that he was constituted, by all the Greeks, member of the council of Amphyctions, and general and commander of their forces, with full and unlimited powers.

This welcome invitation and commission, the fruit of all his secret practices, Philip received in Thrace, while he was yet on his return to Macedon. He bowed with an affectionate reverence to the venerable council, and declared his readiness to execute their orders.

The inferior states of Greece, and all those whose simplicity and weakness rendered them insensible to the designs now forming by Philip, entirely approved of the act of the Amphyctions; and of the nomination of a prince to the command of their forces, so eminent and illustrious for his piety, and so capable of executing the vengeance of Heaven. At Sparta and at Athens, this event was considered in a different manner. The first of these people, though possessed but of a small part of their ancient greatness, yet still retained their pride, and seemed to have looked with a sullen indignation at the honors paid Macedon; the Athenians had been long taught to dread the policy of Philip, and now their great popular leader repeatedly urged the necessity of suspicion, and represented all the late transactions in the Amphyctionic council as the effects of Philip's intrigues, and a design against Greece in general, but more particularly against the welfare and liberty of Athens.

To counteract the zeal of Demosthenes, and to prevent the effects of his incessant remonstrances, the minds of the people were alarmed with oracles and predictions, uttered with all solemnity from the sacred tripod, and reported to the Athenians with all the veneration due to the dictates of Apollo. Vengeance was pronounced against all those who should presume to oppose the king of Macedon, the destined instrument of Divine Justice; and the people were exhorted not to suffer artful and designing orators, and popular leaders, to seduce them to their ruin.

In the mean time, Philip immediately got his troops together; and with all the show of religious veneration, began to march, in order to chastise the irreverent Locrians. But he had far different aims; and instead of proceeding upon so ridiculous a commission, made a sudden, turn, and seized upon Elatea, a capital city of Phocis, which was very well situated for awing the Thebans, of whom he began to grow jealous, and for preparing his way to Athens. But by so extraordinary a step as this, he fairly threw off the mask,

W

and bade defiance to the whole body of Grecians. Thus was this enterprising prince, all of a sudden, master of a port of the utmost consequence; at the head of an army, capable of striking terror into his opposers; at the distance of but two days march from Attica; absolute commander, as it were, of the citadel and fortress, both of Thebes and Athens ; conveniently situated for receiving succors from Thessaly and Macedon; and entirely at liberty either to give battle to those who might presume to appear in arms against him, or to protract the war to any length that might be found convenient.

The news of Philip's recent transaction was quickly spread through the adjacent countries; and received with all the stupid and helpless astonishment of men roused from a long lethargy, and awakened to a dreadful sense of their danger, and of the real designs of their enemy. It was late in the evening when a courier arriving at Athens, appeared before the Prytanes, and pronounced the dreadful tidings, that the king of Macedon had taken possession of Elatea. These magistrates, and all the other citizens were now at supper, indulging themselves in the pleasures and gaieties of the table, when the news, which in an instant rung through all the city, roused them from their state of ease, and put an end to all their festivity. The streets and public places were instantly filled with a distracted concourse; every man with terror and confusion in his countenance; and every man solicitous for an immediate consultation, on an emergency so important and alarming. At the dawn of the succeeding day, the assembly met together, impressed with that consternation which urgent danger naturally inspires. The whole body of the people flocked to the senate house, seized their places, and waited with the utmost anxiety for so important a deliberation. The herald, as was the custom at Athens, arose, and cried out with a loud voice, "Who among you will ascend the tribunal " All however was silence, terror and dismay; he again repeated the invitation; but still no one rose up, though all the generals and orators were present. At length Demosthenes, animated with the greatness of the approaching danger, arose, undaunted and unmoved in this scene of horror. With a countenance of serenity, the firm composure of a patriot, and the sage discernment of a complete statesman, he addressed himself to the assembly in the following manner: "Athenians! permit me to explain the circumstances of that state which Philip has now seized up

un.

Those of its citizens whom his gold could corrupt, or

his artifice deceive, are all at his devotion. What then is his design? By drawing up his forces, and displaying his powers on the borders of Thebes, he hopes to inspire his adherents with confidence and elevation, and to terrify and control his adversaries, that fear or force may drive them into those measures which we have hitherto opposed. If then, we are resolved in this conjuncture, to cherish the remembrance of every act of unkindness, which the Thebans have done to Athens; if we regard them with suspicion, as men who have ranged themselves on the side of our enemy; in the first place we shall act agreeably to Philip's warmest wishes; and then I am apprehensive, that the party who now oppose him, may be brought over to his interest; the whole city submit unanimously to his direction; and Thebes and Macedon fall, with their united force on Attica. Grant the due attention to what I shall now propose; let it be calmly weighed without dispute or cavil, and I doubt not but that my counsels may direct you to the best and most salutary measures, and dispel the dangers now impending over the state. What then do I recommend? First shake off that terror which hath possessed your minds; and instead of fearing for yourselves, let the Thebans be the objects of your apprehensions: they are more immediately affected; they are the first to feel the dangers. In the next place, all those of the age for military service, both infantry and cavalry, should march instantly to Eleusis, that Greece may see, that you are also assembled in arms; and your friends in Thebes be emboldened to assert their rights, when they are assured, that as they who have sold their country to the Macedonians, have a force at Elatea to support them, so you are ready to assist the men who bravely contend for liberty. In the first place I recommend to you to nominate ten ambassadors, who, with the generals, may have full authority to determine the time, and all other circumstances of this march. When these ambassadors arrive at Thebes, how are they to conduct this great affair? This is a point worthy of your most serious attention. Make no demands of the Thebans; at this conjuncture it would be dishonorable; assure them that your assistance is ready for their acceptance, as you are justly affected by their danger, and have been so happy as to foresee and to guard against it. If they approve of your sentiments, and embrace your overtures, we shall effect our great purpose, and act with a dignity worthy of our state.-But should it happen that we are not so successful, whatever misfortunes they may suffer, to themselves shall they be imputed; while your con

