by Demosthenes
Of all these heinous crimes against the commonwealth, gentlemen of the jury, he has been proved guilty. No element of baseness is lacking. Bribe-taker, sycophant, guilty under the curse, a liar, a traitor to his friends, — here are flagrant charges indeed! Yet he will not defend himself against any one of them; he has no honest and straightforward defence to offer. As for the topics on which, as I am informed, he intends to dwell, they border on insanity, — though, perhaps, a man devoid of any honest plea cannot help resorting to all manner of shifts. [202] For I hear that he will tell you that I participated in all the acts I am denouncing, that I approved of them, and co-operated with him, and now have suddenly changed my mind and become his accuser. That is no honest and decent defence against specific charges; it is, however, an accusation against me; for if I acted as he says, I am a worthless person; but that is far from making his actions a whit better. [203] However, it is incumbent on me, I suppose, first, to satisfy you that the allegation, if he makes it, will be false, and secondly, to show you what is an honest defence. Now it is an honest and straightforward defence to prove either that the acts alleged were never committed, or that, if committed, they were for the advantage of the state. But he cannot make good either of these positions. [204] He cannot claim as advantages the destruction of the Phocians, or Philip’s occupation of Thermopylae, or the aggrandizement of Thebes, or the invasion of Euboea, or the designs against Megara, or the unratified peace; for he reported himself that exactly the opposite was going to happen and would be to your advantage. Neither can he convince you, against the evidence of your own eyes and your own knowledge, that these disasters are fabulous. [205] My remaining duty is to prove that I had no partnership with these men in any of their doings. Is it your wish that I should put aside the rest of the story, — how I spoke against them in Assembly, how I fell out with them on the journey, how from first to last I persistently opposed them, — and should produce these men themselves as my witnesses to testify that my conduct and theirs has been utterly at variance, that they accepted money to thwart you, and that I refused it? Then observe. [206]
Whom would you call the most detestable person in all Athens, and the most swollen with impudence and superciliousness? No one, I am sure, would name, even by a slip of the tongue, anyone but Philocrates. Who is the most vehement speaker, the man who can express himself most emphatically with the aid of his big voice? Undoubtedly Aeschines. Whom do these men call timid and faint-hearted, or, as I should say, diffident, in addressing a crowd? Me; for I never worried you; I have never tried to dragoon you against your inclinations. [207] Well, at every Assembly, whenever there is any discussion of this business, you hear me denouncing and incriminating these men, and declaring roundly that they have taken bribes and made traffic of all the interests of the commonwealth; and no one of them ever contradicts me, or opens his mouth, or lets himself be seen. [208] How comes it then that the most impudent men in Athens, and the loudest speakers, are overborne by me, the nervous man, who can speak no louder than another? Because truth is strong, and consciousness of corruption weak. Conscience paralyses their audacity; conscience cripples their tongues, closes their lips, stifles them, puts them to silence. [209] You remember the most recent occasion, at Peiraeus only the other day, when you refused to appoint Aeschines to an embassy, how he bellowed at me: “I will impeach you, — I will indict you, — aha! aha!” And yet a threat of impeachment involves endless speeches and litigation; but here are just two or three simple words that a slave bought yesterday could deliver: “Men of Athens, here is a strange thing! This man accuses me of offences in which he himself took part. He says that I have taken bribes, when he took them, or shared them, himself.” [210] He never spoke, he never uttered a word of that speech; none of you heard it; he only vented idle menaces. The reason is that he was conscious of guilt; he cowered like a slave before those words; his thoughts did not approach them but recoiled from them, arrested by his evil conscience. Mere vague invective and abuse there was no one to stop. [211]
And now comes the strongest possible point — not a matter of assertion but of fact. I wished to do the honest thing, and to give an account of myself twice, because I had been appointed ambassador twice; but Aeschines approached the Court of Scrutiny, taking with him a crowd of witnesses, and forbade them to summon me, on the ground that I had already submitted to scrutiny, and was no longer liable. What was the real meaning of this ludicrous proceeding? Having himself rendered his account of the earlier embassy, with which nobody found fault, he did not wish to come into court in respect of the embassy for which he is now under examination; and that is the embassy that includes all his misdeeds. [212] But, if I came into court twice, he could not avoid a second appearance, and therefore he would not let me be summoned. Yet that act, men of Athens, proves two propositions: first, that Aeschines has pronounced his own condemnation, and therefore you cannot conscientiously acquit him today; and secondly, that he will not have a truthful word to say about me, otherwise he would have spoken out and denounced me then, instead of trying to block my summons. [213]
To prove the truth of these statements, please call the witnesses.
