Against Timocrates

Gentlemen of the jury, I am amazed at the man’s effrontery. To think that, when he and Androtion were in office, he never had any compassion for the great body of your fellow-citizens, who were exhausted with paying income-tax, and that then when Androtion was called upon to refund money, both sacred and civil, which he had long before stolen from the State, he must needs propose a law to deprive you of the double repayment of civil, and the tenfold repayment of sacred, liabilities! Thus the whole mass of you citizens has been attacked by a man who was immediately afterwards to pretend that he had framed his law as a friend of the people.

In my view, no punishment could be too severe for a man who, when some market-clerk, or street-inspector, or judge of a local court,—some poor, unskilled man, without experience, and appointed to his office by lot,—has been found guilty of peculation at the audits, demands from him a tenfold restitution, and has no new law to propose for the relief of such delinquents, and then, when ambassadors, elected by vote of the people, men of substance, have embezzled and long retained large sums of money, the property in part of the temples, in part of the treasury, is at great pains to invent for them a way of escape from penalties ordained both by decree and by statute.

And yet Solon, gentlemen of the jury,—and even Timocrates cannot pretend to be a legislator of the same calibre as Solon,—so far from providing such defaulters with the means of swindling in security, actually introduced a law to ensure that they should either refrain from crime or be adequately punished. For a theft in day-time of more than fifty drachmas a man might be arrested summarily and put into custody of the Eleven. If he stole anything, however small, by night, the person aggrieved might lawfully pursue and kill or wound him, or else put him into the hands of the Eleven, at his own option. A man found guilty of an offence for which arrest is lawful was not allowed to put in bail and refund the stolen money; no, the penalty was death.

Or suppose that he stole a cloak, or an oil-flask, or any such trifle, from the Lyceum, or the Academy, or Cynosarges, or any utensil from the gymnasia or the harbors, above the value of ten drachmas, for such thefts also Solon enacted the capital penalty. If a man was found guilty on a private prosecution for theft, while the normal penalty was double reparation, the court was empowered to add to the fine the extra penalty of imprisonment for five days and as many nights, so that everybody might see the thief in jail. You heard those laws read not long ago.

Solon’s view was that the doer of infamous deeds ought not to get off with mere repayment of the money stolen; for it seemed to him that there would be no lack of thieves on such terms,—if they had the chance of keeping their booty if undetected, and of simply restoring it if caught. They must pay double; they must be imprisoned as well as fined, and so live in disgrace for the rest of their lives. Not so Timocrates; he made arrangements for a simple, instead of a double, reparation, and for no sort of additional penalty.

Nor was he content to be guilty of this iniquity in respect of future offences only; he released even the man who had already committed his crime, and already been punished. I, however, used to suppose that legislators were concerned with the future, making laws to direct how people should behave, how every thing should he managed, and what should be the proper penalties for different transgressions. That is what is meant by making the laws the same for all citizens. To frame statutes for past transactions is not to legislate, but to rescue malefactors.

You may judge that what I am telling you is true by reflecting that, if Euctemon had been convicted on the charge of illegal legislation, Timocrates would never have proposed his law, and the State would never have wanted his law; his friends would have been content to plunder the property of the State, without any concern for other people. But in fact Euctemon was acquitted and therefore Timocrates demands that your decision, the judgement of the court, and every other statute shall be invalidated, and that he and his law shall alone be authoritative.

—And yet, Timocrates, laws which are still authoritative have given supreme authority to the gentlemen of the jury. The laws permit them, after hearing the case, to adjust their condemnation of the offender to their view of the gravity of the offence; light for light, heavy for heavy. Whenever the phrase is, what penalty, corporal or pecuniary, should be awarded, the award is at the discretion of the jury.

You, then, abolish the corporal penalty by remitting imprisonment. For whom? For thieves and temple-robbers, for parricides, murderers, shirkers, and deserters. All such men you protect by your law. And yet does not a man who, under a free constitution, legislates, not to protect the temples, not to protect the people, but to protect such people as I have named, deserve to suffer the extreme penalty?

