by Demosthenes
Well, you appointed him a second time, men of Athens, as an envoy to receive the oath of ratification; and I shall shortly have to tell you how he again wasted time, mishandled all the affairs of the commonwealth, and repeatedly fell out with me in regard to them when I tried to stand in his way. However, by reason of the persistent misconduct of these men, and their disobedience to instructions, we came back from the embassy for the oaths — that is the embassy which is the subject of the present scrutiny — without having realized any single one, great or small, of the advantages which were promised or expected when you approved the peace, — with nothing but deception and disappointment. Then we repaired to the Council. There are many eye-witnesses of what I am about to relate, for the Council-house was thronged with spectators. [18] I came forward and reported the whole truth to the Council. I denounced these men, and told the whole story, point by point, beginning with those earlier hopes created by the reports of Ctesiphon and Aristodemus, going on to the more recent orations of Aeschines at the approval of the peace, and showing to what straits they had reduced the city. There remained the question of the Phocians and Thermopylae, and we must not — such was my advice — we must not repeat our experience, and throw them overboard, and so, in reliance upon a succession of idle hopes and assurances, allow ourselves to fall into the last extremity of disaster. I convinced the Council; [19] but when the Assembly met, and we had to address the whole body of citizens, Aeschines took the first turn of all of us. And here I most earnestly entreat you to verify my account by your own recollections; for I am now relating transactions which ultimately brought your affairs to complete and final ruin. He utterly ignored the duty of giving a report of the doings of the embassy. He never mentioned the speeches made to the Council, or told you whether he disputed the truth of my statement. But he made such a fine speech, so full of big promises, that he carried you all away with him. [20] For he declared that he had completely converted Philip to the interests of Athens in respect of the Amphictyonic question and of everything else. He went through a long diatribe against the Thebans, which he said he had addressed to Philip himself, recapitulating the main points. He offered you a calculation that, thanks to his diplomacy, without leaving your homes, without any campaigning or worry, within two or three days you would hear the news of the beleaguerment of Thebes, independently of the rest of Boeotia, [21] of the repopulation of Thespiae and Plataea, and of the recovery of Apollo’s treasure, not from the Phocians, but from the Thebans, who had planned the seizure of the temple. It was himself, he added, who had instructed Philip that those who contrived the project were quite as sacrilegious as the men by whose hands it was executed; and therefore the Thebans had set a price on his head! [22] He had even heard some Euboeans, who were thoroughly frightened by the friendship that had been cemented between Philip and Athens, utter these very words: “Gentlemen of the Embassy, we know all about the terms on which you have concluded peace with Philip, and we are aware that you have given up Amphipolis to him, and that he has agreed to hand over Euboea to you.” He had also, he said, settled another matter, but he thought it better not to mention it just yet — some of his colleagues were already so jealous of him. This was a veiled allusion to Oropus. [23] And so, in all the glory of these disclosures, with everybody regarding him as a grand speaker and a marvellous man, he descended from the tribune in his most majestic manner. Then I rose, and said that the whole story was news to me. I attempted to repeat the statement I had made to the Council; but Aeschines and Philocrates posted themselves one on either side of me — shouting, interrupting, and finally jeering. You were all laughing; you would not listen to me, and you did not want to believe anything except what Aeschines had reported. [24] And I must say that your feeling was quite natural. For how could anyone, filled with anticipation of those wonderful benefits, be patient of a speaker who told you that you would never get them, and even denounced the conduct of the benefactors? At the moment, I imagine, everything else was thrown into the shade by the hopes and expectations that were suggested to you; contradiction seemed to be mere annoyance and malice; and these great achievements were thought amazingly fine and most beneficial to the commonwealth. [25]
Why have I begun by reviving these memories and quoting those old speeches? My first and chief object, men of Athens, is that, when you hear me relate some performance that seems to you atrocious and incredible, no one may ask in surprise: “Then why did you not speak out and give us this information instantly?” [26] but that, by recalling the assurances by which on every occasion these men stopped others from getting your attention, and that magnificent promise of Aeschines, you may realize that you have to thank him for this crowning injury, — that you were precluded from learning the truth promptly and at the proper time, being cheated by hopes and impostures and vain assurances. [27] That, I say, is my first and main purpose in this narration. What is my second purpose? It is one of no less importance. I want you to remind yourselves of that policy of precaution and distrust of Philip which this man deliberately chose when he was still unbribed, and to compare the confidence and friendship that afterwards sprang up so suddenly; [28] and then, if the fair reports he laid before you have really proved true, and if all the results have been fortunate, to admit the view that that friendship was formed for truth’s sake and in the best interests of the city; but, if the sequel has given the lie to all his predictions, if it has involved the city in much dishonor and in grievous perils, then be assured that his own sordid greed has prompted this change of front, because he has sold the truth for a bribe. [29]