If, however, he says scurrilous things about me, not pertinent to the question of the embassy, there are many reasons why you should not listen. I am not on my trial today, and I shall have no second opportunity of speaking. It will only mean that he is destitute of honest arguments. No culprit would deliberately choose to prefer accusations, if he had any defence to offer. [214] Or again, look at it in this light, gentlemen of the jury. Suppose that I were on trial, with Aeschines for my accuser, and Philip for my judge, and suppose that, being unable to deny my guilt, I were to vilify Aeschines and throw mud at him; do you not think that that is just what would move Philip’s indignation, his own benefactors calumniated before his own tribunal? Do not be less rigorous than Philip, but compel him to address his defence to the real issues of this controversy. Now read the deposition.” Deposition “ [215]
Thus in my consciousness of innocence I thought it my duty to render my account and accept my full legal liability, while Aeschines did not. Is my conduct then the echo of his? Is it competent for him to lay before this court charges which he has never made before? Assuredly not; and yet he will lay them, for a very good reason. For you know that, ever since mankind and the criminal law first came into being, no culprit has ever been convicted while confessing his guilt. They vapor, they gainsay, they tell lies, they forge excuses, — anything to evade justice. [216] Do not be duped today by any of these stale tricks. You must pass judgement on the facts, according to your knowledge; you must pay no heed either to my assertions or to his, nor even to the witnesses whom he will have in waiting, with Philip as his paymaster, and you will see how glibly they will testify. You must not notice what a fine loud voice he has, and what a poor voice I have. [217] If you are wise, you must not treat this trial as a competition of forensic eloquence; but in regard to a dishonorable and perilous catastrophe, cast back upon the guilty the dishonor that attaches to it, after reviewing transactions that lie within the knowledge of you all. What, then, are the facts that you know and I need not recount? [218] If all the promised results of the peace have come true, if you confess yourselves so effeminate and so cowardly that, with no enemy within your borders, no blockade of your ports, no imperilment of your capital, with corn-prices low and every other condition as favorable as it is today, [219] and with foreknowledge on the assurance of your ambassadors that your allies would be ruined, that the Thebans would gain strength, that Philip would occupy the northern positions, that a basis of attack would be established against you in Euboea, and that everything that has in fact resulted would befall you, you thereupon cheerfully made the peace, by all means acquit Aeschines, and do not crown your other dishonors with the sin of perjury. He has done you no wrong, and I am a madman and a fool to accuse him. [220] But if the truth is otherwise, if they spoke handsomely of Philip and told you that he was the frie
nd of Athens, that he would deliver the Phocians, that he would curb the arrogance of the Thebans, that he would bestow on you many boons of more value than Amphipolis, and would restore Euboea and Oropus, if only he got his peace, — if, I say, by such assertions and such promises they have deceived and deluded you, and wellnigh stripped you of all Attica, find him guilty, and do not reinforce the outrages, for I can find no better word, — that you have endured, by returning to your homes laden with the curse and the guilt of perjury, for the sake of the bribes that they have pocketed. [221]
You should further ask yourselves, gentlemen of the jury, why, if they were not guilty, I should have gone out of my way to accuse them. You will find no reason. Is it agreeable to have many enemies? It is hardly safe. Perhaps I had an old standing feud with Aeschines? That is not so. “Well, but you were frightened on your own account, and were coward enough to seek this as a way of escape;” for that, I hear, is one of his suggestions. But, by your own account, Aeschines, there is no crime, and therefore no jeopardy. If he repeats the insinuation, do you, gentlemen, consider this: in a case where I, who did no wrong whatever, was yet afraid lest these men’s conduct should ruin me, what punishment ought they to suffer who were themselves the guilty parties? [222] However, that was not my reason. Then why am I accusing you? Perhaps as a common informer, to get money out of you? Which course was more profitable for me, to take money from Philip, who offered me a great deal, — as much as he gave them, — and so to make friends both with him and with them, — for indeed I might have had their friendship if I had been their accomplice, and even now there is no vendetta between us, only that I had no part in their malpractices, or to levy blackmail on their takings, and so incur Philip’s enmity and theirs; to spend all my money on the ransom of captives, and then expect to get a trifle back dishonorably and at the cost of their hostility? [223] The thing is impossible! No; I made honest reports; I kept my hands clean of corruption for the sake of truth and justice and of my future career, believing, as