On the False Embassy

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.

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.

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.

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.

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,[*](i.e. performing the public services (λῃτουργίαι) of the choragia and the trierarchia.) 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.

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.

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.

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[*](Timarchus.) 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.

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.

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 marking the distinction of time.

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.

(The Deposition is read)

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.

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.

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.

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.

If you are wise, that performance of his will now be turned to his disadvantage, not only because it was a powerful indication of his misconduct, but because he employed in his prosecution arguments that are now valid against himself. For surely the principles which you, Aeschines, laid down when you prosecuted Timarchus ought to have equal weight for others against you.

Now on that occasion he observed to the jury: Demosthenes will conduct this man’s defence, and will denounce my conduct of the embassy; and then, if he leads you astray by his speech, he will go about in his conceited way, and boast: How did I do it? What did I say? Why, I led the jury clean away from the question; filched the whole case from them, and came off triumphant. Then do not follow my example: address your defence to the real issue. You had your opportunity of denouncing and saying what you chose when you were the prosecutor.

Moreover, having no witnesses to produce in support of your accusations, you quoted verses to the jury:

1. Rumor, that many people spread abroad,
2. Dieth not wholly: Rumor is a god.

That you may understand how far more numerous are your accusers than those of Timarchus, observe this. He was not known even to all his neighbors; but there is not a man in Greece or in foreign parts who does not aver that you ambassadors made gain of your embassy. If rumor is true, the rumor of the multitude is against you; and for the veracity, and even the divinity, of rumor, and for the wisdom of the poet who composed these verses, we have your own assurance.

After these heroics he naturally proceeds to collect and declaim some iambic poetry, for instance:

1. Whoso delights to walk with wicked men,
2. Of him I ask not, for I know him such
3. As are the men whose converse pleases him.