duct shall appear, in no one instance, inconsistent with the honor and renown of Athens.".

This oration, delivered with ease and resolution, did not want its due effect; it was received with universal applause, and Demosthenes himself was instantly chosen to head the embassy which he had now proposed. A decree, in pursuance of his advice was drawn up, in form; with an additional clause, that a fleet of two hundred sail should be fitted out to cruize near Thermopylæ.

In consequence of this, Demosthenes set out for Thebes, making the more haste, as he was sensible that Philip might over-run Attica in two days. Philip on the other hand, in order to oppose the eloquence of Demosthenes sent ambassadors to Thebes, among whom was Python, who particularly distinguished himself by the liveliness of his orations. But his persuasive powers were far inferior to those of Deinosthenes, who overcame all opposition. The masculine eloquence of Demosthenes, was irresistible; and kindled in the souls of the Thebans so warm a zeal for their country, and so strong a passion for freedom, that they were no longer masters of themselves; laying aside all fear and gratitude, and all prudential considerations.

That which animated Demosthenes, next to his public safety, was his having to do with a man of Python's abilities; and he some time after took occasion to value himself upon the victory he had obtained over him. "I did not give way," said he, "to the boasting Python, when he would have bore me down with a torrent of words."—He gloried more in the success of this negociation, than of any other he had been employed in, and spoke of it as his masterpiece in politics.

Philip, quite disconcerted by the union of these two nations, sent ambassadors to the Athenians to request them not to levy an armed force, but to live in harmony with him. However, they were too justly alarmed and exasperated, to Listen to any accommodation; and would no longer depend on the word of a prince, whose whole aim was to deceive. In consequence, preparations for war were made with the utmost diligence, and the soldiery discovered incredible ardor. However, many evil disposed persons endeavored to extinguish or damp it, by relating fatal omens, and terrible predictions, which the priestess of Delphos was said to have uttered. But Demosthenes, confiding firmly in the arms of Greece, and encouraged wonderfully by the number and bravery of the troops, who desired only to march against

248

GOLDSMITH'S HISTORY

advanced to the charge, first appearance of a reverse ror, turned his back, cast dorned with this inscription,

cold

and

in

characters-To Good

and at of fortune, in an agony of ter-. away that shield which he had agolden foremost

triumphant

in the general

rout.

Fortune; and appeared the The ridicule and malice of his enemies, related or perhaps invented another shameful circumstance; that being impeded in his flight by some brambles, his imagination was so possessed with the presence of an enemy, that he loudly cried out for quarter. While Philip was thus on his side, Alexander continued the conflict on the other wing: and at length broke the Thebans in spite of all their acts of valor, who now fled from the field, and were pursued with great carnage. The centre of confederates was thus totally to the fury of a victorious enemy. had been already made: more than

the

abandoned

But enough of slaughter one thousand of the A

thenians lay dead on the field of battle, two thousand were made prisoners, and the loss of the Thebans was not inferior. Philip therefore determined to conclude his important victory, by an act of apparent clemency, which his ambition and policy really dictated. He gave orders that the Greeks should be spared, conscious of his own designs, and still expecting to appear in the field the head and leader of that body which he had now completely subdued.

Philip was transported with this victory beyond measure, and having drank to excess at an entertainment which he gave upon that occasion, went into the field of battle, where he insulted over the slain, and upbraided the prisoners with their misfortunes. He leaped and danced about in a frantic manner, and with an air of burlesque merriment, sung the beginning of the decree, which Demosthenes had drawn up as a declaration of the war against him. Demades, who was of the number of the prisoners, had the courage to reproach him with this ungenerous behaviour, telling him, "That fortune had given him the part of Agamemnon, but that he was acting that of Thersites." He was so struck with the justness of this reproof, that it wrought a thorough change in him; and he was so far from being offended at Demades, that he immediately gave him his liberty, and shewed him afterwards great marks of honor and friendship. He likewise relieved all the Athenian captives without ransom; and when they found him so generously disposed towards them, they made a demand of their baggage, with every thing else that had been taken from them;