which in all ages had been the enemy of Greece, and had often vowed their destruction. It must be confessed that this is a most noble plan, and highly worthy a great prince. But Isocrates had a very false idea of Philip, if he thought this monarch would ever put it into execution. Philip did not possess the equity, moderation, or disinterestedness, which such a project required. He really intended to attack Persia, but was persuaded that it was his business first to make himself secure of Greece, which indeed he was determined to do, not by kind services, but by force. He did not endeavour either to win over or persuade nations, but to subject and reduce them. As on his side he had no manner of regard for alliances and treaties, he judged of others by himself, and wished to bind them to himself by much stronger ties than those of friendship, gratitude, and sincerity. As Demosthenes was better acquainted with the state of affairs than Isocrates, so he formed a truer judgment of Philip's designs. Upon his return from his embassy, he declares expressly, that he does not approve either of the discourse or the conduct of the Macedonian king, but that every thing is to be dreaded from him. On the contrary, Eschines, who had been bribed, assures the Athenians, that he had discovered nothing but the greatest candour and sincerity in the promises and proceedings of this king. He had engaged that Thespia and Platææ should be re-peopled, in spite of the opposition of the Thebans; that in case he should succeed in subjecting the Phocæans, he would preserve them, and not do them the least injury; that he would restore Thebes to the good order which had before been observed in it; that Ŏropus should be given up absolutely to the Athenians; and that, as an equivalent for Amphipolis, they should be put in possession of Euboea. It was to no purpose that Demosthenes remonstrated to his fellow-citizens, that Philip, notwithstanding all these glorious promises, was endeavouring to make himself absolute master of Phocis; and that by abandoning it to him they would betray the commonwealth, and give up all Greece into his hands. He was not attended to; and the oration of Eschines, who engaged that Philip would make good his several promises, prevailed over that of Demosthenes. A. M. 3658. Ant. J. C. 346. These deliberations gave that prince an opportunity to possess himself of Thermopyla, and to enter Phocis.' Hitherto there had been no possibility of reducing the Phocæans; but Philip had only to appear; the bare sound of his name filled them with terror. Upon the supposition that he was marching against a herd of sacrilegious wretches, not against common enemies, he ordered all his soldiers to wear crowns of laurel, and led them to battle as under the conduct of the god himself whose honour they avenged. The instant they appeared, the Phocæans believed themselves overcome. Accordingly, they sue for peace, and yield to Philip's mercy, who gives Phalecus their leader leave to retire into Peloponnesus, with the 8000 men in his service. In this manner Philip, with very little trouble, engrossed all the honour of a long and bloody war, which had exhausted the forces of both parties. This victory gained him incredible honour throughout all Greece, and his glorious expedition was the sole topic of conversation in that country. He was considered as the avenger of sacrilege, and the protector of religion; and they almost ranked in the number of the gods the man who had defended their majesty with so much courage and success. Philip, that he might not seem to do any thing by his own private authority, in an affair which concerned all Greece, assembles the council of the Amphictyons, and appoints them, for form's sake, supreme judges of the pains and penalties to which the Phocæans had rendered themselves obnoxious. Under the name of these judges, who were entirely at his devotion, he decrees that the cities of Phocis shall be destroyed, that they should all be reduced to small towns of sixty houses each, and that those towns shall be at a certain distance one from the other; that those wretches who had committed the sacrilege shall be irrevocably proscribed; and that the rest shall not enjoy their possessions, but upon condition of paying an annual tribute, which shall continue to be levied till such a time as the whole sums taken out of the temple of Delphi shall be repaid. Philip did not forget himself upon this occasion. After he had subjected the rebellious Phocæans, he demanded that their right of session in the council of the Amphictyons, which they had been declared to have forfeited, should be transferred to him. · The Amphictyons, of whose vengeance he had now been the instrument, were afraid to refuse him, and accordingly admitted him a member of their body; a circumstance of the highest importance to him, as we shall see in the sequel, and of very dangerous conse quence to all the rest of Greece. They also gave him the superintendence of the Pythian games, in conjunction with the Boeotians and Thessalians; because the Corinthians, who possessed this privilege hitherto, had rendered themselves unworthy of it, by sharing in the sacrilege of the Phocæans. When news was brought to Athens of the treatment which the Phocæans had met with, the former