On the False Embassy

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 at 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.

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.

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.

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:

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!

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.

(The Letter is read)

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.

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.

(The Excerpt is read)

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.

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?

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.

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;[*](The clause excluding the Phocians from the benefit of the peace had been rescinded by the Assembly (See Dem. 19.159). Aeschines and his friends were therefore acting ultra vires in restoring the clause, when they administered the oath. Had they been really convinced that Philip intended to spare the Phocians, they would have retained the more general phrase,the Athenians and their allies. It is more probable that Philip himself insisted on excluding the Phocians, and the ambassadors were as powerless as the Roman senators before Alaric.) and secondly because none of the ambassadors from Philip, nor Philip’s own letter, but only Aeschines, mentioned the promises.

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.

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.

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.

(The Decree is read)

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.

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.

And so, men of Athens, 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.