others have believed, that my honesty would be rewarded by your favor, and that my public spirit must never be bartered away for any emolument. I abhor these men because throughout the embassy I found them vicious and ungodly, and because by their corruption I have been robbed of the due reward of my patriotism, through your natural dissatisfaction with the whole business. I now denounce them, and I have attended this scrutiny, because I have a care for the future, and desire a decision recorded in this case and by this court that my conduct has been exactly opposed to theirs. [224] And yet I am afraid, — for all my thoughts shall be laid open to you, — I am afraid that hereafter you may destroy me with them in despite of my innocence, while today you are supine. For indeed, men of Athens, you seem to me to have become altogether slack, idly waiting for the advent of disaster. You see the distresses of others, but take no precaution for yourselves; you have no thought for the steady and alarming deterioration of your commonwealth. [225]
Do you not think this an extremely dangerous symptom? （For though I had decided to say nothing, I am tempted to speak out） Of course you know Pythocles, son of Pythodorus. I was on the most civil terms with him, and there has been no unpleasantness between us to this day. But now, since his visit to Philip, he turns aside whenever he meets me, and if he cannot avoid an encounter, he rushes off as soon as he can for fear he should be seen talking to me, while he will perambulate the whole market-place discussing plans with Aeschines. [226] It is shocking and scandalous, men of Athens, that Philip has such an acute perception of the fidelity or treachery of the men who have made subservience to him their policy, that they all expect that nothing they do even in Athens will escape the master’s eye, as though he stood at their very elbow, and that they must needs choose their private friends and enemies in obedience to his wishes; while those whose lives are devoted to your service, and who covet and have never betrayed the honor that you can bestow, encounter in you such dullness of hearing, such darkness of vision, that here am I today contending on equal terms with these pernicious persons, even in a court well acquainted with the whole history. [227] Would you like to know the reason? I will tell you, and I trust that you will not take offence at my candor. Philip, I take it, having one body and one soul loves those who help him and hates those who harm him with his whole heart, whereas no one of you regards the benefactor of the commonwealth as his benefactor, or the enemy of the commonwealth as his enemy. [228] Each man has other motives, of more importance to him, and thereby you are often led astray, — compassion, jealousy, resentment, good nature, and a thousand more. For even though a man escape every other danger, he can never wholly escape those who do not want such a person as he is to exist. But, little by little, by accumulation of these errors the foundation is sapped, and the integrity of public life collapses. [229]
Do not, men of Athens, give way to these motives today. Do not acquit the man who has done you such grievous wrong. Think of the story that will be told, if you do acquit him. Once upon a time certain ambassadors went from Athens to see Philip, and their names were Philocrates, Aeschines, Phryno, and Demosthenes. One of them not only made no gain from his mission, but delivered captives at his own expense; but another went about buying harlots and fish with the money for which he had sold his country. [230] One of them, named Phryno, a bold, bad man, sent his son to Philip before he had put him on the list of citizens; but another did not do anything that was unworthy of his country or himself. Though he was still paying for a chorus and a man-of-war, he thought it only right to spend more money of his own free will, to ransom captives, and to allow none of his countrymen to suffer distress through poverty. But another, instead of delivering any of the Athenians who were already in captivity, helped to bring a whole district, and ten thousand of the infantry and about a thousand of the cavalry of the allies into captivity to Philip. [231] The sequel was that the Athenians caught these bad men, for they knew all about it, and — what do you think? They released the men who had taken bribes and had disgraced themselves, the city, and their own children, because they thought that they were very sensible men, and that the city was going on nicely; but they thought that the man who accused them had gone out of his mind, and that he did not understand Athens, and that he did not know even how to fling his money away. [232]
With this example before his eyes, who, men of Athens, will ever wish to prove himself an honest man, or to go on embassy for nothing, if he is neither to make money nor to be held more worthy of your confidence than those who have made money? Today you are not merely adjudging this case: you are legislating for all future time, whether every ambassador is basely to serve your enemies for hire, or without fee or bribe to give his best service to you. [233] On these matters you need no further witness; but to prove that Phryno did send his son to Philip, please call the witnesses.