perceived, but too late, the wrong step they had taken in refusing to comply with the counsels of Demosthenes; and in abandoning themselves blindly to the vain and idle promises of a traitor, who had sold his country. Besides the shame and grief with which they were seized, for having failed in the obligations by which they were bound to the Phocæans by their confederacy with them, they found that they had betrayed their own interests in abandoning their allies. For Philip, by possessing himself of Phocis, was become master of Thermopyla, which opened him the gates, and put into his hands the keys of Greece. The Athenians,' therefore, being justly alarmed upon their own ac count, gave orders that the women and children should be brought out of the country into the city; that the walls should be repaired, and the Piraeus fortified, in order to put themselves into a state of defence in case cf an invasion. The Athenians had no share in the decree by which Philip had been admitted among the Amphictyons. They perhaps had absented themselves purposely, that they might not authorize it by their presence; or, which was more probable, Philip, in order to remove the obstacles and avoid the impediments he might meet with in the execution of his design, assembled, in an irregular manner, such of the Amphictyons alone as were entirely at his devotion. In short, he conducted his intrigue so very artfully, that he obtained his ends. This election might be disputed as clandestine and irregular; and therefore he required a confirmation of it from the states, who, as members of that body, had a right either to reject or ratify the new choice. Athens received the circular invitation; but in an assembly of the people, which was called in order to deliberate on Philip's demand, several were of opinion that no notice should be taken of it. Demosthenes, however, was of a contrary opinion; and though he did not approve in any manner of the peace which had been concluded with Philip, he did not think it would be for their interest to infringe it in the present juncture; since that could not be done without stirring up against the Athenians both the new Amphictyon and those who had elected him. His advice therefore was, that they should not expose themselves unseasonably to the dangerous consequences which might ensue, in case of their determinate refusal to consent to the almost unanimous decree of the Am Demosth. de fals. Legat. p. 312. phictyons; and protested, that it was their interest prudently to submit, for fear of worse, to the present condition of the times; that is, to comply with what was not in their power to prevent. This is the subject of Demosthenes's discourse, entitled, Oration on the Peace. We may reasonably believe that his advice was followed. SECTION V.-philip, being reTURNED TO MACE- THOSE PLACES. A. M. 3660. Ant. J. C. 344. AFTER Philip had settled every thing relating to the worship of the god, and the security of the temple of Delphi, he returned into Macedonia crowned with glory, and carrying with him the reputation of a religious prince and an intrepid conqueror. Diodorus observes, that all those who had shared in profaning and plundering the temple, perished miserably, and came to a tragical end. Philip, satisfied with having opened to himself a passage into Greece by his seizure of Thermopyla; having subjected Phocis, established himself one of the judges of Greece, by his new dignity of Amphictyon; and gained the esteem and applause of all nations, by his zeal to avenge the honour of the deity: judged very prudently, that it would be proper for him to check his career, in order to prevent all the states of Greece from taking arms against him, by discovering too soon his ambitious views with regard to that country. In order, therefore, to remove all suspicion, and to soothe the disquietudes which arose on that occasion, he turned his arms against Illyria, purposely to extend his frontiers on that side, and to keep his troops always in exercise by some new expedition. 3 selves to Philip, who did not fail to take them under his protection. Diopithes, the head of the colony which the Athenians had sent into A. M. 3662. Chersonesus, looking upon this step Ant. J. C. 342. in Philip as an act of hostility against the commonwealth, without waiting for an order, and fully persuaded that it would not be disavowed, marches suddenly into the dominions of that prince in the maritime part of Thrace, whilst he was carrying on an important war in Upper Thrace; plunders them before he had time to return and make head against him, and carries off a rich booty, all which he lodged safe in Chersonesus. Philip, not being able to avenge himself in the manner he could have wished, contented himself with making grievous complaints to the Athenians by letters on that subject. Such as received pensions from him in Athens, served him but too effectually. These venal wretches loudly exclaimed against a conduct, which, if not prudent, was at least excusable. They declaim against Diopithes; impeach him of involving the state in war; accuse him of extortion and piracy; insist upon his being recalled, and prosecute his condemnation with the utmost heat and violence. Demosthenes, seeing at this juncture that the public welfare was inseparably connected with that