Having allowed myself to refer to those old speeches, I wish to relate first of all how these men took the business of the Phocians out of your hands. Gentlemen of the jury, I hope that none of you will regard my charges and accusations as too big for the calibre of the defendant, measuring him against the magnitude of the transactions. Reflect rather that, if any man soever, placed by you in the position he filled, and trusted to deal with the occasions that arose, had taken hire, and had sought to deceive and mislead you as Aeschines did, he would have brought about exactly the same disaster as Aeschines. [30] For though you often employ insignificant men for public business, it does not follow that those affairs are insignificant for which the rest of the world acknowledges our competence. Assuredly not. Again, it was Philip, of course, who really destroyed the Phocians; but these men co-operated. The question on which you are to fix your minds is whether they purposely wasted and threw away any chances that came to the embassy of saving the Phocians. I do not suggest that Aeschines destroyed the Phocians all by himself. How could he? [31]
Give me the resolution which the Council adopted on my report, and the evidence of the member who moved it on that occasion. These documents will satisfy you that I did not hold my peace then, to run away from my actions now, — for I was laying my complaint, and trying to forecast results, at the first opportunity; and also that the Council, not being debarred from hearing the truth from me, did not give these men either a vote of thanks, or an invitation to the public dinner in the Town Hall. We are told that these compliments had never before been withheld from any ambassadors since the foundation of Athens — not even from Timagoras, whom the Assembly condemned to death. These men, however, had to go without them. [32] Read first the deposition, and then the resolution, to the jury.” Deposition ““ Resolutions”
Here is no commendation, no invitation from the Council to the ambassadors to dine in the Town Hall. If Aeschines says that such a thing exists, let him produce and exhibit it, and I will sit down. But no; there is none. Now, if all the envoys acted alike, the Council was right in thanking nobody, — for we had all in very truth behaved scandalously indeed. But if some acted rightly and others wrongly, the well-conducted, it would seem, must submit to a discourtesy provoked by those who had played the rogue. [33] How then can you find an easy answer to the question, Who was the rogue? Consult your own recollections, and mark who denounced the transactions a
t the outset. For it is clear that, if the evil-doer could hold his peace, escape immediate detection, and never afterwards allow himself to be called to account, that was good enough for him; whereas the man with a good conscience bethought himself that it would be very hard if by keeping silence he should become a reputed accomplice in scandalous and wicked actions. Well then, it was I who denounced these men from the outset, and none of them denounced me. [34]
Well, the Council adopted this resolution. When the Assembly met, Philip was already at Thermopylae. For that is the beginning of their misdeeds; they had surrendered control to Philip and then, — although the right course for you was, first to hear the facts, next to decide, and finally to carry out your decision, — you heard nothing until he was already on the spot, and it was no easy matter to advise you what to do. [35] Further, no one read the resolution to the Assembly, and the people never heard it. However, Aeschines rose and delivered that oration which I have already described, about the wonderful advantages he had induced Philip to grant to you, and the price set on his head by the Thebans in consequence; and so, although you were at first alarmed at Philip’s approach, and indignant that the ambassadors had given you no warning, you became as mild as lambs, expecting to get all that you desired, and refused to hear a word from me or anyone else. [36] Then the letter from Philip was read. It had been composed by Aeschines without our knowledge, and was in fact a downright, explicit written defence of the errors these men had committed. For it alleges that Philip stopped them when they wanted to visit the towns and receive the oaths, and that he detained them in order that they might help him to reconcile the Halians with the Pharsalians; Philip takes on his own shoulders the burden of all their delinquencies: [37] but of the Phocians and the Thespians, and of all the promises reported to you by Aeschines, — not a word! The job was not managed in this fashion by mere accident. For derelictions of duty, for which they ought to have been brought to justice, and for their failure to do their work according to your instructions, Philip takes all the blame. He tells you it was his fault, — and of course you were never likely to have any opportunity of punishing him! [38] On the other hand, all the matters in which he was trying to cheat you and overreach you were left for Aeschines to report by word of mouth, so that you might never have it in your power to incriminate Philip or throw any blame on him, as the assertions were not to be found in the letter or in any other direct communication of his. Read to the jury the letter written by Aeschines and dispatched by Philip. You will observe that it agrees exactly with my description. Read.” Letter “ [39]
You hear the letter, men of Athens, — such a nice, courteous letter! But about the Phocians, about the Thebans, about everything that Aeschines reported — not a scrape of the pen! There is nothing in it that is honest, as you shall see at once. For he tells you that he detained them that they might help him to reconcile the Halians. Well, the reconciliation of the Halians consisted in their being cast out of their homes, and their country devastated. As for the prisoners, this man, who wanted to know what he could do to oblige you, declares that the idea of getting them liberated never entered his head. [40] You know that evidence has already been given before the Assembly, — and that evidence shall now be repeated, — that I had started with a talent in my pocket for their ransom; and therefore, to rob me of a patriotic act, Aeschines persuaded Philip to write these words. Now for the most important point. The man who, in the first letter, which we brought home, wrote these words: “I would write more explicitly of the benefits I intend to confer on you, if I were certain that the alliance will be made,” — this man, now that the alliance has been made, says that he does not know how he can gratify you. Not know the very thing he promised! Why, he must have known it, unless he was hoodwinking us throughout. To prove, however, that he did so write at that time, please take and read the actual passage from the first letter, — beginning here. Read.” Excerpt from the letter “ [41]
