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Title: The historians' history of the world in twenty-five volumes, volume 04 Greece to the Roman Conquest Editor: Henry Smith Williams Release date: September 6, 2017 [eBook #55497] Language: English Credits: Produced by David Edwards and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive) *** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HISTORIANS' HISTORY OF THE WORLD IN TWENTY-FIVE VOLUMES, VOLUME 04 *** Produced by David Edwards and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive) Transcriber’s Note: As a result of editorial shortcomings in the original, some reference letters in the text don’t have matching entries in the reference-lists, and vice versa. THE HISTORIANS’ HISTORY OF THE WORLD [Illustration: GROTE] THE HISTORIANS’ HISTORY OF THE WORLD A comprehensive narrative of the rise and development of nations as recorded by over two thousand of the great writers of all ages: edited, with the assistance of a distinguished board of advisers and contributors, by HENRY SMITH WILLIAMS, LL.D. [Illustration] IN TWENTY-FIVE VOLUMES VOLUME IV--GREECE TO THE ROMAN CONQUEST The Outlook Company New York The History Association London 1904 COPYRIGHT, 1904, BY HENRY SMITH WILLIAMS. _All rights reserved._ Press of J. J. Little & Co. New York, U. S. A. Contributors, and Editorial Revisers. Prof. Adolf Erman, University of Berlin. Prof. Joseph Halévy, College of France. Prof. Thomas K. Cheyne, Oxford University. Prof. Andrew C. McLaughlin, University of Michigan. Prof. David H. Müller, University of Vienna. Prof. Alfred Rambaud, University of Paris. Prof. Eduard Meyer, University of Berlin. Dr. James T. Shotwell, Columbia University. Prof. Theodor Nöldeke, University of Strasburg. Prof. Albert B. Hart, Harvard University. Dr. Paul Brönnle, Royal Asiatic Society. Dr. James Gairdner, C.B., London. Prof. Ulrich von Wilamowitz-Möllendorff, University of Berlin. Prof. H. Marnali, University of Budapest. Dr. G. W. Botsford, Columbia University. Prof. Julius Wellhausen, University of Göttingen. Prof. Franz R. von Krones, University of Graz. Prof. Wilhelm Soltau, Zabern University. Prof. R. W. Rogers, Drew Theological Seminary. Prof. A. Vambéry, University of Budapest. Prof. Otto Hirschfeld, University of Berlin. Baron Bernardo di San Severino Quaranta, London. Prof. F. York Powell, Oxford University. Dr. John P. Peters, New York. Dr. S. Rappoport, School of Oriental Languages, Paris. Prof. Hermann Diels, University of Berlin. Prof. C. W. C. Oman, Oxford University. Prof. I. Goldziher, University of Vienna. Prof. E. C. Fleming, University of West Virginia. Prof. R. Koser, University of Berlin. CONTENTS VOLUME IV GREECE PAGE INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. THE EVOLUTION OF GREEK PHILOSOPHY. By Dr. Hermann Diels xiii CHAPTER XXXVII THE REIGN OF TERROR IN ATHENS (404-403 B.C.) 1 Lysander, 2. Cruelties of the Thirty, 3. The Sycophants, 4. The revolt of Thrasybulus, 10. CHAPTER XXXVIII THE DEMOCRACY RESTORED (403-400 B.C.) 16 The end of Alcibiades, 23. Life at Athens, 25. Aristophanes, 27. Euripides, 30. CHAPTER XXXIX SOCRATES AND THE SOPHISTS (_ca._ 425-399 B.C.) 33 The prosecution of Socrates, 36. Plato’s account of the last hours of Socrates, 39. Grote’s estimate of Socrates, 45. CHAPTER XL THE RETREAT OF THE TEN THOUSAND (404-399 B.C.) 49 The affairs of Persia, 49. Xenophon’s account of Cunaxa, 53. The retreat, 59. Xenophon’s picture of the hardships, 61. End of the march, 63. The meaning of Xenophon’s feat, 64. CHAPTER XLI THE SPARTAN SUPREMACY (480-240 B.C.) 66 Grote’s comparison of Spartan and Athenian rule, 72. Harshness of the Spartan hegemony, 76. Degeneracy of Sparta, 77. CHAPTER XLII SPARTA IN ASIA (400-394 B.C.) 82 War of Lacedæmon and Elis, 86. Cinadon’s plot, 90. Agesilaus in Asia, 91. Persian gold, 95. War rises in Greece, 96. Lysander’s plot, 99. Agesilaus recalled, 101. CHAPTER XLIII THE CORINTHIAN WAR (394-387 B.C.) 104 Battle of Cnidus, 107. Battle of Coronea, 108. Land affairs of the Corinthian War, 111. The great deeds of Conon, 115. Conon rebuilds the Long Walls, 117. The embassy of Antalcidas, 119. The King’s Peace, 123. CHAPTER XLIV THE RISE OF THEBES (387-371 B.C.) 126 Mantinea crushed, 127. The Olynthian War, 129. The surprise of Thebes, 130. Fate of Evagoras and the Asiatic Greeks, 133. The revolt of Thebes, 135. The second Athenian League, 140. Corcyra, 144. The trial of Timotheus, 148. The congress at Sparta, 151. Athens abandons Thebes, 153. CHAPTER XLV THE DAY OF EPAMINONDAS (371-367 B.C.) 154 Sparta invades Bœotia, 156. Battle of Leuctra, 157. Significance of Leuctra, 159. Jason of Thessaly, 160. Von Stern on the Theban policy, 165. A congress at Athens, 167. Mantinea restored, 167. The Arcadian Revolution, 169. Spartan intolerance of cowardice, 171. The Thebans in the Peloponnesus, 172. Founding of Messene, 175. Athens in league with Sparta, 177. Second invasion of Peloponnesus, 177. Expedition into Thessaly, 180. An embassy to Persia and a congress at Thebes, 182. CHAPTER XLVI WHEN THEBES WAS SUPREME (368-360 B.C.) 185 Joint work of Epaminondas and Pelopidas, 185. The end of Pelopidas, 189. Battle of Mantinea and death of Epaminondas, 191. Xenophon’s account of how Epaminondas fought, 194. Grote’s estimate of Epaminondas, 196. Confusion following Epaminondas’ fall, 199. CHAPTER XLVII THE TYRANTS IN SICILY (410-337 B.C.) 202 CHAPTER XLVIII THE RISE OF MACEDONIA (490-357 B.C.) 208 Early history of Macedonia, 210. Philip, the organiser, 215. Military discipline, 216. Macedonian culture, 217. Olympias, mother of Alexander, 219. The Macedonian phalanx, 220. The waxing of Philip, 221. CHAPTER XLIX THE TRIUMPHS OF PHILIP (359-336 B.C.) 222 Demosthenes, the orator, 222. Æschines, the rival of Demosthenes, 223. The unpopularity of Demosthenes, 224. Philip’s better side, 225. The Sacred War, 227. The First Philippic, 227. Philip and Athens, 229. A treaty of peace, 231. Punishment of the Phocians, 232. The attitude of the Athenians, 232. The Macedonian party, 233. The patriotic party, 234. Philip’s intrigues and the outbreak of war, 235. The Third Philippic, 236. Philip returns to the fray, 237. Siege of Perinthus and Byzantium, 238. Decline of Philip’s prestige; the Scythian expedition, 238. The crusade against Amphissa, 239. Alliance between Athens and Thebes, 241. The armies in the plain of Chæronea, 243. Battle of Chæronea, 245. Philip takes Thebes, 247. Peace of Demades, 248. Philip in Peloponnesus, 249. Political schemes; family broils, 250. The death of Philip, 251. A summing-up of Philip’s character, 253. Grote’s estimate of Philip, 254. CHAPTER L ALEXANDER THE GREAT (336-335 B.C.) 256 Philip and Alexander compared by Justin, 257. Alexander’s youth according to Quintus Curtius, 258. Aristotle as his teacher, 261. Bucephalus, 263. Alexander’s first deeds, 263. Demosthenes ridicules Alexander, 265. Alexander dashes through Greece, 267. Alexander winnows the North, 268. The revolt of Thebes, 269. The fate of Thebes, 271. CHAPTER LI ALEXANDER INVADES ASIA (334 B.C.) 274 Schemes of conquest, 274. The problem and the troops, 276. The size of the army, 277. The phalanx and the cavalry, 278. The light troops, 280. The condition of the Persian Empire, 281. The entry into Asia, according to Arrian, 283. Battle of the Granicus, 284. Courage and danger of Alexander, 287. Effects of Alexander’s victory, 289. CHAPTER LII ISSUS AND TYRE (334-332 B.C.) 290 Halicarnassus, 292. Gordium, 295. Darius musters a new host, 297. Darius at Issus, 299. Preparing for battle, 301. Battle of Issus, 302. Flight of Darius, 303. From Issus to Tyre, 305. The siege of Tyre, 307. CHAPTER LIII FROM GAZA TO ARBELA (332-331 B.C.) 312 The siege of Gaza according to Arrian, 312. Incidents from Quintus Curtius, 314. Alexander in Egypt, 315. The visit to Ammon, 317. Alexander leaves Egypt, 318. Battle of Arbela, 320. CHAPTER LIV THE FALL OF PERSIA (331-327 B.C.) 329 The entry into Babylon described by Quintus Curtius, 329. At the border of Persia, 331. A shepherd guide, 332. The released captives; sacking Persepolis, 334. Curtius tells of the enormous loot, 335. Curtius describes an orgy and the burning of Persepolis, 336. The new meaning of the conquest, 338. The pursuit of Darius, 338. Conspiracies against Alexander, 342. Capture of Bessus, 346. Limit of Alexander’s progress northward, 348. Alexander murders his friend, 348. Remorse of Alexander, 350. Conspiracy of the royal pages, 353. CHAPTER LV THE CONQUEST OF INDIA (327-324 B.C.) 355 The war with Porus, 358. The eastern limit, 360. The march to the West, 362. The brave Mallians, 363. Alexander’s severe wound and the army’s grief, 365. The desert march, 367. Excesses and cruelties described by Curtius, 369. The return of Nearchus, 371. CHAPTER LVI THE END OF ALEXANDER (324-323 B.C.) 375 His projects, 375. The marriage of Greece with Persia, 377. The mutiny, 379. The last expedition, 383. Grief for Hephæstion, 384. To Babylon, 386. Last illness, 390. The death-bed of Alexander, 391. CHAPTER LVII VARIOUS ESTIMATES OF ALEXANDER 393 His vices and virtues (Arrian), 393. His favour with fortune (Ælianus), 394. If Alexander had attempted Rome (Livy), 395. A patriotic estimate of Rome’s greatness, 398. His invincibility (Grote), 399. His meanness (Ménard and Rollin), 401. His evil influence (Niebuhr), 403. His motives (Droysen), 405. His effect on federalisation (Pöhlmann), 407. His heritage (Hegel), 408. Alexander’s true glory (Wheeler), 409. CHAPTER LVIII GREECE DURING THE LIFE OF ALEXANDER (333-323 B.C.) 410 Confederacy against Macedonia, 411. War in Greece, 412. Affairs at Athens, 413. Demosthenes and Æschines, 414. Deification of Alexander; the gold of Harpalus, 416. CHAPTER LIX THE SUCCESSORS OF ALEXANDER (323-232 B.C.) 420 Council at Babylon after Alexander’s death, 422. Perdiccas, Meleager, Eumenes, and the puppet king, 425. The compact, 426. The partition, 427. Alexander’s posthumous plans, 428. Alexander’s funeral described by Diodorus, 430. Alexander’s heirs, 431. Arrhidæus, the imbecile, 431. The Diadochi, 432. The women claimants, 433. Death of Perdiccas, 435. The feats of Eumenes, 436. The empire of Antigonus, 437. Polysperchon _versus_ Cassander, 438. Lysimachus, 441. Cassander in power, 442. The name of “king” assumed, 446. The siege of Rhodes, 447. The fall of Antigonus, 449. Demetrius at large, 450. Death of Cassander; Demetrius wins and loses, 452. Lysimachus, Arsinoe, and Agathocles, 454. Seleucus; Antigonus; the Ptolemies, 455. Ptolemy Ceraunus in Macedonia, 457. Anarchy in Macedonia, 458. Antigonus Gonatas, 459. The Chremonidean War, 460. Pyrrhus’ son takes Macedonia, 461. CHAPTER LX AFFAIRS IN GREECE PROPER AFTER ALEXANDER’S DEATH (323-318 B.C.) 463 The Lamian War, 463. Return of Demosthenes; death of Leosthenes, 466. Leonnatus, 467. Death of Leonnatus; naval war; war in Thessaly, 468. Dissolution of the league, 469. The capitulation, 470. The end of Demosthenes, 470. Grote’s estimate of Demosthenes, 472. Antipater in Greece, 474. The deaths of Antipater and of Demades, 476. Polysperchon and Cassander, 477. Olympias and Eumenes, 478. Imperial edict recalling exiles, 479. Contest at Athens, 480. Intrigues of Phocion, 481. Phocion’s disgrace, 482. CHAPTER LXI THE FAILURE OF GRECIAN FREEDOM (318-279 B.C.) 486 Hellas at peace, 487. Athens under Demetrius; Sparta behind walls, 488. The last acts of Olympias’ power, 490. Ptolemy in Greece, 493. Athens passive and servile, 494. Success of Demetrius in Greece, 497. Battle of Ipsus, 498. CHAPTER LXII THE EXPLOITS OF PYRRHUS (_ca._ 360-272 B.C.) 502 The antecedents of Pyrrhus, 503. The last adventures of Demetrius, 504. The end of Lysimachus, king of Macedon, 505. Death of Seleucus, 506. Invasion of the Gauls, 506. Defence of the temple at Delphi, 507. Pyrrhus and the Romans, 508. Pyrrhus summoned by the Tarentines, 508. Pyrrhus in Sicily; his return to Italy, 510. Magna Græcia subdued by the Romans, 511. Return of Pyrrhus to Macedonia, 512. Expedition of Pyrrhus against Sparta, 512. Death of Pyrrhus, 513. Antigonus Gonatas, 514. CHAPTER LXIII THE LEAGUES AND THEIR WARS (249-167 B.C.) 516 The Ætolians, 516. The Ætolian League, 517. The Achæan League and Aratus of Sicyon, 518. Aratus controls the league, 520. Aratus takes Corinth, 521. Sparta under Cleomenes, 523. Antigonus called in, 524. The Social War, 526. Alliance with Rome, 528. Greek freedom proclaimed, 531. The Ætolians crushed, 531. Greece at the mercy of “friendly” Rome, 533. Rome against Philip, 535. Perseus, king of Macedonia, 537. The humiliation of Greece, 538. CHAPTER LXIV THE FINAL DISASTERS (156 B.C.