of Diopithes, undertook his defence, which is the subject of his oration on the Chersonesus. This Diopithes was father to Menander, the comic poet, whom Terence has copied so faithfully. Diopithes was accused of oppressing the allies by his unjust exactions. However, Demosthenes lays the least stress on this, because it was personal; he nevertheless pleads his apology (transiently) from the example of all the generals, to whom the islands and cities of Asia Minor paid certain voluntary contributions, by which they purchased security to their merchants, and procured convoys for them to guard them against the pirates. It is true, indeed, that a man may exercise oppressions, and ransom allies very unseasonably. But in this case, a bare decree, an accusation in due form, a galley appointed to bring home the recalled general; all this is sufficient to put a stop to abuses. But it is otherwise with regard to Philip's enterprises. These cannot be checked either by decrees or menaces; and nothing will do this effectually, but raising troops, and fitting out galleys. แ The same motive prompted him afterwards to go into Thrace. In the very beginning of his reign he "Your orators," says he, "cry out eternally to you, had dispossessed the Athenians of several strong that we must make choice either of peace or war; but places in that country. Philip still carried on his Philip does not leave this at our option, he who is conquests there. Suidas observes, that before he daily meditating some new enterprise against us. took Olynthus, he had made himself master of thirty- And can we doubt but it was he who broke the peace, two cities in Chalcis, which is part of Thrace. The unless it is pretended that we have no reason to comChersonesus also was situated very commodiously for plain of him, as long as he shall forbear making any him. This was a very rich peninsula, in which there attempts on Attica and the Piraeus? But it will were a great number of powerful cities and fine pasture then be too late for us to oppose him; and it is now lands. It had formerly belonged to the Athenians. that we must prepare strong barriers against his ambiThe inhabitants put themselves under the protection of tious designs. You ought to lay it down as a certain Lacedæmonia, when Lysander had captured Athens; maxim, O Athenians! that it is you he aims at; that but submitted again to their first masters, after Conon, he considers you as his most dangerous enemies; that the son of Timotheus, had reinstated his country. Co- your ruin alone can establish his tranquillity, and setys, king of Thrace, afterwards dispossessed the Athe-cure his conquests; and that whatever he is now pronians of the Chersonesus; but it was restored to them by Chersobleptus, son of Cotys, who finding himself unable to defend it against Philip, gave it up to them the fourth year of the 106th Olympiad; reserving, however, to himself Cardia, which was the most considerable city of the peninsula, and formed, as it were, the gate and entrance to it. After Philip had deprived Chersobleptus of his kingdom, which happened the second year of the 109th Olympiad, the inhabitants of Cardia being afraid of falling into the hands of the Athenians, who claimed their city as having formerly belonged to them, submitted them A. M. 3661. Ant. J. C. 343. jecting, is merely with the view of falling upon you, "What conclusions are we to draw from all that has Deen said? Why, that so far from cashiering the army we have in Thrace, it must be considerably reinforced and strengthened by new levies, in order that, as Philip has always one in readiness to oppress and enslave the Greeks, we, on our side, may always have one on foot to defend and preserve them." There is reason to believe Demosthenes's advice was followed. The same year that this oration was spoken,1 Arymbas, king of the Molossi or Epirus died. He was son of Alcetas, and had a brother called Neoptolemus, whose daughter Olympias was married to Philip. This Neoptolemus, by the influence and authority of his son-in-law, was raised so high as to share the regal power with his elder brother, to whom only it lawfully belonged. This first unjust action was followed by a greater. For after the death of Arymbas, Philip played his part so well, either by his intrigues or bis menaces, that the Molossians expelled acidas, son and lawful successor to Arymbas, and established Alexander, son of Neoptolemus, sole king of Epirus. This prince, who was not only brother-in-law, but son-in-law, to Philip, whose daughter Cleopatra he had married, as will be observed in the sequel, carried his arms into Italy, and there died. After this acidas re-ascended the throne of his ancestors, reigned alone in Epirus, and transmitted the crown to his son, the famous Pyrrhus (so celebrated in the Roman history,) and second cousin to Alexander the Great, Alcetas being grandfather to both those monarchs. Fhilip, after his expedition in Illyria and Thrace, turned his views towards Peloponnesus. Terrible commotions prevailed at that time in this part of Greece. Lacedæmonia assumed the sovereignty of it, with no other right than that of being the strongest. Argos and Messene being oppressed, had recourse to Philip. He had just before concluded a peace with the Athenians, who, on the faith of