Against Aristocrates

For a base of operations,—on which he has constantly kept his eyes,—he has the city of the Cardians. In all his conventions he has had that city reserved to himself, and in the end he openly stole it from you. Yet why should men who had entirely got rid of any unjust feelings toward us, and had resolved candidly and with entire sincerity to be friendly to us, have left themselves a convenient base of operations for a war against us?

I am sure that you all know,—those of you who have visited the place know for certain, and the rest by hearing their report,—that, the condition of Cardia being what it is, if the relations of Cersobleptes with the Thracians ever become favorable, he is able at twenty-four hours’ notice to invade the Chersonesus quite safely. Indeed by its situation the city of the Cardians occupies a position in the Chersonesus in relation to Thrace analogous to the position of Chalcis in Euboea in relation to Boeotia. Those of you who know its situation cannot be unaware of the advantage for the sake of which he has acquired it for himself, and has taken great pains to keep it out of our hands.

It is not your duty to help him to secure this advantage against yourselves; you must thwart him to the very best of your power, and consider how to prevent it, for he has made it quite clear that he is not the man to let slip any occasion whatsoever. In fact, when Philip came to Maroneia, he sent Apollonides to him, and gave pledges both to him and to Pammenes; and if Amadocus, who had control of the country, had not forbidden Philip to set foot there, there was nothing to prevent our being at war by this time with the Cardians and with Cersobleptes.—To prove that this statement of mine is true, take Chares’ letter.

(The Letter is read.)

In view of these facts you ought to distrust him, instead of losing your wits and giving him your attention as a benefactor. There is no reason why you should owe him gratitude for those deceitful professions of friendship which he offers under compulsion, nor for the small sums which he lays out for the benefit of your commanders and politicians,[*](Lit. orators, but the word has sometimes the derogatory implication of professional politicians.) thereby contriving to get votes of thanks to himself submitted to you. You have far better cause to resent those efforts to do you harm, which we know him to be making in every place where he has won the power of acting as he pleases.

All other persons who have ever received any favour from you have been honored for benefits conferred on you; Charidemus is the one and only man who is honored for the impotence of his efforts to do you harm. Why, to such a fellow exemption from the punishment he had justly earned was a handsome gratuity! But that is not the view of the politicians; no, make him a citizen, dub him benefactor,—here are crowns and presents,—in return for those private doles of his! The rest of you are gulled, and sit there wondering what is going on.

And, to crown all, today they would have appointed his protectors by this resolution, if we had not laid the present indictment, and the commonwealth would have done duty as his hired servant and lackey, keeping guard over a Charidemus! A pretty business, is it not? Heaven help us! to think that a man, who once shouldered a pike for hire in the service of your enemies, should now be seen protected by your decree!

Now perhaps I may be asked for what reason I, who had such exact knowledge of these doings, and had given close attention to some of his misdeeds, let them all pass; why I did not object either when you made him a citizen or when you gave him a vote of thanks; why, in short, I found nothing to say at any time earlier than the passing of this decree. Men of Athens, I will tell you the whole truth. I knew that he was undeserving; I was present when he asked these favours; I made no objection. I admit it.

What was the reason? In the first place, men of Athens, I imagined that a great many men glibly telling lies about him would overpower one man, namely myself, telling the truth alone. Then as for the favours that he won by misleading you, I solemnly protest that it never entered my head to grudge him any one of them. I could not see that you would buffer any very grievous calamity, if you forgave a man who had done you much wrong, and so encouraged him to do you good service in future. Both these considerations applied to the grant of citizenship and to the grant of a crown.

But now, when I perceive that he is contriving a new plan by which, if only he can provide himself with agents here to mislead you on his behalf, our friends abroad, who are ready to serve you and to stop him from acting against you,—I mean such men as Athenodorus, Simon, Archebius of Byzantium, the two kings of Thrace,—will all find it out of their power to oppose or to thwart him, at such a time I come into court and denounce him.

I conceive that to speak against grants which he might accept without being likely to do serious injury to the State, is the act of one who has either a private grievance or the spirit of an informer, but that to set myself in opposition to a project by which he was concerting very serious detriment to the commonwealth is the act of an honest man and a patriotic citizen. That is why I was silent then and speak now.

There is another plea of the same sort by which they hope to lead you off the track. Cersobleptes and Charidemus, they will say, did perhaps oppose Athens at a time when they were unfriendly; but now they are our friends, and wish to be useful friends. We really must not be vindictive. When we were rescuing the Lacedaemonians, we dismissed from our minds the injuries they had done to us as enemies; so too with the Thebans, and, quite recently, with the Euboeans.