-540 A.D.) 540 The Macedonian insurrection, 542. The Achæan War, 542. The destruction of Corinth, 545. Greece under the Romans, 546. CHAPTER LXV THE KINGDOM OF THE SELEUCIDÆ (323-65 B.C.) 552 Seleucus, 553. Antiochus Soter, 555. Seleucus Philopator, 559. CHAPTER LXVI THE KINGDOM OF THE PTOLEMIES (323-30 B.C.) 562 Ptolemy Philadelphus, 568. Ptolemy Euergetes, 570. Ptolemy Philopator, 572. Epiphanes, 573. Philometor and Physcon, 573. Roman Interference, 575. Ptolemy Auletes; Cleopatra and the end, 576. CHAPTER LXVII SICILIAN AFFAIRS (317-216 B.C.) 578 Agathocles, 578. Pyrrhus and the Romans, 583. CONCLUDING SUMMARY THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE HELLENIC SPIRIT. By Dr. Ulrich von Wilamowitz-Möllendorff 587 BRIEF REFERENCE-LIST OF AUTHORITIES BY CHAPTERS 614 A GENERAL BIBLIOGRAPHY OF GRECIAN HISTORY 617 [Illustration] THE EVOLUTION OF GREEK PHILOSOPHY WRITTEN SPECIALLY FOR THE PRESENT WORK BY DR. HERMANN DIELS Professor in the University of Berlin. It is a primary law of development that each generation should supplant and supersede that which preceded it. The parents bring forth the child, and when the child has advanced to full maturity they themselves lapse into oblivion; and the same fate overtakes their children and children’s children. So it is with nations. One civilisation rises above the level of the rest, then sinks, yielding place to the fresh vigour of younger nations, to which it bequeaths its heritage of culture. For a while the elder mother-nation is held in remembrance as a teacher and model; but ultimately--when the new generation of nations has grown strong enough to maintain an independent existence--the elder vanishes to return no more. Such a stage we ourselves seem to have reached. The peoples of the Classic Age have long passed away, but in the Renaissance the culture of their time rose again from the dead. A bevy of daughters entered upon the heritage of this mother--Italy, France, England, Germany, and many others--and added to it, each after her own fashion. Then they outgrew the imitation and mere echo of the antique, passing on to express in act an independent culture of their own; and now the time seems to have come when the modern spirit claims absolute liberty of action in every sphere, without the slightest reference to the traditions of antiquity. For the modern technician, the modern naturalist, the modern historian, the modern artist, the modern poet, the ancient world has no message. It is dead--dead past recovery, as we may say. There is, however, one sphere in which it is not dead, where it still imparts fresh stimulus to the minds of men from day to day, in which it is still recognised as the guide to every fresh enterprise. This sphere is philosophy. The last and loftiest height to which thinking humanity can climb is that comprehensive vision of all things which we Germans call _Weltanschauung_, and which the Greeks called _Philosophia_. In speculation of this illimitable range we have made but little advance upon the Greeks; nay, even those most modern of philosophers who, on the basis of biological knowledge, have built up the most modern of all conceptions of the world, are in unconscious agreement with the rudiments of Greek natural science in the sixth century B.C. Let anyone compare the “cosmological perspective” to which Ernest Haeckel has attained in his book _Die Welträthsel_ [_The Riddle of the Universe_] (1900) p. 15, “from the highest point of monistic science yet reached,” with what Anaximandros taught in the reign of Cyrus, and he will perceive with amazement that modern times have hardly gone further by a single step. The eternity, infinity, and illimitability of the Cosmos; the substance thereof, with its attributes of matter and energy, which in perpetual motion occupy the boundless space; perpetual motion itself in its periodic changes of becoming and ceasing to be; the constant progress of decay and destruction in the innumerable celestial bodies which give place to fresh formations of a similar character; the process of biogenesis on our own planet, by which in the course of æons animal life was brought forth, and by which, through gradual metamorphoses, the vertebrates were evolved from its earliest forms, the mammalia from vertebrates, the primary apes from mammalia, and lastly, through progressive evolution, man was brought into being towards the end of the tertiary period--all these propositions had already been recognised and stated in germ by the Greek thinker who lived during the first generation of Greek philosophy. The sum total of the progress made in twenty-five hundred years, that what was then surmised from, rather than disclosed by, an empiric consideration of some few facts, has now been demonstrated in detail by scientific observation. But these main propositions, which the modern scientist regards as his own gains, because he has had to win them afresh by his own toil from the errors of the ancient and mediæval world, are of no great significance when compared with the far greater residuum of questions that still remain unanswered. Du Bois-Raymond, as is well known, described these “world riddles” in the year 1880 as in part unsolved, in part insoluble. They are seven in number: (1) The nature of matter and force; (2) the origin of motion; (3) the first beginning of life; (4) the adaptation of nature to certain ends; (5) the rise of sensation and consciousness; (6) the origin of thought and speech; (7) freedom of will. It is easy to see that, compared with these fundamental questions, which may be summed up in the great question of all, “God and the world,” the whole sequence of cosmic research from Anaximander to Haeckel is merely of secondary importance. It is, as it were, the surface of the matter; and even if, with Goethe, we feel the inadequacy of the apothegm of Haller, the poet and naturalist, “Into the heart of nature no created spirit may penetrate,” yet we cannot but see that as yet we poor mortals are only nibbling at the rind, and that centuries more of labour are needed to penetrate its diamond hardness. Thus everything that has hitherto been achieved is, as it were, a mere prelude to the abstract presentment of cosmic principles, and consequently the rudimentary beginnings of study in this sphere are far less remote from its present condition than is the case in any other department of the intellectual activity of mankind. And hence, even at the present day, the consideration of Greek philosophy is not only the most interesting, but also by far the most directly profitable part of the study of antiquity. No man who has not thoroughly studied the systems of Democritus, Plato, and Aristotle can become a profound philosopher in our own time. “The love of wisdom” was the name which, from the fifth century B.C. onwards, the Greeks bestowed on any kind of intellectual endeavour which was diverted from the practice and directed to the theory of life. The scope of this striving naturally varied in different periods. In the infancy of Greek speculation, _i.e._, in the sixth and fifth centuries B.C., men pored with wide, childlike eyes over the marvels of nature that lay about them and tried to find in natural science the solution of the riddle of existence. Philosophy was then mainly the embodiment of scientific and mathematical research, that is to say, it was what we nowadays call “Science.” A troublous period followed, represented by the Sophists, a time of youthful storm and stress, out of which the mature philosophy of ideas developed towards the end of the fifth century. The term “philosopher” begins to acquire a professional meaning. Side by side with the Sophist, who supplied “culture” in return for money, stood the philosopher, who directed the course of education without remuneration. At first, it is true, this education was confined to morals. But in Plato it proceeded to expand into a study that comprised mathematics, logic, physics, and ethics, as well as politics, forming a pyramid built on the broadest of possible bases and culminating in the idea of Good. By that time a “philosopher” had come to mean one who is capable of grasping the eternal idea (Plato, Rep. VI, 484 A). Next, in the Universal Encyclopædia of Aristotle, this platonic structure is completed and made habitable within and fitted to human requirements. Under him the idea and the term “philosopher” attained its maximum extension. Thereafter both begin to narrow down. The end of the fourth century witnessed the collapse of the Greek state, to the insecure structure of which the philosophers had never been blind. With the fall of the Hellenic municipal system and the rise of the Macedonian sovereignty a new world comes into being, in which the leaders are monarchs and no longer individual citizens. The outlook and sphere of action of the individual is restricted. Men grow to be eminent in practical affairs, experts in the art of living, less eager to solve the riddle of the universe than that of the personal Ego, by withdrawing men from the tumult of external affairs and guiding them into the imperturbable calm of philosophic conviction as into a sure haven. Hence in the systems of the Stoa and of Epicurus and Pyrrho the designation of philosopher assumes the meaning of a counsellor in the conduct of life, who, in the lack of political liberty then prevailing, held up an ideal of liberty within, which no tyrant could menace. In proportion as the sphere of philosophy in the Hellenistic world narrowed to the consideration of the Useful and the Practicable, the sphere of its influence widened. Alexander’s expedition had thrown the East open to Greek civilisation, and the assiduous and subjective temperament of the youth of the Semitic peoples was drawn to the wisdom of the Greeks. An active process of endosmosis and exosmosis set in between the countries of the West and East. During the period from the third to the first century B.C. this interchange created a new civilisation, destined to form the basis of the _Imperium Romanum_ in matters