The successes of Thebes revived the jealousy and distrust of Athens, which concluded a peace with Sparta, and subsequently formed an alliance with her. But the Thebans continued to be successful, and at Teg'yra Pelopidas defeated a greatly superior force and killed the two Spartan generals; while at Leuc'tra Epaminondas, with a force of six thousand Thebans, defeated the Lacedaemonian army of more than double that number (371 B.C.). Leuctra has been called "the Marathon of the Thebans," as their defensive war was turned by it into a war of conquest. Aided now by the Arca'dians, Ar'gives, and E'leans, Epaminondas invaded Laconia, appearing before the gates of Sparta, where a hostile force had not been seen in five hundred years; but he made no attempt upon the city, and, after laying waste with fire and sword the valley of the Euro'tas, he retraced his steps to the frontiers of Arcadia. Another expedition was undertaken against the Peloponnesus in 367 B.C., and the cities of Achaia immediately submitted, becoming the allies of Thebes. In 362 the Peloponnesus was invaded for the last time, and at Mantinea Epaminondas defeated the Spartans in the most sanguinary contest ever fought among Grecians; but he fell in the moment of victory, and the glory of Thebes departed with him. Before his death, having been told that those whom he intended to be his successors in command had been slain, he directed the Thebans to make peace. His advice was followed, and a general peace was soon after established, on the condition that each state should retain its respective possessions.



CHAPTER XIV.

THE SICILIAN GREEKS.

Before proceeding to the history of the downfall of Greece, and her subjugation by a foreign power—a result that soon followed the events just narrated—we turn aside to notice the affairs of the Sicilian Greeks, as more especially presented in the history of Syracuse, in all respects the strongest and most prominent of the Sicilian cities.

HIERO.

On the death of Ge'lon, despot of Syracuse, a year after the battle of Him'era, the government fell into the hands of his brother Hi'ero, a man of great energy and determination. He founded the city of AEtna, of which PINDAR says:

That city, founded strong In liberty divine, Measured by the Spartan line, Has Hiero 'stablish'd for his heritage; To whose firm-planted colony belong Their mother-country's laws, From many a distant age.

He also added many cities to his government, and his power was not inferior to that of Gelon. The city of Cu'mae, on the Italian coast, being harassed by the Carthaginians, the aid of Hiero was solicited by its citizens, and he sent a fleet which severely defeated and almost destroyed the squadron of their enemies. Says PINDAR of this event:

That leader of the Syracusan host, With gallies swiftly-rushing, them pursued; And they his onset rued, When on the Cuman coast He dashed their youth in gulfy waves below, And rescued Greece from heavy servitude.

Hiero was likewise a liberal patron of literature and the arts, inviting to his court many of the eminent poets and philosophers of his time, including Pindar, Simon'ides, Epichar'mus, AEs'chylus, and others; but his many great and noble qualities were alloyed by insatiable cupidity and ambition, and he became noted for "his cruel and rapacious government, and as the organizer of that systematic espionage which broke up all freedom of speech among his subjects." Although the eminent men who visited his court have much to say in praise of Hiero, Pindar, especially, was too honest and independent to ignore his faults. As GROTE says, "Pindar's indirect admonitions and hints sufficiently attest the real character of Hiero." Of these, the following lines from the Pythian ode may be taken as a sample:

The lightest word that falls from thee, O King! Becomes a mighty and momentous thing: O'er many placed as arbiter on high, Many thy goings watchful see. Thy ways on every side A host of faithful witnesses descry; Then let thy liberal temper be thy guide. If ever to thine ear Fame's softest whisper yet was dear, Stint not thy bounty's flowing tide: Stand at the helm of state; full to the gale Spread thy wind-gathering sail. Friend! let not plausive avarice spread Its lures, to tempt thee from the path of fame: For know, the glory of a name Follows the mighty dead. —Trans. by ELTON.

Hiero was succeeded on his death, in 467 B.C., by his brother Thrasybu'lus; but the latter's tyranny caused a popular revolt, and after being defeated in a battle with his subjects he was expelled from the country. His expulsion was followed by the extinction of the Gelonian dynasty at Syracuse, and the institution of a popular government there and in other Sicilian cities. These free governments, however, gave rise to internal revolts and wars that continued many months; and finally a general congress of the different cities was held, which succeeded in adjusting the difficulties that had disturbed the peace of all Sicily. The various cities now became independent—though it is probable that the governments of all of them continued to be more or less disturbed—and were soon distinguished for their material and intellectual prosperity. Syracuse maintained herself as the first city in power; and in this condition of prosperity the Sicilian cities were found at the breaking out of the Peloponnesian war.

DIONYESIUS THE ELDER.

Of the Athenian league and expedition against Syracuse we have already given some account. Soon after the termination of this contest the Constitution of Syracuse was rendered still more democratic by the adoption of a new code of laws, prepared by Di'ocles, an eminent citizen, who became the director of the government. But the Carthaginians now again invaded Sicily, and established themselves over its entire western half. Taking advantage of the popular alarm at these aggressions, and of the ill success of Diocles and the Syracusan generals in opposing them, Diony'sius the Elder, then a young man, of low birth, but brave, determined, and talented, having been raised by popular favor to the generalship of the Syracusan army, subsequently made himself despot of the city (405 B.C.). Dionysius ruled vigorously, but with extreme tyranny, for thirty-eight years. By the year 384 he had extended his power over nearly all Sicily and a part of Magna Grecia, and under his sway Syracuse became one of the most powerful empires on earth. PLUTARCH relates that Dionysius boasted that he bequeathed to his son an empire "fastened by chains of adamant." Like Hiero, Dionysius was a lover of literature, and sought to gain distinction by his poetical compositions, some of which won prizes at Athens. He also invited Plato to his court; but the philosopher's moral conversations were distasteful to the tyrant, who finally sold him into slavery, from which he was redeemed by a friend.

It was during the reign of Dionysius the Elder that occurred that memorable incident in the lives of Damon and Pythias by which Dionysius himself is best remembered, and which has passed into history as illustrative of the truest and noblest friendship. Damon and Pythias were distinguished Syracusans, and both were Pythagore'ans. Pythias, a strong republican, having been seized for calling Dionysius a tyrant, and being condemned to death for attempting to stab him, requested a brief respite in order to arrange his affairs, promising to procure a friend to take his place and suffer death if he should not return. Damon gave himself up as surety, and Pythias was allowed to depart. Just as Damon was about to be led to execution, Pythias, who had been detained by unforeseen circumstances, returned to accept his fate and save his friend. Dionysius was so struck by these proofs of virtue and magnanimity on the part of the two friends that he set both of them free, and requested to be admitted into their friendship. The subject has been repeatedly dramatized, and has formed the theme of numerous separate poems. Schiller has a ballad on the subject; but he amplifies the incidents of the original story, and substitutes other names in place of Damon and Pythias. The following are the first three and the last three verses from SCHILLER:

The Hostage.

The tyrant Di'onys to seek, Stern Moe'rus with his poniard crept; The watchful guards upon him swept; The grim King marked his changeless cheek: "What wouldst thou with thy poniard? Speak!" "The city from the tyrant free!" "The death-cross shall thy guerdon be."

"I am prepared for death, nor pray," Replied that haughty man, "to live; Enough if thou one grace wilt give: For three brief suns the death delay, To wed my sister—leagues away; I boast one friend whose life for mine, If I should fail the cross, is thine."

The tyrant mused, and smiled, and said, With gloomy craft, "So let it be; Three days I will vouchsafe to thee. But mark—if, when the time be sped, Thou fail'st, thy surety dies instead.

His life shall buy thine own release; Thy guilt atoned, my wrath shall cease."

* * * * *

The sun sinks down—the gate's in view, The cross looms dismal on the ground— The eager crowd gape murmuring round. His friend is bound the cross unto. Crowd—guards—all—bursts he through; "Me! Doomsman, me," he shouts, "alone! His life is rescued—lo, mine own!"

Amazement seized the circling ring! Linked in each other's arms the pair— Weeping for joy, yet anguish there! Moist every eye that gazed: they bring The wondrous tidings to the King— His breast man's heart at last hath known, And the Friends stand before his throne.

Long silent he, and wondering long, Gazed on the pair. "In peace depart, Victors, ye have subdued my heart! Truth is no dream! its power is strong. Give grace to him who owns his wrong! 'Tis mine your suppliant now to be: Ah, let the band of Love—be THREE!" —Trans. by BULWER.