their orators that had been bribed by this prince, imagined he was going to break with the Thebans. However, so far from that, after having subdued Phocis, he divided the conquest with them. The Thebans embraced with joy the favourable opportunity which presented itself, of opening him a gate through which he might pass into Peloponnesus, in which country the inveterate hatred they bore to Sparta made them foment divisions perpetually, and continue the war. They therefore solicited Philip to join with them, the Messenians, and Argives, in order to humble in concert the power of Lacedæmonia. This prince readily came into an alliance which suited his views. He proposed to the Amphictyons, or rather dictated to them, the decree, which ordained that Lacedæmonia should permit Argos and Messene to enjoy an entire independence, pursuant to the tenor of a treaty lately concluded; and, upon pretence of not exposing the authority of the states-general of Greece, he ordered at the same time a large body of troops to march that way. Lacedæmonia, being justly alarmed, requested the Athenians to succour them; and by an embassy pressed earnestly for the concluding of such an alliance as their common safety might require. The several powers, whose interest it was to prevent this alliance from being concluded, used their utmost endeavours to gain their ends. Philip represented, by his ambassadors to the Athenians, that it would be very wrong in them to declare war against him; that if he did not break with the Thebans, his not doing so was no infraction of the treaties; that before he could have broken his word in this particular, he must first have given it; and that the treaties themselves proved manifestly that he had not made any promise to that purpose. Philip indeed said true, with regard to the written articles and the public stipulations; but Eschines had made this pro mise by word of mouth in his name. On the other side, the ambassadors of Thebes, of Argos and Messene, were also very urgent with the Athenians; and reproached them with having already secretly favoured the Lacedæmonians but too much, who were the professed enemies to the Thebans, and the tyrants of Peloponnesus. But Demosthenes, insensible to all these solicitations, and mindful of nothing but the real interests of his country, ascended the tribunal, in order to enforce the negotiation of the Lacedæmonians. He reproached the Athenians, according to his usual custom, with supineness and indolence. He exposes the ambitious designs of Philip, which he still pursues, and declares that they aim at no less than the conquest of all Greece. "You excel," says he to them, "both you and he, in that circumstance which is the object of your application and your cares. You speak better than he, and he acts better than you. The experience of the past ought at least to open your eyes, and make you more suspicious and circumspect with regard to him: but this serves no other purpose than to lull you asleep. At this time his troops are marching towards Peloponnesus; he is sending money to it, and his arrival in person, at the head of a powerful army, is expected every moment. Do you think that you will be secure, after he shall have possessed himself of the territories round you? Art has invented for the security of cities various methods of defence, as ramparts, walls, ditches, and the like works; but nature surrounds the wise with a common bulwark, which covers them on all sides, and provides for the security of states. What is this bulwark? It is distrust." He concludes with exhorting the Athenians to rouse from their lethargy; to send immediate succour to the Lacedæmonians; and, above all, to punish directly all such domestic traitors as have deceived the people, and brought their present calamities upon them, by spreading false reports, and employing captious assurances. The Athenians and Philip did not yet come to an open rupture; whence we may conjecture, that the latter delayed his invasion of Peloponnesus, in order that he might not have too many enemies upon his hands at the same time. However, he did not sit still, but turned his views another way. Philip had a long time considered Euboea as well calculated, from its situation, to favour the designs he meditated against Greece; and, in the very beginning of his reign, had attempted to possess himself of it. He indeed set every engine to work at that time, in order to seize upon that island, which he called the Shackles of Greece. But the Athenians, on the other side, were highly interested in not suffering it to fall into the hands of an enemy; especially as it might be joined to the continent of Attica by a bridge. However, according to the usual custom, they continued indelent whilst Philip pursued his conquests. The latter, who was continually attentive and vigilant over his interest, endeavoured to carry on an intelligence in the island, and by dint of presents bribed those who had the greatest authority in it. At the request of certain of the inhabitants, he sent some troops privately thither; possessed himself of several strong places; dismantled Porthmos, a very important fortress in Eu bœa, and established three tyrants or kings over the country. He also seized upon Oreum, one of the strongest cities of Euboea, of which