—But I hold that this plea would have been rightly offered, if they had offered it on some occasion when an expedition in relief of Cersobleptes and Charidemus had been proposed, and we were trying to block it. But, as we have here no such occasion and no such proposal, but only the argument of men trying to make Cersobleptes more powerful than he deserves by means of an immunity received from you by his generals, I regard their action as dangerous. It is not fair, men of Athens, that the pleas of men seeking deliverance should be offered to you in justification of men whose object is the power to do you wrong.

Apart from that, if he had injured you as an enemy, but had been reformed after claiming to be your friend, such an excuse might, perhaps, have been acceptable; but, inasmuch as that is not so, and as most of his deceptions fall after the date of his profession of friendship, you ought to distrust him for his later, if not to dislike him for his earlier, conduct. With regard, however, to not being vindictive, I have this to say. The vindictive man is the man who hunts up grievances in order to inflict injury; the man who bears them in mind in order to be on his guard and not suffer injury, is a reasonable man.

Perhaps they will make a suggestion of this sort: the man has now embarked on a course of friendship, and really wants to do Athens a good turn; if we condemn the decree, we shall be discouraging him, and filling him with mistrust of us. Well, men of Athens, my attitude is this; please consider it. If he were our friend honestly and in all sincerity, if he really did intend to do us all manner of good, even then I should not think this argument worthy of your attention. In my judgement there is no man who could possibly do you so much service that for his sake you ought to perjure yourselves and vote against proven justice.

Seeing that he is convicted of deceit and perpetual dishonesty,—vote against him, and one of two desirable results must follow. Either he will abandon his impostures on the ground that they can no longer escape detection, or else, if it is his desire to be really on good terms with us, he will make a genuine effort to serve us well, having discovered that he can no longer accomplish his purposes by chicanery. For that reason alone, if for no other, you will do well to give your verdict against him.

It is also opportune, men of Athens, to inquire how our forefathers bestowed distinctions and rewards upon genuine benefactors, whether they were citizens or strangers. If you find their practice better than yours, you will do well to follow their example; if you prefer your own, it rests with you to continue it. Take first Themistocles, who won the naval victory at Salamis, Miltiades, who commanded at Marathon, and many others, whose achievements were not on a level with those of our commanders today.[*](By not equal Demosthenes seems here to mean superior.) Our ancestors did not put up bronze statues of these men, nor did they carry their regard for them to extremes.

So they were not grateful to those who had served them well? Yes, men of Athens, they were very grateful; they showed their gratitude in a manner that was equally creditable to themselves and the recipients. They were all men of merit, but they chose those men to lead them; and to men of sobriety, who have a keen eye for realities, being raised to the primacy of a brave and noble people is a far greater distinction than any effigy of bronze.

The truth is, gentlemen, that they would not rob themselves of their own share in any of those ancient achievements; and no man would say that the battle of Salamis belonged to Themistocles,—it was the battle of the Athenians; or that the victory at Marathon belonged to Miltiades,—it was the victory of the commonwealth. But today, men of Athens, it is commonly said that Corcyra was captured by Timotheus, that the Spartan battalion was cut to pieces by Iphicrates, that the naval victory off Naxos was won by Chabrias. It really looks as though you disclaimed any merit for those feats of arms by the extravagant favours that you lavish on the several commanders.

Thus they distributed rewards within the city righteously and to the public advantage; we do it the wrong way. But what about those bestowed on strangers? When Meno of Pharsalus had given us twelve talents for the war at Eion near Amphipolis, and had reinforced us with three hundred of his own mounted serfs, they did not pass a decree that whoever slew Meno should be liable to seizure; they made him a citizen, and thought that distinction adequate.

Or take Perdiccas, who was reigning in Macedonia at the time of the Persian invasion, and who destroyed the Persians on their retreat from Plataea, and made the defeat of the King irreparable. They did not resolve that any man should be liable to seizure who killed Perdiccas, the man who for our sake had provoked the enmity of the great King; they gave him our citizenship, and that was all. The truth is that in those days to be made a citizen of Athens was an honor so precious in the eyes of the world that, to earn that favour alone, men were ready to render to you those memorable services. Today it is so worthless that not a few men who have already received it have wrought worse mischief to you than your declared enemies.