Dionysius the Younger succeeded to the government of Syracuse in 367, but he was incompetent to the task; and his tyranny and debauchery brought about his temporary overthrow, ten years later, by Dion, his father's brother-in-law. Dion had enjoyed unusual favors under Dionysius the Elder, and was now a man of wealth and high position, as well as of great energy and marked mental capacities. For his talents he was largely indebted to Plato, under whose teachings he became imbued "with that sense of regulated polity, and submission of individual will to fixed laws, which floated in the atmosphere of Grecian talk and literature, and stood so high in Grecian morality." In one of his letters Plato says, "When I explained the principles of philosophy and humanity to Dion, I little thought that I was insensibly opening a way to the subversion of tyranny!"

Long before the death of Dionysius the Elder, Dion had conceived the idea of liberating Syracuse from despotism and establishing an improved constitutional policy, originated by himself; and, on becoming the chief adviser of the young Dionysius, he tried to convince the latter of the necessity of reforming himself and his government. Although at first favorably impressed with the plans of Dion, the young monarch subsequently became jealous of his adviser and expelled him from the country. Gathering a few troops from various quarters, Dion returned to Sicily ten years after, and, aided by a revolt in Syracuse, he soon made himself master of the city. Dionysius had meanwhile retired to Ortyg'ia, and soon left Sicily for Italy. But the success of Dion was short-lived. "Too good for a despot, and yet unfit for a popular leader, he could not remain long in the precarious position he occupied." Both his dictatorship and his life came to an end in 354. He became the victim of a conspiracy originating with his most intimate friend, and was assassinated in his own dwelling.

Dionysius soon after returned to Syracuse, from the government of which he was finally expelled by Timo'leon, a Corinthian, who had been sent from Corinth, at the request of some exiled Syracusans, to the relief of their native city (343 B.C.). Timoleon made himself master of the almost deserted Syracuse, restored it to some degree of its former glory, checked the aspiring power of Carthage by defeating one of its largest armies, crushed the petty despots of Sicily, and restored nearly the whole island to a state of liberty and order. The restoration of liberty to Syracuse by Timoleon was followed by many years of unexampled prosperity. Having achieved the purpose with which he left Corinth, Timoleon at once resigned his command and became a private citizen of Syracuse. But he became the adviser of the Syracusans in their government, and the arbitrator of their differences, enjoying to a good age "what Xenophon calls 'that good, not human, but divine command over willing men, given manifestly to persons of genuine and highly-trained temperance of character.'"

HIERO II.

In 317, Agath'ocles, a bold adventurer of Syracuse, usurped its authority by the murder of several thousand citizens, and for twenty-eight years maintained his power, extending his dominion over a large portion of Sicily, and even gaining successes in Africa. After his death, in 289, successive tyrants ruled, until, in 270, Hiero II., a descendant of Gelon, and commander of the Syracusan army, obtained the supreme power. Meantime the Carthaginians had gained a decided ascendancy in Sicily, and in 265 the Romans, alarmed by the movements of so powerful a neighbor, and being invited to Sicily to assist a portion of the people of Messa'na, commenced what is known in history as the first Punic war. Hiero allied himself with the Carthaginians, and the combined armies proceeded to lay siege to Messana; but they were attacked and defeated by Ap'pius Clau'dius, the Roman consul, and Hiero, panic-stricken, fled to Syracuse. Seeing his territory laid waste by the Romans, he prudently made a treaty with them, in 263. He remained their steadfast ally; and when the Romans became sole masters of Sicily they gave him the government of a large part of the island. His administration was mild, yet firm and judicious, lasting in all fifty-four years. With him ended the prosperity and independence of Syracuse.

ARCHIME'DES.

It was during the reign of Hiero II. that Archimedes, a native of Syracuse, and a supposed distant relation of the king, made the scientific discoveries and inventions that have secured for him the honor of being the most celebrated mathematician of antiquity. He was equally skilled in astronomy, geometry, mechanics, hydrostatics, and optics. His discovery of the principle of specific gravity is related in the following well-known story: Hiero, suspecting that his golden crown had been fraudulently alloyed with silver, put it into the hands of Archimedes for examination. The latter, entering a bath-tub one day, and noticing that he displaced a quantity of water equal in bulk to that of his body, saw that this discovery would give him a mode of determining the bulk and specific gravity of King Hiero's crown. Leaping out of the tub in his delight, he ran home, crying, "Eure'ka! eureka!" I have found it! I have found it!

To show Hiero the wonderful effects of mechanical power, Archimedes is said to have drawn some distance toward him, by the use of ropes and pulleys, a large galley that lay on the shore; and during the siege of his native city by the Romans, his great mechanical skill was displayed in the invention and manufacture of stupendous engines of defence. Later historians than Polybius, Livy, and Plutarch say that on this occasion, also, he burnt many Roman ships by concentrating upon them the sun's rays from numerous mirrors. SCHILLER gives the following poetic account of a visit, to Archimedes, by a young scholar who asked to be taught the art that had won the great master's fame:

To Archimedes once a scholar came: "Teach me;" he said, "the Art that won thy fame; The godlike Art which gives such boons to toil, And showers such fruit upon thy native soil; The godlike Art that girt the town when all Rome's vengeance burst in thunder on the wall!" "Thou call'st Art godlike—it is so, in truth, And was," replied the master to the youth, "Ere yet its secrets were applied to use— Ere yet it served beleaguered Syracuse. Ask'st thou from Art but what the Art is worth? The fruit? For fruit go cultivate the Earth. He who the goddess would aspire unto Must not the goddess as the woman woo!" —Trans. by BULWER.

Among the discoveries of Archimedes was that of the ratio between the cylinder and the inscribed sphere, and he requested his friends to place the figures of a sphere and cylinder on his tomb. This was done, and, one hundred and thirty-six years after, it enabled Cicero, the Roman orator, to find the resting-place of the illustrious inventor. The story of his visit to Syracuse, and his search for the tomb of Archimedes, is told by the HON. R C. WINTHROP in a lecture entitled Archimedes and Franklin, from which we quote as follows:

Visit of Cicero to the Grave of Archimedes.

"While Cicero was quaestor in Sicily—the first public office which he ever held, and the only one to which he was then eligible, being but just thirty years old—he paid a visit to Syracuse, then among the greatest cities of the world. The magistrates of the city of course waited on him at once, to offer their services in showing him the lions of the place, and requested him to specify anything which he would like particularly to see. Doubtless they supposed that he would ask immediately to be conducted to some one of their magnificent temples, that he might behold and admire those splendid works of art with which —notwithstanding that Marcellus had made it his glory to carry not a few of them away with him for the decoration of the Imperial City—Syracuse still abounded, and which soon after tempted the cupidity, and fell a prey to the rapacity, of the infamous Verres.

"Or, haply, they may have thought that he would be curious to see and examine the Ear of Dionysius, as it was called—a huge cavern, cut out of the solid rock in the shape of a human ear, two hundred and fifty feet long and eighty feet high, in which that execrable tyrant confined all persons who came within the range of his suspicion, and which was so ingeniously contrived and constructed that Dionysius, by applying his ear to a small hole, where the sounds were collected as upon a tympanum, could catch every syllable that was uttered in the cavern below, and could deal out his proscription and his vengeance accordingly upon all who might dare to dispute his authority or to complain of his cruelty. Or they may have imagined, perhaps, that he would be impatient to visit at once the sacred fountain of Arethusa; and the seat of those Sicilian Muses whom Virgil so soon after invoked in commencing that most inspired of all uninspired compositions, which Pope has so nobly paraphrased in his glowing and glorious Eclogue—the 'Messiah.'

"To their great astonishment, however, Cicero's first request was that they would take him to see the tomb of Archimedes. To his own still greater astonishment, as we may well believe, they told him in reply that they knew nothing about the tomb of Archimedes, and had no idea where it was to be found, and they even denied that any such tomb was still remaining among them. But Cicero understood perfectly well what he was talking about. He remembered the exact description of the tomb. He remembered the very verses which had been inscribed on it. He remembered the sphere and the cylinder which Archimedes had himself requested to have wrought upon it, as the chosen emblems of his eventful life. And the great orator forthwith resolved to make search for it himself. Accordingly, he rambled out into the place of their ancient sepulchres, and, after a careful investigation, he came at last to a spot overgrown with shrubs and bushes, where presently he descried the top of a small column just rising above the branches. Upon this little column the sphere and the cylinder were at length found carved, the inscription was painfully deciphered, and the tomb of Archimedes stood revealed to the reverent homage of the illustrious Roman quaestor.

"This was in the year 76 before the birth of our Savior. Archimedes died about the year 212 before Christ. One hundred and thirty six years only had thus elapsed since the death of this celebrated person, before his tombstone was buried beneath briers and brambles; and before the place and even the existence of it were forgotten by the magistrates of the very city of which he was so long the proudest ornament in peace, and the most effective defender in war. What a lesson to human pride, what a commentary on human gratitude was here! It is an incident almost precisely like that which the admirable and venerable DR. WATTS imagined or imitated, as the topic of one of his most striking and familiar Lyrics:

"'Theron, among his travels, found A broken statue on the ground; And searching onward as he went, He traced a ruined monument. Mould, moss, and shades had overgrown The sculpture of the crumbling stone; Yet ere he passed, with much ado, He guessed and spelled out, Sci-pi-o. "Enough," he cried; "I'll drudge no more In turning the dull Stoics o'er;

* * * * *

For when I feel my virtue fail, And my ambitious thoughts prevail, I'll take a turn among the tombs, And see whereto all glory comes."