You see that, before he got his peace, he covenanted that, if you should make alliance with him as well, he would specify in writing the great benefits that he would confer on Athens. But now that both peace and alliance are concluded, he says that he does not know what he can do to oblige you, but that, if you will tell him, he will do anything “that is consistent with his own honor and reputation” — taking refuge in this saving clause, and leaving himself a loophole in case you make any proposal or are induced to ask any favor. [42]
All this chicanery, and much besides, might have been instantly detected, and you might have been informed and spared the sacrifice of your interests, if you had not been cheated out of the truth by that story of Thespiae and Plataea and the imminent punishment of the Thebans. Yet if Philip’s promises were merely for show, and if the city was to be deluded, it was right to mention them; if, on the other hand, they were really to be fulfilled, it was best to say nothing about them. For if the project was so far matured that the Thebans could gain nothing by hearing of it, why has it not been executed? But if it has been thwarted because they had news of it in time, who let the secret out? [43] Aeschines? Oh no; it was never meant to come off, and he neither wanted it nor expected it; let him be quit of the imputation of blabbing! The truth is that his purpose required that you should be hoodwinked by that talk; that you should refuse to hear the truth from me and should stay at home; and that they should triumphantly carry a decree ensuring the destruction of the Phocians. That is why this tissue of lies was woven; that is why it was made the theme of a popular harangue. [44]
Now when I heard him making all these fine promises, and knew to a certainty that he was lying, — but let me tell you why I knew. First, because, when Philip was on the point of swearing the oath of ratification, the Phocians were expressly excluded from the treaty by these men and that exclusion should have been passed over in silence, if the Phocians were to be delivered; and secondly because none of the ambassadors from Philip, nor Philip’s own letter, but only Aeschines, mentioned the promises. [45] So drawing my conclusions, I rose and presented myself, and made an attempt to reply. When you refused me a hearing, I held my peace, except that I protested — and I entreat that you will recall this — that I had no knowledge of the promises, nothing to do with them, and, I added, no faith in them. At the words “no faith in them,” you became exasperated; and I proceeded: “If any of these promises come true, men of Athens, be sure you give thanks and honors and decorations to these gentlemen; but not to me. If, however, things turn out otherwise, see that it is on them that you vent your wrath. I stand aside.” [46] “Not now,” said Aeschines, interrupting me, “do not stand aside now; only do not put in your claim then.” “Agreed;” said I, “if I do, I shall be in the wrong.” Then Philocrates rose, and said, in a very supercilious manner: “No wonder Demosthenes and I disagree, men of Athens. He drinks water; I drink wine.” And then you all laughed. [47]
Now look at the decree, which Philocrates afterwards drafted and handed to the clerk. It sounds well enough to the ear; but if you will take into account the occasion on which it was proposed, and the promises which Aeschines was making at the time, it will be clear that they were simply handing over the Phocians to Philip and the Thebans — I might almost say, with shackles on their wrists. Read the decree.” Decree “ [48]
You observe, men of Athens, how full the decree is of compliments and fine phrases; that it provides that the peace, and also the alliance, made with Philip shall be extended to his posterity; and that thanks are given to Philip for his promise of just dealings. But it was not Philip who had made any promises; so far from promising he says that he does not know what to do to oblige you. [49] It was Aeschines who was Philip’s spokesman and gave undertakings. Then Philocrates, taking advantage of your ready acceptance of Aeschines’ words, inserts in the decree a clause providing that, if the Phocians should not do what was right and give up the temple to the Amphictyonic Council, the Athenian people should send a force to coerce the recalcitrants. [50] And so, men of Ath
ens, as you stayed at home instead of taking the field, as the Lacedaemonians had discerned Philip’s treachery and withdrawn, and as no members of the Council were on the spot except the Thessalians and the Thebans, he really has proposed, with the utmost civility, to hand the temple over to them. The wording is, “to the Amphictyons;” but what Amphictyons? There were none there except Thessalians and Thebans. He makes no such proposal as that the Amphictyonic Council should be convened, or that operations should be suspended until it meets, or that Proxenus should march against the Phocians, or that the Athenians should take the field. [51] Philip, however, did send you two letters of summons. Yes, but not with the intention that you should take the field. That is certain; otherwise he would not have destroyed your opportunity of going out before he summoned you, nor would he have detained me when I wanted to sail home, nor ordered Aeschines to make statements calculated to deter you from going out. No, his object was that you, in the belief that he would do all that you wanted, should make no decree prejudicial to him, and the Phocians might not stand their ground and hold out in reliance upon hopes afforded by you, but might make unconditional surrender to him in sheer desperation. Read Philip’s actual letters.” Letters “ [52]