riciar, and, on a sudden, as if inspired by some god, and possessed with the spirit of Apollo himself, cries out, swearing by those brave defenders of Greece: No, Athenians, you have not erred. I swear by those illustrious men who fought by land at Marathon and Platææ; by sea before Salamis and Artemisium; and all those who have been honoured by the commonwealth with the solemn rites of burial, and not those only who have been crowned with success, and came off victorious. Would not one conclude, adds Longinus, that by changing the natural air of the proof into this grand and pathetic manner of affirming by oaths of so extraordinary a nature, he deifies, in some measure, those ancient citizens; and makes all who die in the same glorious manner so many gods, by whose names it is proper to swear?

I have already observed in another place, how naturally apt these orations (spoken in a most solemn manner,* to the glory of those who lost their lives in fighting for the cause of liberty) were to inspire the Athenian youth with an ardent zeal for their country, and a warm desire to signalize themselves in battle. Another ceremony observed with regard to those children whose fathers had died ir the bed of honour,† was no less efficacious to inspire them with the love of virtue. In a celebrated festival, in which shows were exhibited to the whole people, a herald came upon the stage, and producing the young orphans drest in complete armour, proclaimed with a loud voice: These young orphans whom an untimely death in the midst of dangers has deprived of their illustrious fathers, have found in the people a parent, who has taken care of them till no longer in a state of infancy. And now they send them back, armed cap-a-pié to follow under the most happy auspices, their own affairs; and invite them to emulate one another in deserving the chief employments of the state. By such methods martial bravery, the love of one's country, and a taste for virtue and solid glory, are perpetuated in a state.

It was the very year of the battle of Charonea, and two years before the death of Philip, that Eschines, jealous of the glory of his rival, impugned the decree which had granted him a crown of gold, and drew up an accusation against Ctesiphon, or rather against Demosthenes. But the cause was not pleaded till seven or eight years after, about the fifth or sixth year of the reign of Alexander. I shall relate the event of it in this place, to avoid breaking in upon the history of the life and actions of that prince.

No cause ever excited so much curiosity, nor was pleaded with so much pomp. People flocked to it from all parts (says Cicero:‡) and they had great reason for so doing; for what sight could be nobler, than a conflict between two orators, each of them excellent

*Demosthenes, in his oration against Leptines, p. 562, observes, that the Athenians were the only people who caused funeral orations to be spoken in honour of such persons, as had lost their lives in the defence of their country. † Eschin. contra Ctesiph. p. 452.

Ad quod judicium concursus dicitur è totâ Grecià factus esse. Quid enim aut tam visendum, aut tam audiendum fuit, quàm summorum oratorum, in gravissimâ causâ, aecurata et inimicitiis incensa contentio? Cicer. de opt. gen. Orat. n. 22.

in his way; both formed by nature, improved by art, and animated by perpetual dissensions and an implacable animosity against each other?

These two orations have always been considered as the master pieces of antiquity, especially that of Demosthenes. Cicero had translated the whole of it,* a strong proof of the high opinion he entertained for it. Unhappily for us, the preamble only to that performance is now extant, which is sufficient to make us very much regret the loss of the rest.

Amidst the numberless beauties which are conspicuous in every part of these two orations, methinks there appears (if I may be allowed to censure the writings of such great men) a considerable defect, that very much lessens their perfection, and which appears to me directly repugnant to the rules of solid and just eloquence; and that is, the gross, injurious terms in which the two orators reproach one another. The same objection has been made to Cicero, with regard to his orations against Antony. I have already declared, that this style, this assemblage of gross, opprobrious expressions, are the very reverse of solid eloquence; and indeed, every speech, which is dictated by passion and revenge, never fails of being suspected by those who judge of it; whereas an oration that is strong and invincible from its reason and argument, and which at the same time is conducted with reserve and moderation, wins the heart, whilst it informs the understanding; and persuades no less by the esteem it inspires for the orator, than by the force of his arguments.