I do not learn, however, that Cicero was cured of his eager vanity and his insatiate love of fame by this "turn" among the Syracusan tombs. He was then only just at the threshold of his proud career, and he went back to pursue it to its bloody end with unabated zeal, and with an ambition only extinguishable with his life.'"



CHAPTER XV.

THE MACEDONIAN SUPREMACY.

I. THE SACRED WAR.

Four years after the battle of Mantine'a the Grecian states again became involved in domestic hostilities, known as the Sacred War, the second in Grecian history to which that title was applied, the first having been carried on against the inhabitants of Crissa, on the northern shore of the Corinthian Gulf, in the time of Solon. The causes of this second Sacred War were briefly these: The Pho'cians, allies of Sparta against Thebes, had taken into cultivation a portion of the plain of Delphos, sacred to Apollo; and the Thebans caused them to be accused of sacrilege before the Amphictyonic Council, which condemned them to pay a heavy fine. The Phocians refused obedience, and, encouraged by the Spartans, on whom a similar penalty had been imposed for their wrongful occupation of the Theban capital, they took up arms to resist the decree, and plundered the sacred Temple of Delphos to obtain means for carrying on the war.

The Thebans, Thessa'lians, and nearly all the states of northern Greece leagued against the Phocians, while Athens and Sparta declared in their favor. After the war had continued five years a new power was brought forward on the theatre of Grecian history, in the person of Philip, who had recently established himself on the throne of Mac'edon, and to whom some of the Thessalians applied for aid against the Phocians. The interference of Philip forms an important epoch in Grecian affairs. "The most desirable of all conditions for Greece would have been," says THIRLWALL, "to be united in a confederacy strong enough to prevent intestine warfare among its members, and so constituted as to guard against all unnecessary encroachment on their independence. But the time had passed by when the supremacy of any state could either have been willingly acknowledged by the rest, or imposed upon them by force; and the hope of any favorable change in the general condition of Greece was now become fainter than ever." Wasted by her internal dissensions, Greece was now about to suffer their natural results, and we interrupt our narrative to briefly trace the growth of that foreign power which, unexpectedly to Greece, became its master.

* * * * *

II. SKETCH OF MACEDONIA.

Macedon—or Macedo'nia—whose boundaries varied greatly at different times, had its south-eastern borders on the AEgean Sea, while farther north it was bounded by the river Strymon, which separated it from Thrace, and on the south by Thessaly and Epirus. On the west Macedonia embraced, at times, many of the Illyrian tribes which bordered on the Adriatic. On the north the natural boundary was the mountain chain of Hae'mus. The principal river of Macedonia was the Ax'ius (now the Vardar), which fell into the Thermaic Gulf, now called the Gulf of Salonica.

The history of Macedonia down to the time of Philip, the father of Alexander the Great, is involved in much obscurity. The early Macedonians appear to have been an Illyrian tribe, different in race and language from the Hellenes or Greeks; but Herodotus states that the Macedonian monarchy was founded by Greeks from Argos; and, according to Greek writers, twelve or fifteen Grecian princes reigned there before the accession of Philip, who took charge of the government about the year 360 B.C., not as monarch, but as guardian of the infant son of his elder brother.

Philip had previously passed several years at Thebes as a hostage, where he eagerly availed himself of the excellent opportunities which that city afforded for the acquisition of various kinds of knowledge. He successfully cultivated the study of the Greek language; and in the society of such generals and statesmen as Epaminondas, Pelopidas, and their friends, became acquainted with the details of the military tactics of the Greeks, and learned the nature and working of their democratical institutions. Thus, with the superior mental and physical endowments which nature had given him, he became eminently fitted for the part which he afterward bore in the intricate game of Grecian politics.

After Philip had successfully defended the throne of Macedon during several years, in behalf of his nephew, his military successes enabled him to assume the kingly title, probably with the unanimous consent of both the army and the nation. He annexed several Thracian towns to his dominions, reduced the Illyrians and other nations on his northern and western borders, and was at times an ally, and at others an enemy, of Athens. At length, during the Sacred War against the Phocians, the invitation which he received from the Thessalian allies of Thebes, as already noticed, afforded him a pretext, which he had long coveted, for a more active interference in the affairs of his southern neighbors.

* * * * *

III. INTERFERENCE OF PHILIP OF MACEDON.

Of all the Grecian states, Athens alone had succeeded in regaining some of her former power, and she now became the leader in the struggle with Macedonia. In response to the invitation extended to him, Philip entered Thessaly on his southern march, but was at first repulsed by the Phocians and their allies, and obliged to retire to his own territory. He soon returned, however, at the head of a more numerous army, defeated the enemy in a decisive engagement near the Gulf of Pag'asae, and would have marched upon Phocis at once to terminate the war, but he found the Pass of Thermopylae strongly guarded by the Athenians, and thought it prudent to withdraw his forces.

The Sacred War still lingered, although the Phocians desired peace; but the revengeful spirit of the Thebans was not allayed, and Philip was again urged to crush the profaners of the national religion. It was at this period that the great Athenian orator, Demosthenes, came forward with the first of those orations against Philip and his supposed policy, which, from their subject, received the name of "the Philippics"—a title since commonly given to any discourse or declamation abounding in acrimonious invective. The penetration of Demosthenes enabled him easily to divine the ambitious plans of Philip, and as he considered him the enemy of the liberties of Athens and of Greece, he sought to rouse his countrymen against him. His discourse was essentially practical. As a writer has said, "He alarms, but encourages his countrymen; Points out both their weakness and their strength; rouses them to a sense of danger, and shows the way to meet it; recommends not any extraordinary efforts, for which at this moment there was no urgent necessity, but unfolds a scheme, simple and feasible, suiting the occasion, and calculated to lay the foundation of better things."

In the following language he censures the indolence and supineness of the Athenians:

The First Philippic of Demosthenes.

"When, O my countrymen I will you exert your vigor? When roused by some event? When forced by some necessity? What, then, are we to think of our present condition? To freemen, the disgrace attending our misconduct is, in my opinion, the most urgent necessity. Or, say, is it your sole ambition to wander through the public places, each inquiring of the other, 'What new advices?' Can anything be more new than that a man of Macedon should conquer the Athenians and give law to Greece? 'Is Philip dead? No, but he is sick.' [Footnote: Philip had received a severe wound, which was followed by a fit of sickness; hence these rumors and inquiries of the Athenians. "Longinus quotes this whole passage as a beautiful instance of those pathetic figures which give life and force and energy to an oration."] How are you concerned in these rumors? Suppose he should meet some fatal stroke; you would soon raise up another Philip, if your interests are thus regarded. For it is not to his own strength that he so much owes his elevation as to our supineness. And should some accident affect him—should Fortune, who hath ever been more careful of the state than we ourselves, now repeat her favors (and may she thus crown them!) —be assured of this, that by being on the spot, ready to take advantage of the confusion, you will everywhere be absolute masters; but in your present disposition, even if a favorable juncture should present you with Amphip'olis, [Footnote: Amphipolis, a city of Thrace founded by the Athenians, had fallen into the hands of Philip after a siege, and the Athenians had nothing more at heart than its recovery.] you could not take possession of it while this suspense prevails in your councils.

"Some of you wander about crying, 'Philip hath joined with the Lacedaemonians, and they are concerting the destruction of Thebes, and the dissolution of some free states.' Others assure us that he has sent an embassy to the king; [Footnote: The King of Persia, generally called "the king" by the Greeks.] others, that he is fortifying places in Illyria. Thus we all go about framing our several stories. I do believe, indeed, Athenians, that he is intoxicated with his greatness, and does entertain his imagination with many such visionary prospects, as he sees no power rising to oppose him, and is elated with his success. But I cannot be persuaded that he hath so taken his measures that the weakest among us know what he is next to do—for the silliest are those who spread these rumors. Let us dismiss such talk, and remember only that Philip is our enemy—that he has spoiled us of our dominions, that we have long been subject to his insolence, that whatever we expected to be done for us by others has proved against us, that all the resource left us is in ourselves, and that, if we are not inclined to carry our arms abroad, we may be forced to engage at home. Let us be persuaded of this, and then we shall come to a proper determination; then we shall be freed from idle conjectures. We need not be solicitous to know what particular events will happen; we need but be convinced that nothing good can happen unless you attend to your duty, and are willing to act as becomes you.