it possessed the fourth part; and established five tyrants over it, who exercised an absolute authority there in his name. Upon this, Plutarch of Eretria sent a deputation to the Athenians, conjuring them to come and deliver that island, every part of which was upon the point of submitting entirely to the Macedonian. The Athenians upon this sent some troops under the command of PhoThat general had already acquired great repu cion. Philip. ii. tation, and will have, in the sequel, a great share in | forces they sent to the aid of Plutarch of Eretria. But the administration of affairs, both foreign and do- this traitor repaid his benefactors with ingratitude, set mestic. He had studied in the Academy under Plato, up the standard against them, and endeavoured openly and afterwards under Xenocrates, and in that school to repulse the very army he had requested. However, had formed his morals and his life, upon the model of Phocion was not at a loss how to act upon this unfore the most austere virtue. We are told that no Athe-seen perfidy; for he pursued his enterprise, won a batnian ever saw him laugh, weep, or go to the public tle, and drove Plutarch from Eretria. baths. Whenever he went into the country, or was in the army, he always walked barefoot, and without a cloak, unless the weather happened to be insupportably cold; so that the soldiers used to say, laughing, "See! Phocion has got his cloak on; it is a sign of a hard winter." He knew that eloquence is a necessary quality in a statesman, for enabling him to execute happily the great designs he may undertake during his administration. He therefore applied himself particularly to the attainment of it, and with great success. Persuaded that it is with words as with coins, of which the most esteemed are those that with less weight have most intrinsic value, Phocion had formed a lively, close, concise style, which expressed a great many ideas in few words. Appearing one day absent in an assembly, where he was preparing to speak, he was asked the reason of it: "I am considering," says he, "whether it is not possible for me to retrench some part of the discourse which I am to make." He was a strong reasoner, and by that means prevailed over the most sublime eloquence; which made Demosthenes, who had often experienced this, whenever he appeared to harangue the public, say, "There is the axe which cuts away the whole effect of my words." One would imagine that this kind of eloquence is absolutely contrary to the genius of the vulgar, who require the same things to be often repeated, and with greater extent, in order to their being more intelligible. But it was not so with the Athenians. Lively, penetrating, and lovers of a hidden sense, they valued themselves upon understanding an orator at half a word, and really understood him. Phocion adapted himself to their taste, and in this point surpassed even Demosthenes, which is saying a great deal. A. M. 3664. Ant. J. C. 340. After this great success, Phocion returned to Athens: but he was no sooner gone, than all the allies regretted the absense of his goodness and justice. Though the professed enemy of every kind of oppression and extortion, he knew how to insinuate himself into the minds of men with art; and at the same time that he made others fear him, he had the rare talent of making them love him still more. He one day made Chabrias a fine answer, who appointed him to go with ten light vessels to levy the tribute which certain cities, in alliance with Athens, paid every year. "To what purpose," says he, “is such a squadron? too strong, if I am only to visit allies; but too weak, if I am to fight enemies." The Athenians knew very well, by the consequences, the signal services which Phocion's great capacity, valour, and experience, had done them in the expedition of Euboea; for Molossus, who succeeded him, and who took upon himself the command of the troops after that general, was so unsuccessful, that he fell into the hands of the enemy. Philip, who did not lay aside the design he had formed of conquering all Greece, changed his plan of attack, and sought for an opportunity of distressing Athens another way. He knew that this city, from the barrenness of Attica, stood in greater want than any other of foreign corn. To dispose at his discretion of their supplies, and by that means starve Athens, he marches towards Thrace, from whence that city imported the greatest part of its provisions, with an intention to besiege Perinthus and Byzantium. To keep his kingdom in obedience during his absence, he left his son Alexander in it, with sovereign authority, though he was but fifteen years old. This young prince gave, even at that time, proofs of his courage; having defeated certain neighbouring states, subject to Macedonia, who had considered the king's absence as a very proper time for executing the design they had formed of revolting. This happy success of Alexander's first expeditions was highly agreeable to his father, and at the same time an earnest of what might be expected from him. But fearing lest, allured by this dangerous bait, he should abandon himself inconsiderately to his vivacity and fire, he sent for him in order to become his master, and train him under his own eye in the art of war. Phocion observing, that those persons, who