temporal and the _Imperium Christi_ in matters spiritual. But at this period the clear outlines of development tend to become blurred. As the Hellenic nation expands into the Hellenistic peoples, as the national language of Greece becomes the common medium of the East, nay, of the whole civilised world, the eclecticism which had been formed out of certain elements of the old Greek philosophy under the dominant influence of the Stoa gained ground on all sides. In the time of Christ, Greek philosophy is an indispensable requisite of the higher culture, and the university of Athens, with its professors, whose appointment the state soon took upon itself, is the one where the educated Roman and Cappadocian alike must have studied. The Greek private tutor, recommended by the head of some school or other at Athens, becomes a standing institution in Roman families of distinction, and is treated with the contempt due to such a _Græculus_, ranking first among the slaves of the household. Times soon change, however. Under the philosopher Marcus, philosophy gained admission to courtly circles, and presently became indispensable in the conflict with the increasing might of Christianity. After the Christian conception of the world had conquered under Constantine, the university of Athens became the bulwark of Paganism. Neo-Platonism, a new philosophy bred of the enthusiastic temperament of the East, the congenial philosophy of Plato and the erudition of Aristotle, fought the last fight with the courage of despair. But though its champions were, for the most part, superior in courage, moral character, and scientific learning to the bishops whom they withstood, philosophy and the ancient world had played out their part. In the latter end of the period of antiquity the overseer of any craft (as, for example, the overseer of the quarrymen in the _Passio Sanctorum IV Coronatorum_) was called in popular parlance _philosophus_ to distinguish him from the artisans. _Sic transit gloria mundi._ I With the term “philosophy” as our guide, we have made a rapid superficial survey of the progress of the studies it included in these eleven hundred years of development (585 B.C.-529 A.D.). We will now consider in somewhat fuller detail the three phases which cover the Greek epoch proper, _i.e._, the first three centuries, from Thales to Pyrrho (585-270), with a special view to the study of their internal evolution. The Greek nation is almost the last of all the civilised peoples of the ancient world to enter upon the scene of history and bulk largely in the minds of men. The long period during which the Greeks dwelt among their Aryan kindred, fruitful in intellectual progress as their language proves it to have been, has passed utterly out of the historic memory of the race. And yet the beginnings of scientific knowledge must have fallen within this period, in so far as the dim prevision of eternal and perpetual motion dawned upon men’s minds from the observation of the moon (_mēnē_, from the root _mē_, to measure), from chronology, and the consequent observation of cosmic laws. Nor have any other than mythical records come down to us from the first thousand years in which the Hellenes dwelt in the Balkan peninsula, then-future home, side by side with the original inhabitants and other migratory tribes; but from the buildings and monuments which the earth has yielded to Schliemann’s and Evans’ spades we can form some conception of the might of these rulers and the splendour of the knightly life they led. A faint reflection of the Middle Age of Greece has been preserved in the epic poetry of Homer, the most ancient portions of which date back to the year 1000 B.C., while the latest bring us down to the time of Thales, that is to say, to the sixth century. The Homeric bards do not philosophise as the Stoics fancied they did, they look upon life with living eyes in the true artist spirit, and reproduce it “not sickbed o’er with the pale cast of thought.” Only in a few later passages of the _Iliad_ and the _Odyssey_ do we catch strange notes that harmonise ill with that _joie de vivre_ which is the keynote of the epics. We see that in those strenuous days, when the Greeks were bent upon carrying their commerce to the uttermost ends of the earth and satisfying the ever increasing clamour of the populace for food and power, the nation begins to pass over from the light-hearted carelessness of the epic of chivalry to the harsher and more reflective didactic poetry of Hesiod. Indeed, in one of the later passages of the _Odyssey_ (_Nekyia_) we note an evident reflex of the Orphic cosmologies, in which, under the name of a Thracian bard of remote antiquity, a mournful and pessimistic strain of poetry, dealing with sin and penitence, stands contrasted with the optimistic acceptance of the existing order of things which is characteristic of Homer. The forces which brought philosophy, properly so called, to the birth at the beginning of the sixth century were three in number. First, the poetry then extant, which had cast into artless shape a number of speculative observations on the subject of the Cosmos--such as the conceptions of Oceanus encircling the earth, of Zeus dwelling in ether above it, of Tartarus beneath it, and so forth. Nothing but a cool head and a turn for systematisation was needed to convert these images into “ideas” and to combine the latter into a homogeneous and coherent conception. Another service was rendered by the study of geography, mathematics, and astronomy, developed as it had been by the long voyages of Milesians and Phocæans in the Mediterranean after they had supplanted the Phœnicians. A school of navigation came into being at Miletus, which city had successfully opened up the Euxine in the seventh century; and both Thales and Anaximander were trained in it. Miletus, where the trade with Egypt was started about the same time and the establishment of permanent factories like Naucratis taken in hand, likewise constituted the meeting-place of the geometry and astronomy of the Egyptians, whose learning was formerly much over estimated, with the far superior astronomical science of the Babylonians. The reports of mariners, charts, the catalogue of the stars, all combined with Oriental tradition and the unbiassed perspicacity of the Greeks to give the world the first science, _i.e._, research built upon a basis of empiricism, tested by the methods of mathematics and logic, and aiming at a harmonious interpretation of the Cosmos. To give a name to this study the Ionians evolved the idea of _Historia_, which in the sixth century took the place of _Philosophia_; the latter not coming into use until the fifth century. In this place I must mention the third element, although it is not in evidence in the earliest exponents of Ionian philosophy. It is the tendency to mysticism, to abstraction from the world, then beginning to develop in the Orphic school, which has left traces of its influence with ever-increasing distinctness in Anaximander, Pythagoras, Heraclitus, and Empedocles. It favoured the rise of a transcendental idealism which, although we do not find it matured into immaterial conceptions in these first natural philosophers, yet contains the germ of Plato’s dualistic idea of the universe. Not that the curve of development runs in smooth ascent from Thales to Plato; it exhibits the spiral windings inseparable from historic processes, since every new tendency calls forth the antagonistic principle to that which has spent its force, and thus brings about the necessity of reaction in a retrospective sense. Thales, who enjoyed great repute in his native city of Miletus and throughout Asia Minor at the commencement of the sixth century, calls water the beginning of all things. This was no new idea. For before his time poets had spoken of Oceanus, of the origin of the gods, and of the deluge from which the world was born anew. And the infinite sea could not but lie close to the thoughts of a seafaring nation. The novel and genuinely philosophic element in this proposition is rather the monistic endeavour to refer all phenomena to a single cause, to be sought not in heaven but on earth. For that which is taken as the beginning is not Oceanus, or, it may be, Poseidon, as in the older cosmogonies, but this palpable substance of water, out of which all things come and to which they all return. This original matter is indeed supposed to be animated by a divine spirit, but this divinity is not a person. There is no place for it on Olympus. Rather is it the expression of the immanent force which this philosopher recognised in the incomprehensible properties of the magnet, and there called “soul.” This enduing of nature with a soul is characteristic of the infancy of speculation, and hence this Ionic philosophy has also been called Hylozoism (the doctrine of living matter). The monistic impulse, which would bind the world and this single and supposed divine primeval force together, is diametrically opposed to the polytheistic tendency of the popular religion of Greece. Even in the first Greek philosophers this aspiration after unity points forward to monotheism, which was preached by Xenophanes, the Ionian, at the end of this same century. Of all the achievements of Thales his prediction of the eclipse of the sun (May 28, 585) is that which caused the greatest amazement, although its scientific significance is the most trifling of any. For, as the history of astronomy proves beyond controversy, Thales and his whole generation lacked the rudiments of knowledge necessary for the calculation of eclipses, and had not the faintest notion of how they came about. Hence he can only have employed according to a fixed method some such formula as the Chaldeans had gained from empiric observation in calculating their eclipse period of eighteen years and eleven days (_Saros_). The rule only suffices for approximate predictions. As a matter of fact, Herodotus, the earliest witness to this event, states that Thales allowed a margin of a whole year for the occurrence of the eclipse. Thales himself left no written works, and this Ionic _Historia_ first emerges into the full light of day with Anaximander of Miletus, who founded the Ionic school about a generation later. In him the three forces are strongly marked and defined--first the scientific spirit, which impelled him to give visible expression to the geographical ideas of his countrymen by means of a map of the earth’s surface, and to make a systematic description of the heavens with the stationary and revolving celestial bodies. With him originated the conception of the constellations as a system of spheres rotating through and within one another, and it was his mathematical imagination that led him to assume the existence of certain fixed intervals between the revolving spheres, arbitrarily determined as to number, but expressing in their proportion the idea of harmony. Here we have the germ of the speculations of Pythagoras, on which, as is well known, the laws of Copernicus and Kepler are founded. The vein of poetry in the Ionian character is manifest not only in this intuitive perception but in the aptness of his imagery, when he calls these spheres “chariot-wheels,” from the rim of which the fiery flames of the sun, moon, etc., start out like felloes. The scientific