"As for me, never have I courted favor by speaking what I am not convinced is for your good; and now I have spoken my whole mind frankly and unreservedly. I could have wished, knowing the advantage of good counsel to you, that I were equally certain of its advantage to the counselor; so should I have spoken with more satisfaction. Now, with an uncertainty of the consequence to myself, but with a conviction that you will benefit by following my advice, I freely proffer it. And, of all those opinions which are offered for your acceptance, may that be chosen which will best advance the general weal." —LELAND'S trans.

The most prominent of the particular acts specified by Demosthenes as indispensable to the Athenian welfare, were the fitting out of a fleet of fifty vessels, to be kept ready to sail, at a moment's notice, to any exposed portion of the Athenian sea-coast; and the establishment of a permanent land force of twenty-two hundred men, one-fourth to be citizens of Athens. The expense was to be met by taxation, a system of which he also presented for adoption. MR. GROTE says of the first Philippic of Demosthenes:

"It is not merely a splendid piece of oratory, emphatic and forcible in its appeal to the emotions; bringing the audience, by many different roads, to the main conviction which the orator seeks to impress; profoundly animated with genuine Pan-hellenic patriotism, and with the dignity of that pre-Grecian world now threatened by a monarch from without. It has other merits besides, not less important in themselves, and lying more immediately within the scope of the historian. We find Demosthenes, yet only thirty years old—young in political life—and thirteen years before the battle of Chaerone'a, taking accurate measure of the political relations between Athens and Philip; examining those relations during the past, pointing out how they had become every year more unfavorable, and foretelling the dangerous contingencies of the future, unless better precautions were taken; exposing with courageous frankness not only the past mismanagement of public men, but also those defective dispositions of the people themselves wherein such mismanagement had its root; lastly, after fault found, adventuring on his own responsibility to propose specific measures of correction, and urging upon reluctant citizens a painful imposition of personal hardship as well as of taxation."

Of course Demosthenes and his policy were opposed by a strong party, and his warnings and exhortations produced but little effect. The latter result was largely due to the position of the Athenian general and statesman Pho'cion—the last Athenian in whom these two functions were united—who generally acted with the peace-party. Unlike many prominent members of that party, however, Phocion was pure and patriotic in his motives, and a man of the strictest integrity. It was his unquestioned probity and his peculiar disinterestedness that gave him such influence with the people. As an orator, too, he commanded attention by his striking and pithy brevity. "He knew so well," says GROTE, "on what points to strike, that his telling brevity, strengthened by the weight of character and position, cut through the fine oratory of Demosthenes more effectively than any counter oratory from men like AEsehines." Demosthenes was once heard to remark, on seeing Phocion rise to speak, "Here comes the pruner of my periods."

As MR. GROTE elsewhere adds: "The influence of Phocion as a public adviser was eminently mischievous to Athens. All depended upon her will; upon the question whether her citizens were prepared in their own minds to incur the expense and fatigue of a vigorous foreign policy—whether they would handle their pikes, open their purses, and forego the comforts of home, for the maintenance of Grecian and Athenian liberty against a growing but not as yet irresistible destroyer. Now, it was precisely at such a moment, and when such a question was pending, that the influence of the peace-loving Phocion was most ruinous. His anxiety that the citizens should be buried at home in their own sepulchres—his despair, mingled with contempt, of his countrymen and their refined habits—his hatred of the orators who might profit by an increased war expenditure—all contributed to make him discourage public effort, and await passively the preponderance of the Macedonian arms; thus playing the game of Philip, and siding, though himself incorruptible, with the orators in Philip's pay." [Footnote: "History of Greece," vol. xi., p. 278.]

As no measures of importance were taken to check the growing power of Philip, in the year 349 he attacked the Olynthians, who were in alliance with Athens. They sent embassies to Athens, seeking aid, and Demosthenes supported their cause in the three "Olynthiac Orations," which roused the Athenians to more vigorous efforts. But the latter were divided in their counsels, and the aid they gave the Olynthians was inefficient. In 347 Olynthus fell into the hands of Philip, who, having somewhat lulled the suspicions of the Athenians by proposals of an advantageous peace, marched into Phocis in 346, and compelled the enemy to surrender at discretion. The Amphictyonic Council, with the power of Philip to enforce its decrees, doomed Phocis to lose her independence forever, to have her cities leveled with the ground, her population to be distributed in villages of not more than fifty dwellings, and to pay a yearly tribute of sixty talents to the temple until the full amount of the plundered treasure should be restored. Finally, the two votes that the Phocians had possessed in the council were transferred to the King of Macedon and his successors.

* * * * *

IV. WAR WITH MACEDON.

From an early period of his career Philip had aspired to the sovereignty of all Greece, as a secondary object that should prepare the way for the conquest of Persia, the great aim and end of all his ambitious projects. The accession of power he had just acquired now induced him to exert himself, by negotiation and conquest, to extend his influence on every side of his dominions. Demosthenes had been sent by the Athenians into the Peloponnesus to counteract the intrigues of Philip there, and had openly accused him of perfidy. To repel this charge, as well as to secure farther influence, if possible, Philip sent an embassy to Athens, headed by the orator Py'thon. It was on this occasion that Demosthenes delivered his second "Philippic" (344 B.C.), addressing himself principally to the Athenian sympathizers with Philip, of whom the orator AEsehines was the leader.

In his military operations Philip ravaged Illyria, reduced Thessaly more nearly to a Macedonian province, conquered a part of the Thracian territory, extended his power into Epi'rus and Acarna'nia, and would have gained a footing in E'lis and Acha'ia, on the western coast of Peloponnesus, had it not been for the watchful jealousy of Athens which Demosthenes finally succeeded in arousing. The first open rupture with the Athenians occurred while Philip was subduing the Grecian cities on the Thracian coast of the Hellespont, in what was called the Thracian Chersone'sus. As yet Macedon and Athens were nominally at peace, and Philip complained that the Athenians were attempting to precipitate a conflict. He sent an embassy to Athens, which gave occasion to the speech of Demosthenes, "On the Chersonese" (341 B.C.). The rupture in the Chersonesus was followed by Athenian successes in Euboe'a, whither Demosthenes had succeeded in having an expedition sent, and, finally, by the expulsion of Philip's forces from the Chersonesus. Soon after this (339 B.C.) the Amphictyonic Council, through the influence of the orator AEsehines, appointed Phillip to conduct a war against Amphis'sa, a Lo'crian town, that had been convicted of a sacrilege similar to that of the Phocians.

THE SUCCESSES AND DEATH OF PHILIP.

It was now that Philip first threw off the mask, and revealed his designs against the liberties of Greece. Hastily passing through Thrace at the head of a powerful army, he suddenly seized and commenced fortifying Elate'a, the capital of Phocis, which was conveniently situated for commanding the entrance into Boeotia. Intelligence of this event reached Athens at night, and caused great alarm. At daybreak on the following morning the Senate of Five Hundred met, and the people assembled in the Pnyx. Suddenly waking, at last, from their dream of security, from which all the eloquent appeals of Demosthenes had hitherto been unable fully to arouse them, the Athenians began to realize their danger. At the instance of the great orator they formed a treaty with the Thebans, and the two states prepared to defend themselves from invasion; but most of the Peloponnesian states kept aloof through indifference, rather than through fear.

When the Athenian and Theban forces marched forth to give Philip battle, dissensions pervaded their ranks; for the spirit of Grecian liberty had already been extinguished. They gained a minor advantage, however, in two engagements that followed; but the decisive battle was fought in August of the year 338, in the plain of Chaerone'a, in Boeotia. The hostile armies were nearly equal in numbers; but there was no Pericles, or Epaminondas, to match the warlike abilities of Philip and the young prince Alexander, the latter of whom commanded a wing of the Macedonian army. The Grecian army was completely routed, and the event broke up the feeble combination against Philip, leaving each of the allied states at his mercy. He treated the Thebans with much severity, but he exercised a degree of leniency toward the Athenians which excited general surprise—offering them terms of peace which they would scarcely have ventured to propose to him. Now virtually master of Greece, he assembled a Congress of the Grecian states at Corinth, at which all his proposals were adopted; war was declared against Persia, and Philip was appointed commander-in-chief of the Grecian and Macedonian forces. But while he was preparing for his great enterprise he was assassinated, during the festivities attending the marriage of his daughter, by a young Macedonian of noble birth, in revenge for some private wrong.