The times seemed to favour Eschines very much; for the Mace donian party, whom he always befriended, was very powerful in Athens, especially after the ruin of Thebes. Nevertheless, Æschines lost his cause, and was justly sentenced to banishment for his rash accusation. He thereupon went and settled himself in Rhodes, where he opened a school of eloquence, the fame and glory of which continued for many ages. He began his lectures with the two orations that had occasioned his banishment. Great encomiums were given to that of Æschines; but when they heard that of Demosthenes, the plaudits and acclamations were redoubled. And it was then that he spoke these words, so highly worthy of praise in the mouth of an enemy and a rival; But what applauses would you not have bestowed, had you heard Demosthenes speak it himself!

To conclude, the victor made a good use of his conquest. For at the time that Æschines was leaving Athens, in order to embark for Rhodes, Demosthenes ran after him, and forced him to accept of a purse of money; an offer which must have obliged him so much the more, as he had less room to expect it. On this occasion Eschines cried out: How will it be possible for me not to regret a country,† in

De opt. gen. Orat.

Some authors ascribe these words to Demosthenes; when, three years after, he met with the same fate as Eschines, and was also banished from Athens

which I leave an enemy more generous than I can hope to find frienas in any other part of the world!

SECTION VII.

Philip, in the assembly of the Amphictyons, is declared general of the Greeks against the Persians, and prepares for that important expedition. Domestic troubles in his household. He divorces Olympias, and marries another wife. He solemnizes the marriage of Cleopatra his daughter with Alexander king of Epirus, and is killed at the nuptials. A. M. 3667.

The battle of Charonea may be said to have enslaved Ant. J. C. 337. Greece. Macedon at that time, with no more than 30,000 soldiers, gained a point which Persia, with millions of men, had attempted unsuccessfully at Plateæ, at Salamis, and at Marathon. Philip, in the first years of his reign, had repulsed, divided, and disarmed his enemies. In the succeeding ones, he had subjected, by artifice or force, the most powerful states of Greece, and had made himself its arbiter; but now he prepares to revenge the injuries which Greece had received from the Barbarians, and meditates no less a design than the destruction of their empire. The greatest advantage he gained by his last victory* (and this was the object he long had in view, and never lost sight of) was to get himself appointed, in the assembly of the Greeks, their generalissimo against the Persians. In this quality he made preparations, in order to invade that mighty empire. He nominated, as leaders of part of his forces, Attalus and Parmenio, two of his captains, on whose valour and wisdom he chiefly relied, and made them set out for Asia Minor

But whilst every thing abroad was glorious and happy for Philip,† he found the utmost uneasiness at home; division and trouble reigning in every part of his family. The ill temper of Olympias, who was naturally jealous, choleric, and vindictive, raised dissensions perpetually in it, which made Philip almost out of love with life: not to mention that, as he himself was not a faithful husband, it is said that he experienced, on his wife's part, the infidelity he had so justly deserved. But whether he had a just subject of complaint, or whether it was from fickleness and inconstancy, it is certain he proceeded so far as to divorce her. Alexander, who had been disgusted upon several other accounts, was highly offended at this treatment of his mother.

Philip, after divorcing Olympias, married Cleopatra, niece to Attalus, a very young lady, whose beauty, however, was so exquisite that he could not resist its charms. In the midst of their rejoicings upon occasion of the nuptials, and in the heat of wine, Attalus, who was uncle to the new queen by the mother's side, took it into his head to say that the Macedonians ought to beseech the gods to give them a lawful successor for their king. Upon this Alexander, who was naturally choleric, exasperated at such an insult, cried out.

• Diod. 1. xvi. p. 479.

↑ Plut. in Alex. P 669

Wretch, dost thou then take me for a bastard? and at the same time flung the cup at his head. Attalus returned the compliment; upon which the quarrel grew warmer. Philip, who sat at another table, was very much offended to see the feast interrupted in this manner; and not recollecting that he was lame, drew his sword, and ran directly at his son. Happily the father fell, so that the guests had an opportunity of stepping in between them. The greatest difficulty was, to keep Alexander from rushing upon his ruin. Exasperated at a succession of such heinous affronts, in spite of all the guests could say, concerning the duty he owed Philip as his father and his sovereign, he vented his resentments in this bitter sneer: The Macedonians, indeed, have a captain there, vastly able to cross from Europe into Asia; he who cannot step from one table to another, without running the hazard of breaking his neck! After these words, he left the hall; and taking Olympias, his mother, along with him, who had been so highly affronted, he conducted her to Epirus, and himself went over to the Illyrians.

