the sums which I excused them, and gave as a

free gift to fellow citizens who had met with misfortune. And so, when

Aeschines says presently, in his speech to you, 'Demosthenes, if, as

you say, you knew, from the time when I supported Philocrates'

proposal, that we were acting altogether dishonestly, why did you go

again as our colleague on the subsequent mission to take the oaths,

instead of entering a sworn excuse?' remember this, that I had promised

those whose freedom I had procured that I would bring them their

ransom, and deliver them to the best of my power. {172} It would have

been a wicked thing to break my word and abandon my fellow citizens in

their misfortune; while, on the other hand, if I had excused myself

upon oath from service, it would not have been altogether honourable,

nor yet safe, to make a tour there in a private capacity. For let

destruction, utter and early, fall upon me, if I would have joined in a

mission with these men for a very large sum of money, had it not been

for my anxiety to rescue the prisoners. It is a proof of this, that

though you twice elected me to serve on the Third Embassy, I twice

swore an excuse. And all through the journey in question my policy was

entirely opposed to theirs. {173} All, then, that it was within my own

power to decide in the course of my mission resulted as I have

described; but wherever in virtue of their majority they gained their

way, all has been lost. And yet, had there been any who listened to me,

all would have been accomplished in a manner congruous with my own

actions. For I was not so pitiful a fool as to give away money, when I

saw others receiving it, in my ambition to serve you, and yet not to

desire what could have been accomplished without expense, and would

have brought far greater benefits to the whole city. I desired it

intensely, men of Athens; but, of course, they had the advantage over

me.