* * * * *

V. ACCESSION OF ALEXANDER THE GREAT.

Alexander, the son of Philip, then at the age of twenty years, succeeded his father on the throne of Macedon. At once the Illyrians, Thracians, and other northern tribes took up arms to recover their independence; but Alexander quelled the revolt in a single campaign. On the death of Philip, Demosthenes, who had been informed of the event by a special messenger, immediately took steps to incite Athens to shake off the Macedonian yoke. In the words of a modern historian, "He resolved to avail himself of the superstition of his fellow-citizens, by a pious fraud. He went to the senate-house and declared to the Five Hundred that Jove and Athe'na had forewarned him in a dream of some great blessing that was in store for the Commonwealth. Shortly afterward public couriers arrived with the news of Philip's death. Demosthenes, although in mourning for the recent loss of an only daughter, now came abroad dressed in white, and crowned with a chaplet, in which attire he was seen sacrificing at one of the public altars." He made vigorous preparations for action, and sent envoys to the principal Grecian states to excite them against Macedon. Several of the states, headed by the Athenians and the Thebans, rose against the dominant oligarchy; but Alexander, whose marches were unparalleled for their rapidity, suddenly appeared in their midst. Thebes was taken by assault; six thousand of her warriors were slain; the city was leveled with the ground, and thirty thousand prisoners were condemned to slavery. The other Grecian states hastily renewed their submission; and Athens, with servile homage, sent an embassy to congratulate the young king on his recent successes. Alexander accepted the excuses of all, and having intrusted the government of Greece and Macedon to Antip'ater, one of his generals, he set out on his career of Eastern conquest with only thirty-five thousand men, and a treasury of only seventy talents of silver. He had distributed nearly all the remaining property of his crown among his friends; and when he was asked what he had reserved for himself, he answered, "My hopes."

* * * * *

VI. ALEXANDER INVADES ASIA.

Early in the spring of 334 Alexander crossed the Hellespont, and a few days later defeated a large Persian army on the eastern bank of the Grani'cus, with the loss on his part of only eighty-five horsemen and thirty light infantry. The gates of Sardis and Ephesus were next thrown open to him, and he was soon undisputed master of all Asia Minor. Early in the following year he directed his march farther eastward, and on the coast of Cili'cia, near Issus, again met the Persian or barbarian army, numbering over seven hundred thousand men, and commanded by Dari'us, the Persian king. Alexander, as usual, led his army in person, and achieved a splendid victory. The wife, daughters, and an infant son of Darius fell into the hands of the conqueror, and were treated by him with the greatest kindness and respect, Some time after, and just before his death, when Darius heard of the generous treatment of his wife, who was accounted the most beautiful woman in Asia —of her death from sudden illness, and of the magnificent burial she had received from the conqueror—he lifted up his hands to heaven and prayed that if his kingdom were to pass from himself, it might be transferred to Alexander.

The conqueror now directed his march southward through northern Syria and Palestine, conquering Tyre after a vigorous siege of seven months. This was perhaps the greatest of Alexander's military achievements; but it was tarnished by his cruelty toward the conquered. Exasperated by the long and desperate resistance of the besieged, he gave them no quarter. Eight thousand of the inhabitants are said to have been massacred, and thirty thousand were sold into slavery. After the fall of Tyre Alexander proceeded into Egypt, which he easily brought under subjection. After having founded the present city of Alexandria, at the mouth of the Nile, he returned to Palestine, crossed the Euphrates, and marched into the very heart of the Persian empire, declaring, "The world can no more admit two masters than two suns."

* * * * *

VII. BATTLE OF ARBE'LA.—FLIGHT AND DEATH OF DARIUS.

On a beautiful plain, twenty miles distant from the town of Arbela, the Persian monarch, surrounded by all the pomp and luxury of Eastern magnificence, had collected the remaining strength of his empire, consisting of an army of more than a million of infantry and forty thousand cavalry, besides two hundred scythed chariots, and fifteen elephants brought from the west of India. To oppose this immense force Alexander had only forty thousand infantry and seven thousand cavalry. But his forces were well armed and disciplined, and were led by an able general who had never known defeat. Darius sustained the conflict with better judgment and more courage than at Issus; but the cool intrepidity of the Macedonians was irresistible, and the field of battle soon became a scene of slaughter, in which some say forty thousand, and others three hundred thousand, of the barbarians were slain, while the loss of Alexander did not exceed five hundred men. Although Darius escaped with a portion of his body-guard, the whole of the royal baggage and treasure was captured at Arbela.

Now simply a fugitive, "with merely the title of king," Darius crossed the mountains into Media, where he remained six or seven months, and until the advance of Alexander in pursuit compelled him to pass through the Caspian Gates into Parthia. Here, on the near approach of the enemy, he was murdered by Bessus, satrap of Bactria, because he refused to fly farther. "Within four years and three months from the time Alexander crossed the Hellespont," says GROTE, "by one stupendous defeat after another Darius had lost all his Western empire, and had become a fugitive eastward of the Caspian Gates, escaping captivity at the hand of Alexander only to perish by that of the satrap Bessus. All antecedent historical parallels—the ruin and captivity of the Lydian Croe'sus, the expulsion and mean life of the Syracusan Dionysius, both of them impressive examples of the mutability of human condition—sink into trifles compared with the overthrow of this towering Persian colossus. The orator AEschines expressed the genuine sentiment of a Grecian spectator when he exclaimed (in a speech delivered at Athens shortly before the death of Darius):

"'What is there among the list of strange and unexpected events which has not occurred in our time? Our lives have transcended the limits of humanity; we are born to serve as a theme for incredible tales to posterity. Is not the Persian king—who dug through Athos and bridged the Hellespont, who demanded earth and water from the Greeks, who dared to proclaim himself, in public epistles, master of all mankind from the rising to the setting sun—is not he now struggling to the last, not for dominion over others, but for the safety of his own person?' [Footnote: He speaks of both Xerxes and Darius as the Persian king.] Such were the sentiments excited by Alexander's career even in the middle of 330 B.C., more than seven years before his death."

Babylon and Susa, where the riches of the East lay accumulated, had meanwhile opened their gates to Alexander, and thence he directed his march to Persepolis, the capital of Persia, which he entered in triumph. Here he celebrated his victories by a magnificent feast, at which the great musician Timo'theus, of Thebes, performed on the flute and the lyre, accompanied by a chorus of singers. Such was the wonderful power of his music that the whole company are said to have been swayed by it to feelings of love, or hate, or revenge, as if by the wand of a magician. The poet DRYDEN has given us a description of this feast in a poem that has been called by some "the lyric masterpiece of English poetry," and by others "an inspired ode." Though designed especially to illustrate the power of music, it is based on historic facts. Only partial extracts from it can here be given.

Alexander's Feast.

'Twas at the royal feast, for Persia won By Philip's warlike son: Aloft in awful state The godlike hero sate On his imperial throne: His valiant peers were placed around, Their brows with roses and with myrtles bound (So should desert in arms be crowned). The lovely Thais, by his side Sat, like a blooming Eastern bride, In flower of youth and beauty's pride. Happy, happy, happy pair! None but the brave, None but the brave, None but the brave deserve the fair.

In the second division of the poem Timo'theus is represented as singing the praises of Jupiter, when the crowd, carried away by the enthusiasm with which the music had inspired them, proclaim Alexander a deity! The monarch accepts the adoration of his subjects, and "assumes the god."

The list'ning crowd admire the lofty sound: "A present deity!" they shout around: "A present deity!" the vaulted roofs rebound. With ravished ears The monarch hears, Assumes the god, Affects to nod, And seems to shake the spheres.

The praises of Bacchus and the joys of wine being next sung, the effects upon the king are described; and when the strains had fired his soul almost to madness, Timotheus adroitly changes the spirit and measure of his song, and as successfully allays the tempest of passion that his skill had raised. The effects of this change are thus described:

Soothed with the sound, the king grew vain; Fought all his battles o'er again; And thrice he routed all his foes; and thrice he slew the slain. The master saw the madness rise; His glowing cheeks, his ardent eyes; And, while he Heaven and Earth defied, Changed his hand, and checked his pride. He chose a mournful Muse, Soft pity to infuse; He sung Darius, great and good, By too severe a fate, Fallen, fallen, fallen, fallen, Fallen from his high estate, And weltering in his blood; Deserted at his utmost need, By those his former bounty fed; On the bare earth exposed he lies, With not a friend to close his eyes. With downcast looks the joyless victor sat, Revolving in his altered soul The various turns of chance below; And, now and then a sigh he stole, And tear's began to flow.

Under the soothing influence of the next theme, which is Love, Alexander sinks into a slumber, from which, however, a change in the music to discordant strains arouses him to feelings of revenge, as the singer draws a picture of the Furies, and of the Greeks "that in battle were slain." Then it was that Alexander, instigated by Thais, a celebrated Athenian beauty who accompanied him on his expedition, set fire to the palace of Persepolis, intending to burn the whole city—"the wonder of the world." The poet compares Thais to Helen, whose fatal beauty caused the downfall of Troy, 852 years before.