at this time were concerned in the administration, had divided it into military and civil; that one part, as Eubulus, Aristophon, Demosthenes, Lycurgus, and Hyperides, confined themselves merely to haranguing the people and proposing decrees; that the other part, as Diopithes, Leosthenes, and Chares, advanced themselves by military employments; he chose rather to imitate the conduct of Solon, Aristides, and Pericles, who had known how to unite both talents, political science with military valour. Whilst he was in employment, peace and tranquillity were always his object, as being the Demosthenes still continued to exclaim against the end of every wise government; and yet he command- indolence of the Athenians, whom nothing could ed in more expeditions, not only than all the generals rouse from their lethargy; and also against the avarice of his time, but even than all his predecessors. He of the orators, who, bribed by Philip, amused the peowas honoured with the supreme command five-and-ple under the specious pretence of a peace which he forty times, without having once asked or made interest for it; and it was always in his absence that he was appointed to command the armies. The world was astonished, that, being of so severe a turn of mind, and so great an enemy to flattery of every kind, he should know how, in a manner, to fix in his own favour the natural levity and inconstancy of the Athenians, though he frequently used to oppose very strenuously their will and caprice, without regard to their captionsness and delicacy. The idea they had formed to themselves of his probity and zeal for the public good, extinguished every other sentiment; and that, according to Plutarch, was what generally made his eloquence so efficacious and triumphant. I thought it necessary to give the 1 Plutarch in Phoc. p. 743. 745. had sworn to, yet violated openly every day by the enterprises he formed against the commonwealth. This is the subject of his orations, called the Philippics. "Whence comes it," says he, "that all the Greeks formerly panted so strongly after liberty, and now run so eagerly into servitude? The reason is, because there prevailed at that time among the people, what prevails no longer among us; that which triumphed over the riches of the Persians; which maintained the freedom of Greece; which never acted inconsistently on any occasion either by sea or by land; but which being now extinguished in every heart, has entirely ruined our affairs, and utterly subverted the constitution of Greece. It is that common hatred, that general detestation, in which they held every person who had a soul abject enough to sell himself to any man who desired either to enslave or even corrupt Greece. In those times, to accept of a present was a capital crime, which never failed of being punished with death. Demost. pro Ctes. p. 486, 487. Neither their orators nor their generals exercised the scandalous traffic now become so common in Athens, where a price is set upon every thing, and where all things are sold to the highest bidder. "In these happy times, the Greeks lived in a perfect union, founded on the love of the public good, and the desire of preserving and defending the common liberty. But in this age, the states abandon one another, and give themselves up to reciprocal distrusts and jealousies. All of them, without exception, Argives, Thebans, Corinthians, Lacedæmonians Arcadians, and ourselves no less than others; all, all, I say, form a separate interest; and this it is that renders the common enemy so powerful. "The safety of Greece consists, therefore, in our uniting together against this common enemy, if that be possible. But at least, as to what concerns each of us in particular, this incontestable maxim should be deeply engraven in your minds, that Philip is actually attacking you at this time; that he has infringed the peace; that, by seizing upon all the fortresses around you, he opens and prepares the way for attacking you yourselves; and that he considers us as his mortal enemies, because he knows that we are the only persons capable of opposing the ambitious designs he entertains of grasping universal power. "These consequently we must oppose with all imaginable vigour; and for that purpose must ship off, without loss of time the necessary aids for the Chersonesus and Byzantium; you must provide instantly whatever necessaries your generals may require; in fine, you must concert together such means as are most proper to save Greece, which is now threatened with the utmost danger. Though all the rest of the Greeks should bow their necks to the yoke, yet you, O Athenians! ought to persist in fighting always for the cause of Liberty. After such preparations made in presence of all Greece, let us excite all other states to second us; let us acquaint every people with our resolutions, and send ambassadors to Peloponnesus, Rhodes, Chio, and especially to the king of Persia; for it is his interest, as well as ours, to check the career of that man." one side he shook the foundations of them by subter raneous mines; and on the other he beat down whole masses with his battering-rams; nor did the besieged make a less vigourous resistance; for as soon as one breach was made, Philip was surprised to see another wall behind it, just raised. The