element in his system is evident in the manner in which he follows out biologically the idea of Thales concerning water. If all things have at one time been water, then organisms cannot originally have been created as land animals. Hence man, who now comes into the world utterly helpless, has been gradually evolved from pisciform creatures--the first germ of Darwinism. Lastly the pessimistic mysticism which had lately arisen is clearly manifest in him. When he regards the origin of all individual existences as a wrong committed by them in separating themselves from the All-One, we can only understand him by referring to Orphic religious ideas, in which birth is looked upon as a decline and fall from the blissful seats of the gods and earthly life is represented as a vale of misery. Death is consequently the penalty which the individual pays for his presumption, whether the individual be a man or a celestial body. For the earth and all other Cosmoi are doomed to extinction in an “Infinite” which corresponds to the ancient idea of Chaos, and, like that, is not conceived of as a vacuum but as matter in an undefined form. This alternation of creation and annihilation, this perpetual motion, anticipates the eternal flux of Heraclitus of Ephesus, who at the end of the sixth century and the beginning of the fifth, transformed the teaching of Anaximander into keener dialectics. In comparison with this Ephesian thinker the successors of Anaximander at Miletus and whatsoever following they had down to the end of the fifth century sink into total obscurity. Before turning our attention to Heraclitus, however, we must first consider the man who transplanted the Ionic _Historia_ from Ionia to Italy and there elaborated both the scientific and mystic side of it with marvellous assiduity--that is, Pythagoras. Pythagoras left Samos about the year 530, and turned his steps towards Croton in lower Italy, where he found virgin soil for his labours. The mathematical foundation upon which the Ionic school is based attains an excessive predominance with Pythagoras. Epoch-making maxims are associated with his name, and probably not without good reason. But the speculative tendency of the Ionic mind prompted him to set up number itself as a principle; the Infinite of Anaximander being conceived of arithmetically as the Uneven, _i.e._, that which cannot be divided by two. Since the Even and Uneven alone co-exist, the sacred Three is compounded of Unity and Duality, as is also the Four (_tetraktys_), the root of Being. By simply adding these first four numbers together the Decas (1 + 2 + 3 + 4 = 10) is obtained. The cosmos is made to consist of ten celestial bodies, corresponding to this Decas, by the addition of the heaven of the fixed stars as an outermost crust, and the earth and the “anti-earth” (_antichthon_) containing the central fire, at the heart of it. The earth and other stars moved round this centre, and here we have the first glimpse of the modern conception which explains the apparent diurnal motion of the heavens by the rotation of the earth. This rudimentary idea, as elaborated by later Pythagoreans, and particularly by Aristarchus of Samos in the Alexandrine period, constitutes the first starting-point we can assign to the Copernican system of the universe. Pythagoras made the astounding discovery that the harmonic intervals of the seven-stringed lyre can be reduced to simple rational proportions (the octave = 1:2, the fifth 2:3, the fourth 3:4, the whole tone 8:9). He then sought for a like scheme in the harmony of the spheres, and, as the geometric habit of the Greek mind converted these arithmetical relations into lines and planes, the whole process by which the universe came into existence seemed to be a sum in arithmetic. The strong tinge of mysticism which Pythagoras had brought with him from the Orphic influences of his native land to his new home in Italy served as a wholesome corrective to this exaggerated rationalism. Every religious sect thrives better in a colony than in the mother-country, as is demonstrated in the case of William Penn and many others. The aristocratic and religious league which Pythagoras founded at Croton prospered mightily, and presently the whole of lower Italy and Sicily was covered with branches of the order. Its religious ideas, particularly that of the transmigration of souls, were not new, although they have been claimed as peculiarly Pythagorean. Orphic mysticism had adopted in precisely the same fashion the notion of the fall of the spirit and its purification by transmigrations of all kinds into the bodies of men and animals. But the earnestness with which noble-minded men lived conformably to these ideas in matters of practice and brought them into connection with the results of scientific research strongly impressed the ancient world; and the close freemasonry which linked Pythagoreans from every quarter with one another set forth an ideal of manly friendship which served as a model for the institution of the Academy and similar philosophic societies. But the too strongly marked political complexion of these Pythagorean societies contained the seed of their destruction. At the end of the sixth century and the beginning of the fifth the aristocratic principle was everywhere on the decline, and in Italy itself the Pythagoreans were attacked on democratic grounds by Xenophanes of Colophon, who ridiculed the aristocratic physical sports in which even distinguished Pythagoreans (such as Milo) indulged, and vaunted the intellectual sport of his own _Sophia_. The said wisdom, it must be confessed, was of a negative rather than a positive character. Xenophanes attacked Homer, the Bible of the ancients, in verses of fierce satire, showing the gods as there depicted to be examples of every kind of immorality. By the unparalleled vigour with which he transferred the monistic tendency of Ionic rationalism to the religious problem, he, first of all Greeks, originated the monotheistic conception of the Deity, which none of the later philosophers ventured to maintain with such unflinching boldness in face of the polytheism of the vulgar herd. To the aristocratic submission to authority in matters of belief required by the Pythagoreans this democratic philosopher opposed the prerogative of doubt, and he has consequently been lauded by the sceptics of all ages as their standard-bearer. At this stage of physical observation, indeed, doubt sets in concerning natural objects. Xenophanes discovers that the rainbow is an optical illusion. He promptly generalises in his scepticism; the sun and the other stars are nothing but fiery exhalations. This assumption will lead to further results among his Eleatic friends. Meanwhile in the mother-country speculation advanced with huge strides. Heraclitus, a descendant of the royal dynasty of Ephesus, withdrew from his democratic fellow-citizens into haughty isolation. Instead of concerning himself with the scientific gossip which tended to make the Ionic _Historia_ lose itself in detail, he laid stress upon the vast concatenation of things. He made the fundamental laws of thought his starting-point, in place of the principles of mathematics. The selection of physical propositions which he deduced poetically from his observations of nature are far more than mere natural symbolism. Fire, constantly transformed into water and earth and as constantly exhaling upwards to the celestial fire, is to him a type of the perpetual change of phenomena that veils the eternal and immutable Law (_logos_), identical in everything but name with the Harmony of the Pythagoreans, which expresses itself in numbers eternally the same. The law of man feeds, he says, upon the divine law manifesting itself in fire. Here we have the germ of the vast scheme of law which binds God and the world, physics and morals, into a compact entity in the Pantheism of the Stoic philosophy. Since he places fire and soul upon the same footing, it follows that human physiology and psychology are explicable by the same formula, to which he likewise ingeniously adapts the Orphic ideas. Thus Heraclitus has exercised great influence upon succeeding generations, and Hegel’s system avowedly leans upon him. Equally great is the influence of Parmenides, the Kant of the ancient world. Descended from an Ionian family of rank which had taken refuge at Elea in Italy at the time of the occupation of Phocæa (560), he carries on the tradition of the philosophic poetry of Xenophanes, whose Pantheistic Monism he defends in acute polemics against the “two-headed” Heraclitus. Being--one, eternal, indivisible, immutable, unchangeable--is alone intellectually conceivable. All beside--multiplicity, divisibility, mobility, variability--is logically inconceivable and therefore non-existent. Reason (_logos_) is consequently the measure of all things. His system is abstract and logical to absurdity, but his postulate that this monistic Being must be bounded like a globe that is equally closed in all directions reminds us that we are still in the age of physics. In him the scepticism of Xenophanes hardens into the assertion that everything which contravenes his logical postulate of the Sole Existent--such as multiplicity, colour, motion, becoming and ceasing to be--is mere illusion. The logical and sceptical bias of the Eleatics is surpassed by the hair-splitting dialectics of Zeno, whose evidences against motion and multiplicity still perplex the thinkers of to-day. On the one hand this precise manipulation of the laws of thought which represents the culminating point of Ionic rationalism redeems the negative Sophism which was beginning to deny the actuality and perceptibility of things themselves (Protagoras, Gorgias), while on the other hand the positive result of this strict definition of the highest conception of Being was to call forth a series of systems which came into existence almost simultaneously, though subject in part to reciprocal influence, a little before the middle of the fifth century. Such was the Doctrine of the Elements taught by Empedocles of Agrigentum, who once more found the idea of the imperishable principle in the fourfold root of Being (the four elements) and brought about the Heraclitic alternation of the external world by the introduction of the two polar forces of love and hate. The idea of the Element in endless subdivision (which could not be evaded in the world-process of Empedocles) and in endless diversity of quality was strongly brought out by Anaxagoras the Ionian in his _homoiomere_. To this chaos he opposed the thinking and directing reason (_nous_) as a distinct existence, thus definitely breaking with the idea of a hylozoistic union of matter and force, which had already threatened to go to pieces in the systems of Heraclitus and Parmenides, and setting forth the positive dualism of God and the world, _i.e._, of the Universal Reason working towards predetermined ends and the blind chaotic mass of matter. More important than either of these two is Leucippus of Miletus, the founder of the atomistic theory, who, as Theophrastus rightly asserts, starts from the position of Parmenides. For he finds the homogeneous, eternal, complete, and indivisible, unchangeable Existence, to which no quality can be ascribed, in the “atom,” and solves the difficulties which