Now Aeschines never prosecuted Phryno for sending his own son to Philip with a dishonorable intention. But if a man in the bloom of his youth was more comely than others, and if, disregarding the suspicion that his personal charm might provoke, he has lived rather recklessly in later years, Aeschines must needs proceed against that man for immorality. [234]
Now let me say a word about my entertainment and my decree. I had nearly forgotten those all-important topics! When I was drafting the provisional resolution of the Council respecting the earlier embassy, and again in addressing the people at the Assemblies that were held to discuss the terms of peace, I followed the usual custom, and included a vote of thanks and an invitation to the public mess-table; for at that time no wrongful word or act of theirs had been disclosed. [235] It is also true that I entertained Philip’s ambassadors, and did the thing very handsomely; for, having observed in their own country that they take pride in such hospitality as evidence of wealth and splendor, I thought it my duty to outdo them with a more striking display of munificence. On the strength of these incidents, Aeschines will tell you: “Demosthenes thanked us, and entertained the ambassadors himself” — without mark
ing the distinction of time. [236] All this took place before the country had suffered wrong, and before it was evident that the envoys had sold themselves, immediately after the first return of the envoys, when the people had still to hear their report, and when it was not yet known that Aeschines would support Philocrates, or that Philocrates would move such a resolution. If he mentions the incidents, bear in mind that the dates were earlier than their offences, and that I have never since had any intimacy or any association with them. Read the deposition.” Deposition “ [237]
Perhaps he will find a brother to speak for him, Philochares or Aphobetus; to both of whom there is much that you can say with justice. （One must converse quite frankly, without any reserve.） We, Aphobetus and Philochares, although you, Philochares, were a painter of alabaster boxes and tambourines, and your brothers ordinary people, junior clerks and the like, — respectable occupations, but hardly suitable for commanding officers, — we, I say, dignified you with embassies, commands as generals, and other high distinctions. [238] Even if none of the family had committed any crime, you would have no claim on our gratitude, but we should have a large claim on yours; for we passed over many much more worthy claimants, and glorified you. But if in the actual enjoyment of those dignities one of you has committed a crime, and such a crime as this, do you not all deserve abhorrence much more than deliverance? That is my view. However, they will storm and bluster, — for they have very loud voices and very little modesty, — and will remind you that “it is no sin to help your kin.” [239] Do not give way to them. It is their business to think of Aeschines; it is your business to think of the laws, of the whole commonwealth, and above all of the oath in virtue of which you sit in that box. If they have besought any of you to deliver him, ask yourselves whether they mean in case he is not, or in case he is, guilty of a crime against the common weal. If they mean in case he is not guilty, I admit the plea; but if they mean, deliver him in any case, they have entreated you to perjure yourselves. For though the vote is secret, it will not escape the eye of Heaven. The legislator wisely discerned herein the essence of secret voting, that no suppliant shall know the name of the juror who has granted his prayer, but the gods and the divine spirit will know him who has cast an unrighteous vote. [240] Far better for each of you to make good his hopes of the blessing of Heaven for himself and his children, by recording a righteous and a dutiful verdict, than to bestow on these men a secret and unacknowledged favor, and acquit a man convicted by his own testimony. For what more powerful evidence, Aeschines, can I adduce for the many crimes of your embassy than the evidence you have given against yourself? You, who thought it necessary to implicate in so grievous a calamity one who purposed to bring a part of your misconduct to light, must surely have expected a terrible retribution if the jury should learn the true history of your deeds. [241]