inhabitants of Byzantium sent them all the succours necessary. The Asiatic satrapæ, or governor, by the king of Persia's order, to whom we have seen the Athenians had applied for assistance, likewise threw forces into the place. Philip, in order to deprive the besieged of the succours the Byzantines gave them, went m person to form the siege of that important city, leaving half his army to carry on that of Perinthus. He was desirous to appear (in outward show) very tender of giving umbrage to the Athenians, whose power he dreaded, and whom he endeavoured to amuse by fine words. At the time we now speak of, Philip, by way of precaution against their disgust of his mea sures, wrote a letter to them, in which he endeavours to shake off the edge of their resentments, by reproaching them in the strongest terms for their infraction of the several treaties, which he boasts he had observed very religiously in this piece he interspersed very artfully (for he was a great master of eloquence) such complaints and menaces as are best calculated to restrain mankind, either from a principle of fear or shame. This letter is a masterpiece in the original. A majestic and persuasive vivacity shines in every part of it; a strength and justness of reasoning sustained through out; a plain and unaffected declaration of facts, each of which is followed by its natural consequence; a delicate irony; in fine, that noble and concise style which is so well suited to crowned heads. We might here very justly apply to Philip, what was said of Cæsar," That he handled the pen as well as he did the sword." This letter is so long, and, besides, is filled with so great a number of particular facts (though each of these are important,) that it will not admit of being reduced to extracts, or to have a connected abridg ment made of it. I shall therefore cite but one passage, by which the reader may form a judgment of the rest. The sequel will show, that Demosthenes's advice was followed almost exactly. At the time he was de- "At the time of our most open ruptures," says Philip claiming in this manner, Philip was marching towards to the Athenians, "you went no farther than to fit out the Chersonesus. He opened the campaign with the privateers against me; to seize and sell the merchants siege of Perinthus, a considerable city of Thrace. that came to trade in my dominions; to favour any The Athenians having prepared a body of troops to party that opposed my measures; and to infest the succour that place, the orators prevailed so far by places subject to me by your hostilities: but now you their speeches, that Chares was appointed comman- carry hatred and injustice to such prodigious lengths, der of the fleet. This general was universally de- as even to send ambassadors to the Persian, in order spised, for his manners, rapine, and mean capacity; to excite him to declare war against me. This must but intrigues and influence supplied the place of merit appear a most astonishing circumstance; for before he on this occasion, and faction prevailed over the coun- had made himself master of Egypt and Phoenicia, you sels of the most prudent aud virtuous men, as happens had resolved, in the most solemn manner, that in case but too often. The success answered the rashness of he should attempt any new enterprise, you then would the choice which had been made: but what could be invite me, in common with the rest of the Greeks, to expected from a general whose abilities were as small unite our forces against him: and, nevertheless, at this as his voluptuousness was great; who took along time you carry your hatred to such a height as to newith him, in his military expeditions, a band of musi-gotiate an alliance with him against me. I have been cians, both vocal and instrumental, who were in his pay, and whose salary was defrayed out of the moneys appointed for the service of the fleet! In short, the cities themselves, to whose succour he was sent, would not suffer him to come into their harbours; so that his fidelity being universally suspected, he was obliged to sail from coast to coast, ransoming the allies, and contemned by the enemy. In the mean time," Philip was carrying on the siege of Perinthus, with great vigour. He had 30,000 chosen troops, and military engines of all kinds without number. He had raised towers eighty cubits high, which far out-topped those of the Perinthians. He therefore had a great advantage in battering their walls. On told, that formerly your fathers imputed to the son of Pisistratus, as an unpardonable crime, his having requested the succour of the Persians against the Greeks; and yet you do not blush to commit yourselves what you were perpetually condemning in the person of your tyrants." Philip's letter did him as much service as a good manifesto, and gave his pensioners in Athens a fine opportunity of justifying him to people who were very desirous of easing themselves of political inquietudes, and greater enemies to expense and labour, than to usurpation and tyranny. The boundless ambition of Philip and the eloquent zeal of Demosthenes were perpetually clashing. There was neither a peace nor a truce between them. The one covered very industriously, with a specious pretence, his enterprises and Eodem animo dixit, quo bellavit, Quintil. 1 x. c. 1. |