arose for the Eleatics out of the idea of multiplicity by assuming the existence of an infinite number of such units. Hence results a mechanical interpretation of nature, which proved of all ancient systems the most serviceable for the elucidation of physical and physiological facts. By explaining sensory impressions by mechanical transmission from object to subject, he propounds the first theory of sensory perception, and since, in consequence of this assumption, he regards such qualities as colour, taste, etc., as subjective sensory impressions to which atoms in different arrangements correspond objectively, he lays the foundation of a distinction between primary and secondary qualities which has not been rightly appreciated until modern days. Generally speaking, the value of the Leucippic theory has only been recognised since the Renaissance. For although Democritus of Abdera extended his master’s admirable system to fresh departments of knowledge, established it more firmly by combating the sensualism of Protagoras and other theories arising from a misunderstanding of Leucippus, and, above all, brought it to a high pitch of mathematical and notional exactitude, yet the atomistic school which continued to exist at Abdera till into the fourth century has passed almost utterly out of mind. Plato ignored it, although he adopted many of its theories indirectly; Aristotle alone made use of it, though not as regards the main points of its teachings; and Epicurus, who borrowed from it almost the whole of his theoretical science, by this very absorption played the chief part in the destruction of the Abderite writings, the greatest loss that science has ever suffered. How can we explain this astounding disregard of atomistic philosophy? In some degree by the fact that Leucippus settled in the barbarous north, far away from Athens, which had grown since the Persian wars to be more and more the _prytaneion_, or central focus of warmth to Hellas, and drew all talent to itself from every quarter; and further, from the fact that the natural science which was dominant in the sixth century and the beginning of the fifth--and was regarded, indeed, as the only legitimate kind of scientific thought--lost its hold on men’s minds towards the middle of the fifth century. We have evidence of this in Eleatism, which, with Zeno and Melissus, devoted itself to purely dialectical questions and abandoned the interpretation of nature. We have evidence of it, again, in Empedocles, who in his second series of didactic poems (_Katharmoi_) flings himself into the arms of Orphic mysticism; and in his pupil, Gorgias, who proceeded from physics to nihilism and thence to mere superficial rhetoric. We have the strongest proof of all in Democritus himself, who embraced inductive logic, æsthetics, grammar, and ethics within the range of his studies as well as the old questions of physics. Thus during the Peloponnesian War the way was prepared for the new epoch which was performed with Athens for a stage, and Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle for heroes. II Socrates, the Athenian, brought philosophy, as Cicero says, from heaven to earth; that is to say, in place of one-sided speculation upon nature he pursued an equally one-sided study of ethics. In his practical, matter-of-fact way he availed himself of what Eleatic ontology had acquired in order to settle the fundamental ideas of morality and to demonstrate the possibility of scientific proof in face of the nihilistic fallacies of sophistry which despaired of both. So much we may accept as certain from received accounts. All the details of his teaching are wrapped in doubt, for we possess no historical account of it, but merely works of an apologetic character, in which liberal and justifiable advantage is taken of the prerogatives of fiction. Neither Plato nor Xenophon (the latter of whom did not take up his pen until after a superabundant crop of Socratic literature had come into being) can be accepted as historic evidence without further ado. Nevertheless both the disciples of Socrates and his opponents, Aristophanes and Spintharus (the father of Aristoxenus), bear witness to the extraordinary personality of the man. The rights of the individual were not recognised until the fifth century. The atomistic theory of Leucippus and Democritus sees the Eternal and Constant not in the All-One of Xenophanes and Parmenides, but in the individual. The philosophy of the Sophists breaks the bonds of authority, and in the motto “Man (the individual) is the measure of all things,” Protagoras sets up the charter of subjective inclination. This charter Socrates adopts, but he opposes to the liberty of the individual will the counteracting force of obedience to the dictates of the individual conscience. But conscience, as the German and Latin name for it alike imply, means knowledge. A man should therefore act upon his own judgment, but only in so far as his action is founded upon norms scientifically determined. Thus Socrates reads a deeper meaning into the admonition of the Delphic god, “Know thyself,” by recognising the independence of the will. Inasmuch as traditional usage and the law of the state are thus tacitly set aside (and on this point Aristophanes judged more correctly in his caricature than the apologists Plato and especially Xenophon will admit) Socrates is the preacher of a new private morality which traverses the public morality of classic antiquity. His death sentence is so far intelligible, though it remains an act of crude, reactionary violence. The greatness of soul, so far beyond the ordinary level of mankind, which, according to all accounts, the philosopher displayed at the near prospect of death, wrought upon a far wider circle than that of his disciples and contemporaries. His martyrdom set the seal upon the victory of the Ideal philosophy in Athens. Socrates himself represents a complete individuality, hence his method of education has been of service to individualities the most dissimilar. What contrasting types do we find in Xenophon, the bigoted and stupid cavalry officer; and Plato, the witty and profound thinker; the cynic Antisthenes full of the pride of beggary, and the frivolous courtier Aristippus! They all portrayed themselves rather than their master in their writings, and yet each one of them has in some way or other his part in him. Of all these disciples of Socrates, two only have influenced the afterworld, Antisthenes and Plato, Athenians both, the former a plebeian and founder of the philosophy of the proletariat, the latter, sprung from an old and noble family, an aristocrat of the purest water in all his philosophic ideas. Antisthenes carried the practical and matter-of-fact temper of his master to extremes. Virtue with him is a question of character, and therefore scorns empty words and learning. Logic and mathematics are superfluous, virtue is the only good, vice the only evil; everything else is a matter of indifference. This meagreness of theory is made good by strength of will. Force of character, freedom from the prejudices of conventional custom, conventional religion or conventional government--these are what distinguish the true freeman, the man free in soul, from the slave. The impression produced by this king in rags in the midst of that age of decadence was striking beyond belief. He with his barking voice seemed to be the warning cry of the proletarian admonishing men to return to nature and to simplicity of life. His acute and witty writings were gladly read. His school, which can show one disciple of world-wide celebrity in the person of Diogenes, was gradually merged into the Stoa, which owes to Cynicism the popular tone of its influential system of ethics. Since the birth of Christ, the Cynic has come to life again, as of old in the guise of the mendicant preacher, proclaiming the gospel of renunciation and holding up the mirror to the corruption of the age. This new Cynicism was one of the most important precursors of the Christian apostolate. It awoke once more in the age of the Renaissance, finding its wittiest exponent in Montaigne, in whose steps J. J. Rousseau afterwards trod. In him we have the best typical example of the strength and weakness of this anti-scientific movement. Plato, the antithesis of Antisthenes, continued in a direct line the thread of Athenian philosophy. He accomplished, in the widest sense of the term, the task which Socrates had only begun--that of establishing science, now discredited by the Sophist, on a new basis. We are but imperfectly acquainted with the life of Plato and the phases of his development, for the chronology of his dialogues has not been determined up to this time, either absolutely or relatively, and it is a matter of doubt how far their artistic intention admits of a complete exposition of his system. For Plato’s true work was not his literary productions, which he himself regarded as of secondary importance and which obviously reproduce only a fraction of his researches and speculations, but his Academy, in which, from the eighties of the fourth century onwards, he gathered together the ablest scholars from amongst the youth of Greece for study and life in community. If all the transactions of this Academy had been preserved (like the information Aristotle gives us concerning the latter years), it may be that we should be able to trace distinctly the development of this wonderful man. For Plato is both the most gifted and the most complicated personality of Greek antiquity, and the depths and recesses of his nature were not wholly penetrated by his intimate friends, not even by Aristotle; how much less by us of this latter day. What we do possess is, however, amply sufficient to indicate at least his place in this summary. If from the ranks of the Greek thinkers we have so far considered, we choose out the most eminent leaders and mark the lines of connection between them, we shall see how they all converge to Plato. He is the focus of ancient philosophy, whither all that went before him tends, and whence bright light and warmth stream forth upon posterity down to our own day. The range of his achievements alone is enough to make this evident. Like the Ionians his grasp embraces cosmology, physics, and anthropology. Like the Pythagoreans he pursues the study of mathematics with ever increasing devotion, presumably as the basis of his speculations. Like Xenophanes he enters the school of the ancient Orphic Mysticism, and in the _Timæus_ exalts it into a theology culminating in Monotheism. Like the Eleatics he ponders the problems of ontology. Like Heraclitus he inquires into the eternal flow of genesis; he ponders on the ideals of culture and the political theories of the Sophists, he wrestles with the ideal method of Socrates, he strives with hostile philosophers of the Socratic school on this hand and on that (Aristippus, Euclides, and Antisthenes), and, lastly, he strives with himself as his speculation develops more and more along theological and mathematical lines. For, as the genuine servant of Truth, Plato regards himself up to old age as in process of growing and learning. Nothing is so hateful to him as Dogmatism. Nevertheless there are so many opinions to which he held with unwavering constancy that we are probably justified in speaking of