Now strike the golden lyre again; A louder yet, and yet a louder strain. Break his bands of sleep asunder, And rouse him, like a rattling peal of thunder. Hark! hark! the horrid sound Has raised up his head, As awaked from the dead, And, amazed, he stares around. Revenge! revenge! Timotheus cries, See the Furies arise! See the snakes that they rear! How they hiss in their hair, And the sparkles that flash from their eyes! Behold a ghastly band, Each a torch in his hand! These are the Grecian ghosts, that in battle were slain, And unburied remain, Inglorious on the plain: Give the vengeance due To the valiant crew, Behold how they toss their torches on high! How they point to the Persian abodes, And glittering temples of their hostile gods! The princes applaud with a furious joy; And the king seized a flambeau with zeal to destroy; Thais led the way, To light him to his prey, And, like another Helen, fired another Troy!

During four years Alexander remained in the heart of Persia, reducing to subjection the chiefs who still struggled for independence, and regulating the government of the conquered provinces. Ambitious of farther conquests, he passed the Indus, and invaded the country of the Indian king Po'rus, whom he defeated in a sanguinary engagement, and took prisoner. Alexander continued his march eastward until he reached the Hyph'asis, the most eastern tributary of the Indus, when his troops, seeing no end of their toils, refused to follow him farther, and he was reluctantly forced to abandon the career of conquest, which he had marked out for himself, to the Eastern ocean. He descended the Indus to the sea, whence, after sending a fleet with a portion of his forces around through the Persian Gulf to the Euphrates, he marched with the remainder of his army through the barren wastes of Gedro'sia, and after much suffering and loss once more reached the fertile provinces of Persia.

* * * * *

VIII. THE DEATH OF ALEXANDER.

For some time after his return Alexander's attention was engrossed with plans for organizing, on a permanent basis, the government of the mighty empire that he had won. Aiming to unite the conquerors and the conquered, so as to form out of both a nation independent alike of Macedonian and Persian prejudices, he married Stati'ra, the oldest daughter of Darius, and united his principal officers with Persian and Median women of the noblest families, while ten thousand of his soldiers were induced to follow the example of their superiors. But while he was occupied with these cares, and with dreams of future conquests, his career was suddenly terminated by death. On setting out to visit Babylon, in the spring of 324, soon after the decease of an intimate friend —Hephaes'tion—whose loss caused a great depression of his spirits, he was warned by the magicians that Babylon would be fatal to him; but he proceeded to the city to conclude his preparations for his next ambitious scheme—the subjugation of Arabia. Babylon was now to witness the consummation of his triumphs and of his life. "As in the last scene of some well-ordered drama," says a modern historian, "all the results and tokens of his great achievements seemed to be collected there to do honor to his final exit." Although his mind was actively occupied in plans of conquest, he was haunted by gloomy forebodings and superstitious fancies, and endeavored to dispel his melancholy by indulging freely in the pleasures of the table. Excessive drinking at last brought to a crisis a fever which he had probably contracted in the marshes of Assyria, and which suddenly terminated his life in the thirty-third year of his age, and the thirteenth of his reign (323 B.C.). He was buried in Babylon. From the Latin poet LUCAN we take the following estimate of

His Career and His Character.

Here the vain youth, who made the world his prize, That prosperous robber, Alexander, lies: When pitying Death at length had freed mankind, To sacred rest his bones were here consigned: His bones, that better had been tossed and hurled, With just contempt, around the injured world. But fortune spared the dead; and partial fate, For ages fixed his Pha'rian empire's date. [Footnote: Pharian. An allusion to the famous light-house, the Pharos of Alexandria, built by Ptolemy Philadelphus, son of Ptolemy Soter, who succeeded Alexander in Egypt.]

If e'er our long-lost liberty return, That carcass is reserved for public scorn; Now it remains a monument confessed, How one proud man could lord it o'er the rest. To Macedon, a corner of the earth, The vast ambitious spoiler owed his birth: There, soon, he scorned his father's humbler reign, And viewed his vanquished Athens with disdain.

Driven headlong on, by fate's resistless force, Through Asia's realms he took his dreadful course; His ruthless sword laid human nature waste, And desolation followed where he passed. Red Ganges blushed, and famed Euphrates' flood, With Persian this, and that with Indian blood.

Such is the bolt which angry Jove employs, When, undistinguishing, his wrath destroys: Such to mankind, portentous meteors rise, Trouble the gazing earth, and blast the skies. Nor flame nor flood his restless rage withstand, Nor Syrts unfaithful, nor the Libyan sand: [Footnote: Syrts. Two gulfs—Syrtis Minor and Syrtis Major—on the northern coast of Africa, abounding in quicksands, and dangerous to navigation.] O'er waves unknown he meditates his way, And seeks the boundless empire of the sea.

E'en to the utmost west he would have gone, Where Te'thys' lap receives the setting sun; [Footnote: Tethys, the fabled wife of Ocean, and daughter of Heaven and Earth.] Around each pole his circuit would have made, And drunk from secret Nile's remotest head, When Nature's hand his wild ambition stayed; With him, that power his pride had loved so well, His monstrous universal empire, fell; No heir, no just successor left behind, Eternal wars he to his friends assigned, To tear the world, and scramble for mankind. —LUCAN. Trans. by ROWE.

The poet JUVENAL, moralizing on the death of Alexander, tells us that, notwithstanding his illimitable ambition, the narrow tomb that be found in Babylon was sufficiently ample for the small body that had contained his mighty soul.

One world sufficed not Alexander's mind; Cooped up, he seemed in earth and seas confined, And, struggling, stretched his restless limbs about The narrow globe, to find a passage out! Yet, entered in the brick-built town, he tried The tomb, and found the straight dimensions wide. Death only this mysterious truth unfolds: The mighty soul, how small a body holds! —Tenth Satire. Trans. by DRYDEN.

The body of Alexander was removed from Babylon to Alexandria by Ptolemy Soter, one of his generals, subsequently King of Egypt, and was interred in a golden coffin. The sarcophagus in which the coffin was enclosed has been in the British Museum since 1802—a circumstance to which BYRON makes a happy allusion in the closing lines of the following verse:

How vain, how worse than vain, at length appear The madman's wish, the Macedonian's tear! He wept for worlds to conquer; half the earth Knows not his name, or but his death and birth, And desolation; while his native Greece Hath all of desolation, save its peace. He "wept for worlds to conquer!" he who ne'er Conceived the globe he panted not to spare! With even the busy Northern Isle unknown, Which holds his urn, and never knew his throne.



CHAPTER XVI.

FROM THE DEATH OF ALEXANDER TO THE CONQUEST OF GREECE BY THE ROMANS.

I. A RETROSPECTIVE GLANCE AT GREECE.

PROSECUTION OF DEMOSTHENES.

Turning now to the affairs of Greece, we find that, three years after Alexander entered Asia, the Spartans made a determined effort to throw off the Macedonian yoke. They were joined by most of the Peloponnesian states, but Athens took no part in the revolt. Although meeting with some successes at first, the Spartans were finally defeated with great slaughter by Antip'ater (331 B.C.), who had been left by Alexander in command of Greece and Macedonia. This victory, and Alexander's successes in the East, gave rise to active measures by the Macedonian party in Athens against Demosthenes, who was holding two public offices, and, by his ability and patriotism, was still doing great service to the state. The occasion of this prosecution was as follows:

Soon after the disastrous battle of Chaerone'a, Ctes'iphon, an Athenian citizen, proposed that a golden crown [Footnote: It was customary with the Athenians, and some other Greeks also, to honor their most meritorious citizens with a chaplet of olive interwoven with gold, and this was called a "golden crown."] should be bestowed upon Demosthenes, in the public theatre, on the occasion of the Dionysiac festival, as a reward for his patriotism and public services. The special service for which the reward was proposed was the rebuilding of the walls of Athens by Demosthenes, partially at his own expense. After the Athenian Senate had acquiesced in the measure, AEschines, the rival of Demosthenes, brought an accusation against Ctesiphon for a violation of the law, in that, among other things charged, it was illegal to crown an official intrusted with the public moneys before he had rendered an account of his office—a proceeding which prevented the carrying of Ctesiphon's proposal to the people for a final decision. Thus the matter slumbered during a period of six years, when it was revived by AEschines, who thought he saw, in the success of the Macedonian arms—on which all his personal and political hopes were staked—a grand opportunity to crush his great rival. He now, therefore, brought the charges against Ctesiphon to trial. Although the latter was the nominal defendant in the case, and Demosthenes was only his counsel, it was well understood that the real object of attack was Demosthenes himself, his whole policy and administration; and a vast concourse of people flocked to Athens to hear the two most celebrated orators in the world. A jury of not less than five hundred, chosen from the citizens at large, was impaneled by the archon; and before a dense and breathless audience the pleadings began.

The Oration of AEschines against Ctesiphon.

