The Public Orations of Demosthenes, volume 1

by Demosthenes

[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.