the system of Plato. At the centre of it lies what has crystallised in more living shape out of the dry conceptions of the Socratic method--the domain of ideas. Even as Parmenides perceived Being in the eternal All-Existent, accessible to Reason alone, so Plato sees the being of individual things in that which pertains to them in common and as such can be grasped by the Reason. But even as the Eleatic “One” exists even apart from its recognition as an objective being, so these eternal and unchangeable archetypes (_ideai_) live in and by themselves as objective essences which exist wholly apart from the individual objects which partake of their form. These archetypes, like the Eleatic All-Existent, bear the name of unit (monad), only in Plato’s scheme there are many such monads, and their unchangeableness does not exclude the idea of causation. Thus his “ideas” are the “units” of Parmenides in multiplicity and the “conceptions” of Socrates endued by metaphysics with the breath of life. To Socrates the idea of Good and of Virtue lay at the heart of his teaching, and thus the preponderance of the idea of Good is confirmed to his pupil, and in its theological elaboration this abstract idea is converted into the Supreme Reason, the first cause of Being, which is identical with the Deity. As to the Eleatics, the external world was an illusion of the senses, and in any case a thing irrational, so matter and the world of phenomena which occupies the middle place between matter and ideas is hard to grasp, and Plato’s notion of the World-Soul which hovers between the two is as contradictory and obscure as that of the human soul. For with this gifted poet-philosopher there is much that tarries on the threshold of consciousness, and fails to struggle into clear light, a circumstance that harmonises with his own teachings, which find clearness and singleness of purport in the Eternal and Divine alone, obscurity and ambiguity in the intermediate terrestrial sphere of genesis, and utter darkness and inconceivability in the lower sphere of matter and non-existence. These three stages are repeated in his theory of the soul, which from desire rises to courage and ultimately to reason. His ethics and politics, which according to his Hellenic ideas are one and the same, are calculated for three classes of humanity--the iron, the silver, and the golden. The last two, the military and learned classes, are the only ones taken into account in the educational system of his ideal state; for the proletariat there is no need to be concerned, although Antisthenes and his successors regarded this very class as the only one capable of genuine philosophy. But Plato, like the aristocrat he was, has in view an elect type of humanity, exalted by exceptional intelligence above the brute multitude and the solid middle-class element and called by philosophy, _i.e._, the doctrine of ideas, to the helm of the ideal state. The teaching of the Sophists had abolished law. Plato likewise knows no law on the lofty level of his ideal state. But the constraint of law seems superfluous where each individual is trained to be the ideal man. Forced by bitter experience to moderate his demands upon human nature and the state towards the end of his life, he sketched in the _Laws_, a model state on the basis of the old established system of government. But this system, like the metaphysics of his old age, seems, as it were, a desertion of his ideals. All that Plato achieved was the education of a race of pupils in his Academy who far surpassed the common standard of learning and morals, and who, though unable to save the state, yet maintained a high standard of knowledge and an ideal of morality for mankind in the midst of a corrupt society. The greatest of these Academicians is Aristotle of Stagira, who displayed a versatility and thoroughness of research which appears absolutely incomprehensible in our eyes. Like Plato, he steadfastly held that knowledge is never complete, but that truth is to be found by unremitting persistence in inquiry. This is probably the reason why he gave the world some dialogues adapted to the public taste, and with the help of some of his pupils accumulated and published collections of historico-philological and scientific matter in an unpretentious form; but the systematic lectures in which he propounded to the more advanced followers of his school the results of his speculations and of his wide empirical observation, together with a critical treatment of his predecessors, were never published by him. He worked at these papers his whole life long, and many of the didactic writings which were edited by his pupils after his death, and which are all we possess of the whole body of Aristotle’s works, bear evident traces of gradual growth, correction, and amplification. In a sketch like the present it is impossible to give so much as a summary of the contents of this admirably arranged encyclopædia, which ranked as the richest storehouse of every kind of empiric and speculative science from the beginning of the Christian era down to modern times. The essential points in which his life-work makes an advance on that of Plato are as follows: Plato never went so far as to reduce his great discoveries and intuitions in every department of science to a complete and connected whole, being averse, on scientific and ethical grounds alike, from the dogmatic definition inseparable from any systematic treatise. This Aristotle did, dividing the whole body of philosophy under three principal heads (theoretical, practical, and poetical) and distinguishing subdivisions (logic, physics, metaphysics, ethics, and politics, and so forth) within these divisions by strongly marked lines of demarcation and methods rigorously exact. He is a Platonist in all things and feels himself so to be. Even where he displays most independence, as in the development of syllogisms or in biology, it is impossible to overlook his indebtedness to the bold speculations of the master. If the whole work of Plato’s life and of his scholars between 388 and 348 had been preserved to us, the ultimate connection between Aristotle and the researches of the Academy would probably be even more evident than it is. Nevertheless there is a marked difference between the speculations of these two great philosophers. Plato wholly dissevered the Universal and Essential in things from the Terrestrial and placed it in a heaven beyond the earth. Aristotle repudiates this transcendentalism all along the line. The Universal cannot exist without the archetype, the essence must be immanent in it. Hence the individual is the only true Substantive, containing Substance and Matter. This opposition of opinion concerning “Universalia” is, as is well known, the starting-point of mediæval Scholasticism (Nominalism, Realism). The motion of passive substance towards the active form, _i.e._, the realisation of the Possible, leads up to the idea of development, of genesis (though not, indeed, in the modern sense) on which Plato’s speculations had made shipwreck, and passes over Plato’s rigid Eleatism to join hands with Heraclitus, the philosopher of change, with whom Aristotle sees the ultimate cause of all motion and all things in the Deity, itself as eternal as the world, which “yearns towards It as the bridegroom towards the bride.” Thus soul, too, is the pattern of the body, hence the purpose of its being. The body is but the instrument (_organon_) of the soul. Thus Aristotle first coins the name and idea of organic being and draws a sharp distinction between these animate creatures (plants, animals, and man) and inanimate nature. In ethics and politics his speculation treads in the footsteps of Plato, save that, in this province of thought also, he mitigates the uncompromising rigourism of the master by his innate bias towards the historically-established and practically-possible, and turns it to more profitable uses. The ethico-political speculations of both are, however, adapted to the aristocratic class at that time dominant in Greece. Alexander, the pupil of Aristotle, conquered the East during his master’s life-time, but the philosopher’s opinion that the newly acquired continent should be governed by other laws than those of Hellas was not practically feasible. His ethics failed him utterly in face of the new political situation thus created. III At this juncture the cosmopolitan Cynicism, which had outgrown the narrow particularism of Hellenism as early as the time of Antisthenes, and the Stoicism which was built upon its foundation later on, proved the form best fitted to the times. Zeno, sprung of Phœnician blood and brought up in Cyprus, that is on semi-Asiatic soil, elaborated this theory of life at Athens, whither he came shortly after the death of Aristotle (about 320). After the dualism that had prevailed from Anaxagoras to Plato and Aristotle, in which God and the World were set over against one another as antagonistic principles, Zeno’s theory harks back to the monistic tendency of the Ionic period. Like that, it is realistic, nay, grossly materialistic, in contrast to the Idealism of Athenian philosophy. The result is a consistent Pantheism in which soul and body represent the analogon to God and the World. Both are of the same essential nature, and only temporarily divided by transitory differentiation of manifestation. Zeno’s morality is rigorous, and aims not at the moderation of the passions (like that of Plato and Aristotle) but at their extirpation. The inexorable law that holds the world and man in bonds from which there is no escape, exacts obedience, and to render it voluntarily is virtue. Since the main object of the Stoic school is the training of the will, and since wisdom as such is only a means to an end, the dogmatic form that corresponds to Oriental modes of thought and the despotic system of contemporary government prevails throughout its teachings. Hence we can understand how this somewhat coarse, wire-drawn, as it were, but effective form of philosophy dominates the whole world from this time forward till about the second century A.D. In essentials it represents a revival of Heraclitism, just as the antithetical philosophy of Epicureanism, which prevailed for the same length of time, is in essence reminiscent of the Abderitic system. Epicurus (born 342) was the son of an Athenian, but born at Samos. Thus he had opportunities of making himself acquainted with the philosophy of Democritus, which was more highly esteemed in Ionia than at Athens. He did not care for learning for its own sake, however, but for the sake of its practical application. In this respect, as also in his consistent materialism, he is closely akin to the Stoic school. In dogmatic positiveness and immutability Epicurus far surpasses even the Stoic philosophy. With him the main consideration is a mode of life which induces a tranquil cheerfulness of temper by the refusal to admit all disquieting thoughts (as of death, immortality or divine punishment) and troublesome passions, and by which his followers, while here below, become partakers of the felicity of the gods. This quietist philosophy harmonised with the ideals of life which obtained at that period, and the ardent exaltation of friendship among this free-thinking fellowship and their ideal of human freedom and dignity