AEschines introduces his oration with the following brief exordium: "You see, Athenians, what forces are prepared, what numbers gathered and arrayed, what soliciting through the assembly, by a certain party—and all this to oppose the fair and ordinary course of justice in the state. As to me, I stand here in firm reliance, first on the immortal gods, next on the laws and you, convinced that faction never can have greater weight with you than law and justice."

After AEschines had dwelt at length, and with great ability, upon the nature of the offence with which Ctesiphon is charged, the laws applicable to it, and the supposed evasions of Demosthenes in his reply, he reads the decree of the senate in favor of the bestowment of the crown, in the following words:

"And the herald shall make proclamation in the theatre, in presence of the Greeks, that the community of Athens hath crowned him, on account of his virtue and magnanimity, and for his constant and inviolable attachment to the interests of the state, through the course of all his counsels and administration."

This gives the orator the opportunity to enter upon an extended review of the public life and character of Demosthenes, in which he boldly charges him with cowardice in the battle of Chaeronea, with bribery and fraud in his public administration, and declares him to have been the prime cause of innumerable calamities that had befallen his country. He says:

"It is my part, as the prosecutor, to satisfy you on this point, that the praises bestowed on Demosthenes are false; that there never was a time in which he even began as a faithful counselor, far from persevering in any course of conduct advantageous to the state.

"It remains that I produce some instances of his abandoned flattery. For one whole year did Demosthenes enjoy the honor of a senator; and yet in all that time it never appears that he moved to grant precedency to any ministers; for the first time—the only time—he conferred this distinction on the ministers of Philip; he servilely attended, to accommodate them with his cushions and his carpets; by the dawn of day he conducted them to the theatre, and, by his indecent and abandoned adulation, raised a universal uproar of derision. When they were on their departure toward Thebes, he hired three teams of mules, and conducted them in state into that city. Thus did he expose his country to ridicule.

"And yet this abject, this enormous flatterer, when he had been the first that received advice of Philip's death from the emissaries of Charide'mus, pretended a divine vision, and, with a shameless lie, declared that this intelligence had been conveyed to him, not by Charidemus, but by Jupiter and Minerva. Thus he dared to boast that these divinities, by whom he had sworn falsely in the day, had descended to hold communication with him in the night, and to inform him of futurity. Seven days had now scarcely elapsed since the death of his daughter when this wretch, before he had performed the usual rites of mourning—before he had duly paid her funeral honors—crowned his head with a chaplet, put on his white robe, made a solemn sacrifice in despite of law and decency; and this when he had lost his child, the first, the only child that had ever called him by the tender name of father. I say not this to insult his misfortunes; I mean but to display his real character. For he who hates his children, he who is a bad parent, cannot possibly prove a good minister. He who is insensible to that natural affection which should engage his heart to those who are most intimate and near to him, can never feel a greater regard to your welfare than to that of strangers. He who acts wickedly in private life cannot prove excellent in his public conduct; he who is base at home, can never acquit himself with honor when sent to a strange country in a public character. For it is not the man, but the scene that changes.

"Is not this, our state, the common refuge of the Greeks, once the great resort of all the ambassadors from the several cities sent to implore our protection as their sure resource, now obliged to contend, not for sovereign authority, but for our native land? And to these circumstances have we been gradually reduced, from that time when Demosthenes first assumed the administration. Well doth the poet Hesiod refer to such men, in one part of his works, where he points out the duty of citizens, and warns all societies to guard effectually against evil ministers. I shall repeat his words; for I presume we treasured up the sayings of poets in our memory when young, that in our riper years we might apply them to advantage.

"'When one man's crimes the wrath of Heaven provoke, Oft hath a nation felt the fatal stroke. Contagion's blast destroys at Jove's command, And wasteful famine desolates the land. Or, in the field of war, her boasted powers Are lost, and earth receives her prostrate towers. In vain in gorgeous state her navies ride, Dashed, wrecked, and buried in the boist'rous tide.'

"Take away the measure of these verses, consider only the sentiment, and you will fancy that you hear, not some part of Hesiod, but a prophecy of the administration of Demosthenes; for true it is, that both fleets and armies, and whole cities, have been completely destroyed by his administration.

"Which, think ye, was the more worthy citizen—Themistocles, who commanded your fleet when you defeated the Persian in the sea-fight at Salamis, or this Demosthenes, who deserted from his post? Miltiades, who conquered the barbarians at Marathon, or this man? The chiefs who led back the people from Phy'le; Aristides, surnamed the Just, or Demosthenes? No; by the powers of heaven, I deem the names of these heroes too noble to be mentioned in the same day with that of this savage! And let Demosthenes show, when he comes to his reply, if ever decree was made for granting a golden crown to them. Was then the state ungrateful? No; but she thought highly of her own dignity. And these citizens, who were not thus honored, appear to have been truly worthy of such a state; for they imagined that they were not to be honored by public records, but by the memories of those they had obliged; and their honors have there remained, from that time down to this day, in characters indelible and immortal. There were citizens in those days who, being stationed at the river Strymon, there patiently endured a long series of toils and dangers, and at length gained a victory over the Medes. At their return they petitioned the people for a reward; and a reward was conferred upon them (then deemed of great importance) by erecting three memorials of stone in the usual portico, on which, however, their names were not inscribed, lest this might seem a monument erected to the honor of the commanders, not to that of the people. For the truth of this I appeal to the inscriptions. That on the first statue was expressed thus:

"'Great souls! who fought near Strymon's rapid tide, And braved the invader's arm, and quelled his pride, Ei'on's high towers confess'd the glorious deed, And saw dire famine waste the vanquished Mede. Such was our vengeance on the barb'rous host, And such the generous toils our heroes boast.'

"This was the inscription on the second:

"'This the reward which grateful Athens gives! Here still the patriot and the hero lives! Here let the rising age with rapture gaze, And emulate the glorious deeds they praise.'

"On the third was the inscription:

"'Mnes'the-us hence led forth his chosen train, And poured the war o'er hapless Ilion's plain. 'Twas his (so speaks the bard's immortal lay) To form the embodied host in firm array. Such were our sons! Nor yet shall Athens yield The first bright honors of the sanguine field. Still, nurse of heroes! still the praise is thine, Of every glorious toil, of every art divine.'

"In these do we find the name of the general? No; but that of the people. Fancy yourselves transported to the grand portico; for, in this your place of assembling, the monuments of all great actions are erected in full view. There we find a picture of the battle of Marathon. Who was the general in this battle? To this question you will all answer—Miltiades. And yet his name is not inscribed. How? Did he not petition for such an honor? He did petition; but the people refused to grant it. Instead of inscribing his name, they consented that he should be drawn in the foreground, encouraging his soldiers. In like manner, in the temple of the great Mother adjoining the senate-house, you may see the honors paid to those who brought our exiles back from Phyle; nor were even these granted precipitately, but after an exact previous examination by the senate into the numbers of those who maintained their post there, when the Lacedaemonians and the Thirty marched to attack them—not of those who fled from their post at Chaeronea on the first appearance of an enemy." AEschines closes his very able and brilliant oration with the following words:

"And now bear witness for me, thou Earth, thou Sun, O Virtue and Intelligence, and thou, O Erudition, which teachest us the just distinction between vice and goodness, that I have stood up, that I have spoken in the cause of justice. If I have supported my prosecution with a dignity befitting its importance, I have spoken as my wishes dictated; if too deficiently, as my abilities admitted. Let what hath now been offered, and what your own thoughts must supply, be duly weighed, and pronounce such a sentence as justice and the interests of the state demand." —Trans. by THOMAS LELAND, D.D.

AEschines was immediately followed by Demosthenes in a reply which has been considered "the greatest speech of the greatest orator in the world." The historian GROTE speaks of "the encomiums which have been pronounced upon it with one voice, both in ancient and modern times, as the unapproachable masterpiece of Grecian oratory." It has been styled, from the occasion on which it was delivered,

The Oration of Demosthenes on the Crown.

The orator opens his defence against the charges brought forward by his adversary with the following exordium, which Quintil'ian commends for its modesty:

"I begin, men of Athens, by praying to every god and goddess that the same good-will which I have ever cherished toward the Commonwealth, and all of you, may be requited to me on the present trial. I pray likewise—and this specially concerns yourselves, your religion, and your honor—that the gods may put it in your minds, not to take counsel of my opponent touching the manner in which I am to be heard [Footnote: AEschines had requested that Demosthenes should be "confined to the same method in his defence" which he, AEschines, had pursued in his charges against him.]—that would indeed be cruel!—but of the laws and of your oath; wherein (besides the other obligations) it is prescribed that you shall hear both sides alike. This means, not only that you must pass no pre-condemnation, not only that you must extend your good-will equally to both, but also that you must allow the parties to adopt such order and course of defence as they severally choose and prefer.