In the mean time, Demaratus of Corinth, who was connected with Philip by the ties of friendship and hospitality, and was very free and familiar with him, arrived at his court. After the first civilities and caresses were over, Philip asked him whether the Greeks were at peace among themselves? It indeed becomes you, Sir, replied Demaratus, to be concerned about Greece, who have filled your own house with feuds and dissensions. The prince, sensibly affected with this reproach, came to himself, acknowledged his error, and sent Demaratus to Alexander to persuade him to return home.

A. M. 3668. Philip did not lose sight of the conquest of Asia. Ant. J. C. 336. Full of the mighty project which he was revolving in his mind, he consults the gods to know what would be the event of it. The priestess replied, The victim is already crowned, his end draws nigh, and he will soon be sacrificed. Philip hearing this, did not hesitate a moment, but interpreted an oracle in his own favour, the ambiguity of which ought at least to have kept him in some suspense. In order, therefore, that he might be in a condition to apply himself entirely to his expedition against the Persians, and devote himself solely to the conquest of Asia, he despatches with all possible diligence his domestic affairs. After this, he offers up a solemn sacrifice to the gods; and prepares to celebrate, with incredible magnificence, in Ægæ, a city of Macedonia, the nuptials of Cleopatra, his daughter, whom he gave in marriage to Alexander king of Epirus, and brother to Olympias his queen. He had invited to it the most considerable persons of Greece; and heaped upon them every mark of friendship and honour, to testify his gratitude for their having elected him generalissimo of the Greeks. The cities made their court to him in emulation of each other, by sending him golden crowns; and Athens distinguished herself above all the rest by her zeal. Neoptolemus the poet had written, purposely for

that festival, a tragedy, entitled Cinyras,* in which, under borrowed names, he represented this prince as already victor over Darius, and master of Asia. Philip listened to these happy presages with joy; and, comparing them with the answer of the oracle, assured himself of conquest. The day after the nuptials, gaines and shows were solemnized. As these formed part of the religious worship, there were carried in it, with great pomp and ceremony, twelve statues of the gods, carved with inimitable art. A thirteenth, that surpassed them all in magnificence, was that of Philip, which represented him as a god. The hour for his leaving the palace being arrived, he went forth in a white robe; and advanced with a majestic air, in the midst of acclamations, towards the theatre, where an infinite multitude of Macedonians, as well as foreigners, waited his coming with impatience. His guards marched before and behind him, leaving, by his order, a considerable space between themselves and him, to give the spectators a better opportunity of surveying him; and also to show that he considered the affection which the Grecians bore him as his safest guard.

But all the festivity and pomp of these nuptials ended in the murder of Philip; and it was his refusal to do an act of justice that occasioned his death. Some time before, Attalus, inflamed with wine at an entertainment, had insulted, in the most shocking manner, Pausanias, a young Macedonian nobleman. The latter had long endeavoured to revenge the cruel affront, and was perpetually imploring the king to interpose his power. But Philip, unwilling to disgust Attalus, uncle to Cleopatra, whom, as was before observed, he had married after having divorced Olympias his first queen, would never listen to Pausanias's complaints. However, to console him in some measure, and express the high esteem and the great confidence he reposed in him, he made him one of the chief officers of his life-guard. But this was not what the young Macedonian required, whose anger now swelling to fury directs itself against his judge, and he forms the design of wiping out his shame, by imbruing his hands in a most horrid murder.

When once a man is determined to die, he is vastly strong and formidable. Pausanias, the better to put his bloody design in execution, chose the instant of that pompous ceremony; when the eyes of the whole multitude were fixed on the prince; doubtless to make bis vengeance more conspicuous, and proportion it to the greatness of the injury which he had received, and for which he conceived he had a right to make the king responsible, as he had long solicited that prince in vain for the satisfaction due to him. Seeing him therefore alone, in the space which his guards left round him, he advances forwards, stabs him with a dagger, and lays him dead at

* Suetonius, among the presages of Caligula's death, who died in much the same manner as Philip, observes, that Mnester, the Pantomime, exhibited the same piece which Neoptolemus had represented the very day Philip was murdered.