atone in some degree for the hollowness of their theory of life. Finally Scepticism takes the form of a school in Greece with Pyrrho, who died in the same year as Epicurus, 270 B.C. He, too, is only solicitous for tranquillity of mind, but he does not win it by dogmatic faith in this system of doctrine or that, but in believing nothing whatever, in thinking nothing right and nothing important. This thorough-going scepticism is bound to doubt even itself. As a result it neutralises itself and thus marks the spontaneous dissolution of Hellenic philosophy. [Illustration] [Illustration: THE ACROPOLIS OF ATHENS] CHAPTER XXXVII. THE REIGN OF TERROR IN ATHENS Desolate Athens! though thy gods are fled, Thy temples silent, and thy glory dead, Though all thou hast of beautiful and brave Sleep in the tomb, or moulder in the wave, Though power and praise forsake thee, and forget, Desolate Athens, thou art lovely yet! --WINTHROP MACKWORTH PRAED. [Sidenote: [404 B.C.]] In the capitulation on which Athens surrendered, so far as its terms are reported by Xenophon, no mention appears to have been made of any change which was to take place in its form of government; and, if we might believe Diodorus, one article expressly provided that the Athenians should enjoy their hereditary constitution. This is probably an error; but if such language was used in the treaty it was apparently designed rather to insult than to deceive the people; and the framers of the article, who were also to be its expounders, had in their view not the free constitution under which the city had flourished since the time of Solon, but some ancient form of misrule, which had been long forgotten, but might still be recovered from oblivion by the industry of such antiquarians as Nicomachus. It is at least not to be doubted that the Spartan government, if it did not stipulate for the subversion of the democracy, looked forward to such a revolution as one of the most certain and important results of its victory. But it may have believed that its Athenian partisans would be strong enough to effect it without its interference. And we gather from a statement of Lysias, that Lysander, after he had seen the demolition of the walls begun, leaving his friends to complete their work, sailed away to Samos, now the only place in the Ægean where the authority of Sparta was not acknowledged. If this was the case, he had scarcely laid siege to Samos before his presence was required at Athens. Theramenes, Critias, and their associates, wished to give a legitimate aspect to the power which they meant to usurp, and to overthrow the constitution in the name of the people. But they did not think it safe to trust to their own influence for the first step; and though Agis was still at hand, he might not enter so cordially into their views, and did not possess so much weight as Lysander. When therefore a day had been fixed for an assembly to consider the question of reforming the constitution, Lysander was sent for to attend the discussion. Theramenes had undertaken the principal part in the management of the business. He proposed that the supreme power should for the present be lodged with thirty persons, who should be authorised to draw up a new code of laws, which however was to be conformable to the ancient institutions, according to a model framed by Dracontides. LYSANDER The presence of Lysander, and the nearness of the Peloponnesian troops, deterred the friends of liberty from expressing their sentiments on this proposition. But its nature and tendency were clear, and a murmur of disapprobation ran through the assembly. Theramenes treated it with contemptuous defiance; but Lysander silenced it by a graver argument. He bade the malcontents take notice, that they were at his mercy, and were no longer protected by the treaty. The fortifications had not been demolished within the time prescribed, and therefore in strictness of right the treaty was void. Their lives were forfeited and might be in jeopardy, if they should reject the proposition of Theramenes. It was adopted without further hesitation; and a list of the Thirty, of whom ten were named by Theramenes, ten by the Athenian ephors, and ten were nominally left to the choice of the assembly, was received with equal unanimity. The names which it comprised, some of which soon became infamously notorious were: Polyarches, Critias, Melobius, Hippolochus, Euclidas, Hiero, Mnesilochus, Chremo, Theramenes, Aresias, Diocles, Phædrias, Chærilaus, Anætius, Piso, Sophocles (not the poet, who was now dead), Eratosthenes, Charicles, Onomacles, Theognis, Æschines, Theogenes, Cleomedes, Erasistratus, Phido, Dracontides, Eumathes, Aristoteles, Hippomachus, Mnesithides. Besides these a board of Ten was appointed--perhaps by Lysander himself--to govern Piræus. As soon as this affair was despatched, Lysander departed with his fleet to Samos, and the Peloponnesian army evacuated Attica. The Samians, blockaded by land and by sea, were forced to capitulate before the end of the summer; they were permitted to leave the city, but not to carry away any part of their property, except the clothes they wore. These terms might be thought lenient, had they been guilty of any ferocious outrage; but perhaps Lysander did not view their conduct in that light. He was however probably anxious to return home and to exhibit the fruits of his victory to his admiring countrymen, and may have been therefore the more willing to treat with the besieged. When they had withdrawn, he supplied their place with the exiles who had been expelled at various times in the civil feuds of the island, put them in possession of all the property of the vanquished party and appointed a council of Ten, to govern them, and secure their obedience. He then dismissed the allies to their homes, and himself with the Lacedæmonian squadron returned to Laconia. He brought with him the Athenian galleys surrendered in Piræus, the last fragments of that maritime power which he had broken, trophies from the prizes taken at Ægospotami, and 470 talents [£94,000 or $470,000], the remainder of the tribute which he had collected from the Asiatic cities during the absence of Cyrus. But we are inclined to conclude from a story which, though it is not mentioned by Xenophon, is related by several later writers, with circumstances too minute and probable to be rejected, that he had previously sent a larger sum--perhaps not much less than a thousand talents--which he is said to have entrusted to the care of Gylippus, the hero of Syracuse. Gylippus was subject to the same infirmity which had occasioned the disgrace of his father Cleandridas. He could not resist the temptation of embezzling a part of the treasure, was detected and banished, and put an end to his own life by fasting. But even the sum mentioned by Xenophon was probably the largest that had ever been carried at one time to Sparta. To this were added crowns, and various other presents, which had been bestowed upon Lysander by many cities, which were eager to testify their gratitude and admiration, or to gain the favour of the conqueror. This influx of wealth was viewed with jealousy by several Spartans, who dreaded the effect it might produce both on their foreign policy, and their domestic institutions: the example of Gylippus, though by no means an extraordinary case, might seem to confirm their views: and it appears that a proposal was made to dedicate the whole to the Delphic god. But Lysander and his friends strenuously resisted this measure, and prevailed on the ephors or the people to let the treasure remain in the public coffers. A part was employed to commemorate the triumph of Sparta, and the merits of the individuals who had principally helped to achieve it. Lysander himself adorned one of the Spartan temples with memorials of his two victories, of Notium and Ægospotami; and the first might indeed justly be considered as having opened the way for the last. Tripods of extraordinary size were dedicated at Amyclæ; and at Delphi the statues of the tutelary twins, Zeus, Apollo, Artemis, and Poseidon, forming part of a great group, which comprised those of Lysander, who was represented receiving a crown from Poseidon, his soothsayer Abas, Hermon the Megarian, the master of his galley, and upwards of twenty-nine other persons, Spartans or natives of other cities, who had distinguished themselves at Ægospotami, long attested the gratitude of Sparta towards gods and men. CRUELTIES OF THE THIRTY In the meanwhile the party which had usurped the supreme authority at Athens, had been unfolding the real character of its domination. The first care of the Thirty was to provide themselves with instruments suited to their purposes; they filled all important posts with their creatures. The ephoralty seems to have merged in their own office. The council was already for the most part composed of their own partisans, and needed but few purifying changes; it was now to become the sole tribunal for state-trials. It might be inferred from the language of Xenophon’s history, that the legislative functions which they professed to assume were merely nominal; but we collect from a hint which he drops elsewhere, that they availed themselves from time to time of this branch of their authority, to promulgate laws, or regulations of police, either by way of precaution or of pretext; and that they exercised a censorial control over the occupations and conduct of their subjects. But it is probable that they never intended to publish any code, much less any constitution which might limit their power. Their main object, in which they seem to have been unanimous, was to reverse the policy of Themistocles and Pericles: to reduce Athens to the rank of a petty town, cut off from the sea, without colonies or commerce, incapable of resisting the will of Sparta, or of exciting her jealousy. It seems to have been with the design of signifying this leading maxim of their administration in a sensible manner, that they altered their position of the bema from which the orators addressed the assembly in the Pnyx, so that it might no longer command a view of the sea and of Salamis. They still more distinctly intimated their intention, while they took a step towards carrying it into effect, by selling the materials of the magnificent arsenal, which it had cost a thousand talents to build, for three, to a contractor who undertook to demolish and clear it away. It was perhaps at a later period, and for their own security, that they destroyed the fortresses on the borders of Attica. If they had succeeded in their aims, the history of Athens might now have been said to have closed; for it would have ceased materially to affect the course of events in the rest of Greece, and could have possessed no interest but such as might belong to the internal changes or quarrels of the oligarchy. THE SYCOPHANTS Happily for their country the diversity of their characters was too great to be reconciled even by the sense of their common interest, and proved a source of dissension which became fatal to their power. The men whose ability and energy gave them the predominance over the rest, were hurried by the violence of their passions into excesses from which their more prudent and moderate associates recoiled, but which they were unable to prevent. For some time they preserved