—Certainly he cannot deny that such people ought to be, and that the laws make them, liable to the heaviest punishments. Neither can he deny that the men for whose protection he has invented his law are thieves and temple-robbers; for the have robbed the temples of the ten per cent due to Athena and of the two per cent due to the other gods; they keep the money in their own pockets instead of making restitution, and they have stolen the public share, which belonged to you. Their sacrilege differs from other forms of sacrilege to this extent,—that they never even paid the money into the Acropolis as they ought.

As Heaven is my witness, gentlemen of the jury, I believe Androtion became the victim of this arrogant, overbearing temper, not by accident, but by the visitation of the gods, to the end that, as the mutilators of the statue of Victory perished by their own hands,[*](Nothing is known of this incident.) so these men should perish by litigation among themselves, and should either make tenfold restitution, as the laws direct, or be cast into prison.

I should like to make an observation about his law which occurred to my mind while I was speaking about these matters,—something quite out of the common, indeed surprisingly so. The defendant, gentlemen of the jury, has proposed that the penalty inflicted upon farmers of taxes, if they did not pay their dues, should be in accordance with the earlier statutes, in which the penalty provided is imprisonment and double restitution for men who, in consequence of losses on their contract, might possibly do the State a wrong unintentionally. On the other hand, he abolishes imprisonment for men who steal the property of the State and rob the temples of the Goddess.—If you tell us, Timocrates, that the latter are guilty of a less serious offence than the former, you must admit that you are out of your senses; and if you think their offence more serious, as indeed it is, and yet release them and refuse to release the others, is it not evident that you have sold your services to these men for a bribe?

Another remark worth making, gentlemen of the jury, is that you are far more magnanimous than the politicians. Anyhow you do not repeal the harsh enactments made against the common people,—against those, for instance, who take fees from both parties, or attend the Assembly or sit on a jury while in debt to the treasury, or do anything else forbidden by the laws,—although you know that any man who commits one of these offences may do so because he is poor. You do not enact laws to give liberty of transgression, but rather to take it away. They, on the other hand, make laws to rescue from punishment persons guilty of the most infamous and outrageous misconduct.

And then in private they talk insultingly about you, as though they were superior persons, though they are really behaving like ill-conditioned, ungrateful servants. Servants who have been manumitted, you know, gentlemen of the jury, are never grateful to their masters for their liberation, but hate them more bitterly than they hate anyone else, as sharing in the secret of their former servitude. In the same spirit politicians are not satisfied with having risen from poverty to affluence at the expense of the City, but calumniate the common people,—because the common people know what their style of life was when they were young and poor.

But it would perhaps, as he may suggest, have been a great shame for Androtion to be sent to prison, or for Glaucetes, or Melanopus. No, indeed, gentlemen of the jury! It will be a far greater shame if an injured and insulted commonwealth shall exact no retribution for the Goddess or for itself. Does not imprisonment run in Androtion’s family? Why, you know yourselves that his father often went to jail for five years at a stretch; and then he was not discharged—he ran away.

Or has he earned forgiveness by his conduct in youth? Why, he deserves imprisonment for that conduct just as much as for his embezzlements. Do you mean because he frequented the market-place before he was qualified, and with his own hands haled men of respectable life from the market-place to the jail? But there is Melanopus, you say, and what a dreadful thing it would be if Melanopus were committed to prison today!

Well, about his father I will say nothing disrespectful; though I could tell you a long story about thieving,—however, so far as I am concerned, let his father be worthy of all the compliments that Timocrates may lavish upon him. But suppose that the son of this virtuous father was himself a rascal and a thief; suppose that he once paid a fine of three talents on conviction for treason; suppose that, after he had sat in the Allied Congress,[*](The Second Athenian Confederacy, as reformed in 377.) the court found him guilty of embezzlement, and ordered him to make tenfold restitution; suppose that he played false when he went on embassy to Egypt; suppose that he swindled his own brothers—does he not deserve imprisonment all the more if his father was virtuous, and he is what he is? For my part, I fancy that, if Laches[*](The father of Melanopus; probably not the well-known general who fell at Mantinea, 418.) really was virtuous and patriotic, he should himself have sent his degenerate son to jail for implicating him in such infamous scandals. However, let us pass Melanopus by, and fix our gaze upon Glaucetes.

Was not he the man who first ran away to Deceleia, and, with Deceleia as his base, overran and harried your country? But you all know that. Was it not he who scrupulously paid to the Spartan governor at that place tithes due upon your wives and children and all the rest of his booty;