"Many advantages hath AEschines over me on this trial; and two especially, men of Athens. First, our risk in the contest is not the same. It is assuredly not the same for me to forfeit your regard as for my adversary not to succeed in his indictment. To me—but I will say nothing untoward at the outset of my address. The prosecution, however, is play to him. My second disadvantage is the natural disposition of mankind to take pleasure in hearing invective and accusation, and to be annoyed by them who praise themselves. To AEschines is assigned the part which gives pleasure; that which is (I may fairly say) offensive to all, is left for me. And if, to escape from this, I make no mention of what I have done, I shall appear to be without defence against his charges, without proof of my claims to honor; whereas, if I proceed to give an account of my conduct and measures, I shall be forced to speak frequently of myself. I will endeavor, then, to do so with becoming modesty. What I am driven to by the necessity of the case will be fairly chargeable to my opponent, who has instituted such a prosecution.

"I think, men of the jury, you will all agree that I, as well as Ctesiphon, am a party to this proceeding, and that it is a matter of no less concern to me than to him. It is painful and grievous to be deprived of anything, especially by the act of one's enemy; but your good-will and affection are the heaviest loss precisely as they are the greatest prize to gain.

"Had AEschines confined his charge to the subject of the prosecution, I too would have proceeded at once to my justification of the decree. [Footnote: The decree of the senate procured by Ctesiphon in favor of Demosthenes.] But since he has wasted no fewer words in the discussion, in most of them calumniating me, I deem it both necessary and just, men of Athens, to begin by shortly adverting to these points, that none of you may be induced by extraneous arguments to shut your ears against my defence to the indictment.

"To all his scandalous abuse about my private life observe my plain and obvious answer. If you know me to be such as he alleged —for I have lived nowhere else but among you—let not my voice be heard, however transcendent my statesmanship. Rise up this instant and condemn me. But if, in your opinion and judgment, I am far better and of better descent than my adversary; if (to speak without offence) I am not inferior, I or mine, to any respectable citizens, then give no credit to him for his other statements; it is plain they were all equally fictions; but to me let the same good-will which you have uniformly exhibited upon many former trials be manifested now. With all your malice, AEschines, it was very simple to suppose that I should turn from the discussion of measures and policy to notice your scandal. I will do no such thing. I am not so crazed. Your lies and calumnies about my political life I will examine forthwith. For that loose ribaldry I shall have a word hereafter, if the jury desire to hear it.

"If the crimes which AEschines saw me committing against the state were as heinous as he so tragically gave out, he ought to have enforced the penalties of the law against them at the time; if he saw me guilty of an impeachable offence, by impeaching and so bringing me to trial before you; if moving illegal decrees, by indicting me for them. For surely, if he can indict Ctesiphon on my account, he would not have forborne to indict me myself had he thought he could convict me. In short, whatever else he saw me doing to your prejudice, whether mentioned or not mentioned in his catalogue of slander, there are laws for such things, and trials, and judgments, with sharp and severe penalties, all of which he might have enforced against me; and, had he done so—had he thus pursued the proper method with me—his charges would have been consistent with his conduct. But now he has declined the straightforward and just course, avoided all proofs of guilt at the time, and after this long interval gets up to play his part withal—a heap of accusation, ribaldry, and scandal. Then he arraigns me, but prosecutes the defendant. His hatred of me he makes the prominent part of the whole contest; yet, without having ever met me upon that ground, he openly seeks to deprive a third party of his privileges. Now, men of Athens, besides all the other arguments that may be urged in Ctesiphon's behalf, this, methinks, may very fairly be alleged—that we should try our quarrel by ourselves; not leave our private dispute and look what third party we can damage. That, surely, were the height of injustice."

Demosthenes now enters upon an elaborate review of the history of Athens from the beginning of the Phocian war, his own relations thereto, and the charges of AEschines in connection therewith, fortifying his defence with numerous citations from public documents, and boldly arraigning the political principles and policy of his opponent, whom he accuses of being in frequent communication with the emissaries of Philip—"a spy by nature, and an enemy to his country." In the following terms he speaks of his own public services, and reminds AEschines that the people do not forget them:

"Many great and glorious enterprises has the Commonwealth, AEschines, undertaken and succeeded in through me; and she did not forget them. Here is the proof. On the election of a person to speak the funeral oration immediately after the event, you were proposed; but the people would not have you, notwithstanding your fine voice; nor Dema'des, though he had just made the peace; nor He-ge'mon, nor any other of your party—but me. And when you and Pyth'ocles came forward in a brutal and shameful manner (oh, merciful Heaven!) and urged the same accusations against me which you now do, and abused me, they elected me all the more. The reason—you are not ignorant of it, yet I will tell you. The Athenians knew as well the loyalty and zeal with which I conducted their affairs as the dishonesty of you and your party; for what you denied upon oath in our prosperity you confessed in the misfortunes of the republic. They considered, therefore, that men who got security for their politics by the public disasters had been their enemies long before, and were then avowedly such. They thought it right, also, that the person who was to speak in honor of the fallen, and celebrate their valor, should not have sat under the same roof or at the same table with their antagonists; that he should not revel there and sing a paean over the calamities of Greece in company with their murderers, and then come here and receive distinction; that he should not with his voice act the mourner of their fate, but that he should lament over them with his heart. And such sincerity they found in themselves and me, but not in any of you: therefore they elected me, and not you. Nor, while the people felt thus, did the fathers and brothers of the deceased, who were chosen by the people to perform their obsequies, feel differently. For having to order the funeral (according to custom) at the house of the nearest relative of the deceased, they ordered it at mine —and with reason: because, though each to his own was nearer of kin than I was, no one was so near to them all collectively. He that had the deepest interest in their safety and success must surely feel the deepest sorrow at their unhappy and unmerited misfortune. Read the epitaph inscribed upon their monument by public authority. In this, AEschines, you will find a proof of your absurdity, your malice, your abandoned baseness. Read!

The Epitaph.

"'These are the patriot brave who, side by side, Stood to their arms and dashed the foeman's pride: Firm in their valor, prodigal of life, Hades they chose the arbiter of strife; That Greeks might ne'er to haughty victors bow, Nor thraldom's yoke, nor dire oppression know, They, fought, they bled, and on their country's breast (Such was the doom of Heaven) these warriors rest: Gods never lack success, nor strive in vain, But man must suffer what the Fates ordain.'

"Do you hear, AEschines, in this very inscription, that 'the gods never lack success, nor strive in vain?' Not to the statesman does it ascribe the power of giving victory in battle, but to the gods. But one thing, O Athenians, surprised me more than all—that, when AEschines mentioned the late misfortunes of the country, he felt not as became a well-disposed and upright citizen; he shed no tear, experienced no such emotion: with a loud voice, exulting and straining his throat, he imagined apparently that he was accusing me, while he was giving proof against himself that our distresses touched him not.

"Two things, men of Athens, are characteristic of a well-disposed citizen; so may I speak of myself and give the least offence. In authority his constant aim should be the dignity and pre-eminence of the Commonwealth; in all times and circumstances his spirit should be loyal. This depends upon nature; power and might upon other things. Such a spirit, you will find, I have ever sincerely cherished. Only see! When my person was demanded—when they brought Amphictyonic suits against me—when they menaced—when they promised—when they set these miscreants like wild beasts upon me—never in any way have I abandoned my affection for you. From the very beginning I chose an honest and straightforward course in politics, to support the honor, the power, the glory of my fatherland; these to exalt, in these to have my being. I do not walk about the market-place gay and cheerful because the stranger has prospered, holding out my right hand and congratulating those who I think will report it yonder, and on any news of our own success shudder and groan and stoop to the earth like these impious men who rail at Athens, as if in so doing they did not rail at themselves; who look abroad, and if the foreigner thrives by the distresses of Greece, are thankful for it, and say we should keep him so thriving to all time.

"Never, O ye gods, may those wishes be confirmed by you! If possible, inspire even in these men a better sense and feeling! But if they are indeed incurable, destroy them by themselves; exterminate them on land and sea; and for the rest of us, grant that we may speedily be released from our present fears, and enjoy a lasting deliverance." [Footnote: Lord Brougham says that "the music of this closing passage (in the original) is almost as fine as the sense is impressive and grand, and the manner dignified and calm," and he admits the difficulty of preserving this in a translation. His own translation of the passage is as follows: "Let not, O gracious God, let not such conduct receive any measure of sanction from thee! Rather plant even in these men a better spirit and better feelings! But if they are wholly incurable, then pursue them, yea, themselves by themselves, to utter and untimely perdition, by land and by sea; and to us who are spared, vouchsafe to grant the speediest rescue from our impending alarms, and an unshaken security."] —Trans. by CHARLES RANN KENNEDY.