a show of decency in their proceedings, and some of their acts were so generally acceptable, that the means, though contrary to law and justice, might to many seem to be sanctified by the end. The first prosecutions were directed chiefly against a class of men who were universally odious, and had contributed more than any others to involve the state in the evils from which they themselves now justly suffered, the informers, or sycophants as they were called at Athens, who had perverted the laws, corrupted the tribunals, and had gained an infamous livelihood by the extortion which they were thus enabled to practise on wealthy and timid citizens, but more especially on foreigners subject to Athenian jurisdiction, who were thus, more than by any other grievance, alienated from the sovereign state. The most notorious of these pests of the commonwealth were eagerly condemned by the council; and their punishment was viewed with pleasure by all honest men. Yet the satisfaction it caused must have been a little allayed in some minds by the reflection, that the form of proceeding by which they were condemned was one under which the most innocent might always be exposed to the same fate. [Illustration: GREEK TERRA-COTTA (In the British Museum)] According to the new regulation the Thirty presided in person over trials held by the council: two tables were placed in front of the benches which they occupied, to receive the balls, or tokens, by which the councillors declared their verdict, and which instead of being dropped secretly into a box, were now to be openly deposited on the board, so that the Thirty might see which way every man voted. These however were not the only cases which they brought before the council, even in the early part of their reign. The persons who before the surrender of the city had been arrested on information, partly procured by bribery, and partly extorted by fear, or by the rack, charging them with a conspiracy against the state, but who had really been guilty of no offence but that of expressing their attachment to the constitution which was now abolished, were soon after brought to a mock trial, and judicially murdered. [Sidenote: [404-403 B.C.]] Even such executions might be considered as among the temporary evils incident to every political revolution: and there were some of the Thirty who did not wish to multiply them more than was necessary to their safety. But the greater number, and above all Critias, did not mean to stop here: and perhaps some signs of discontent soon became visible, which gave them a pretext for insisting on the need of stronger measures, and of additional safeguards. Two of their number, Æschines and Aristoteles, were deputed by common consent to Sparta, to obtain a body of troops to garrison the citadel. The ground alleged was that there were turbulent men whom it was necessary to remove before their government could be settled on a firm basis; and they undertook to maintain the garrison as long as its presence should be required. Xenophon’s language seems to imply that Lysander had by this time returned to Sparta; if so, upwards of six months had now elapsed from the surrender of the city. Lysander, whether present or absent, exerted his influence in their behalf, and induced the ephors to send the force which they desired, under the command of Callibius, who was invested with the authority of harmost. His arrival released Critias and his colleagues from all the restraints hitherto imposed on them by their fears of their fellow citizens. They courted him with an obsequiousness proportioned to the wantonness of the tyranny which they hoped to exercise with his sanction and aid. The footing on which they stood with him is well illustrated by a single fact. An Athenian named Autolycus, of good family and condition, who in his youth had distinguished himself by a gymnastic victory, had in some way or other offended Callibius, who, according to the Spartan usage, raised his truncheon to strike him. But Autolycus, not yet inured to such discipline, prevented the blow by bringing him to the ground. Lysander, it is said, when Callibius complained of this affront, observed that he did not know how to govern freemen. He however understood the men with whom he had principally to deal; for the Thirty soon after gratified him by putting Autolycus to death. In return for such deference he placed his troops at their disposal, to lead whom they would to prison: and now the catalogue of political offences was on a sudden terribly enlarged. The persons who were now singled out for destruction, were no longer such only as had made themselves odious by their crimes, or had distinguished themselves on former occasions by their opposition to the ruling party, but men of unblemished character, without any strong political bias, who had gained the confidence of the people by their merits or services, and might be suspected of preferring a popular government to the oligarchy under which they were living. Xenophon seems to believe that Critias was inflamed with an insatiable thirst for blood by the remembrance of his exile. But it would appear that ambition and cupidity, rather than resentment, were the mainsprings of his conduct, and that he calculated with great coolness the fruits of his nefarious deeds. Nor was it merely political jealousy that determined his choice of his victims; the immediate profit to be derived from the confiscation of their property was at least an equally powerful inducement. It is uncertain to which of these motives we should refer the execution of Niceratus, the son of Nicias, who shared his uncle’s fate, but may have been involved in it more by his wealth than by his relation to Eucrates. It was perhaps on the like account, rather than because of the services which he had rendered to the people, that Antiphon,[1] who during the war had equipped two galleys at his own expense, was now condemned to death. And it was most probably with no other object that Leon, an inhabitant of Salamis, who seems to have been universally respected, and a great number of his townsmen, were dragged from their homes and consigned to the executioner. The case of Leon is particularly remarkable for the light it throws on the policy of the oligarchs. After the arrival of the Lacedæmonian garrison they had begun to dispense with the assistance of the council; and Leon was put to death without any form of trial. But they did not think it expedient always to employ the foreign troops on their murderous errands; they often used Athenians as their ministers on such occasions, and men who did not belong to their party, for the purpose of implicating them in the guilt and odium of their proceedings. When they had resolved on the destruction of Leon, they sent for Socrates and four other persons, and ordered them to go and fetch him from Salamis. As his innocence was no less notorious than the fate which awaited him, Socrates, on leaving the presence of the Thirty, instead of obeying their commands, returned home. The rest executed their commission. These atrocities soon began to spread general alarm; for no one could perceive any principle or maxim by which they were to be limited for the future; there was on the contrary reason to apprehend that they would be continually multiplied and aggravated. Theramenes, who was endowed with a keen tact which enabled him readily to observe the bent of public opinion, was early aware of the danger into which his colleagues were rushing; and he remonstrated with Critias on the imprudence of creating themselves enemies by putting men to death for no other reason than because they had filled eminent stations, or performed signal services, under the democracy; for it did not follow that they might not become peaceful and useful subjects of the oligarchy, since there had been a time when both Critias and himself had courted popular favour. But Critias contended that they were now in a position which they could only maintain by force and terror; and that every man who had the means of thwarting their plans, and who was not devoted to their interest, must be treated as an enemy. This argument seems for the time to have satisfied Theramenes. But as deeds of blood followed each other with increasing rapidity, and the murmurs of all honest citizens, though stifled in public, began to find vent in private circles, Theramenes again warned his colleagues, that it would be impossible for the oligarchy to subsist long on its present narrow basis. He wished that they might be able to dispense with the foreign garrison, and foresaw that, if they persisted in their present course, they could never safely dismiss it. His advice now produced some effect on them; but they seem to have been alarmed not so much by the danger which he pointed out as by the warning itself. They knew that he was a man who had never adhered to any party which he believed to be sinking, and suspected that he might be meditating to put himself at the head of a new revolution, as in the time of the Four Hundred. And though his character was so generally understood that he had acquired a homely nickname,[2] which expressed the readiness with which he shifted his side, and the dexterity with which he adapted himself to every change of circumstances, still he might again become a rallying-point for the disaffected. To guard against this danger they determined to strengthen themselves by an expedient similar to that which had been adopted by the former oligarchy. They made out a list of three thousand citizens, who were to enjoy a kind of franchise which perhaps was never exactly defined; but one of its most important privileges was, that none of them should be put to death without a trial before the council. All other Athenians were outlawed, and left to the mercy of the Thirty, who might deal as they thought fit with their lives and property. Theramenes objected to the new constitution, both on account of the small number of the privileged body, and its arbitrary limitation, which would show that the selection did not proceed upon any ground of merit. Since they meant to govern by force, it was impolitic, he said, to establish such a disproportion between their strength and that of the governed. His objections were overruled, but not wholly neglected. They perhaps suggested the precaution which was immediately afterwards adopted. Under pretext of a review all the citizens were deprived of their arms, except the knights, and the Three Thousand, who were thus enabled to cope with the rest. The Thirty now believed themselves completely secure, and grew more and more reckless in the indulgence of their rapacity and cruelty. In the low state to which the Athenian finances were reduced, the maintenance of the garrison was a burden which they found it difficult to support; and, among other extraordinary means of raising supplies, it appears that they resorted to the spoliation of the temples. But this was an expedient which probably required some caution and secrecy, and which could not be carried beyond certain limits. One which perhaps appeared both safer and more productive was suggested by Piso and Theognis, two of their number, who observed that several of the resident aliens were known to be ill-affected to the oligarchy, and thus afforded a pretext for plundering the whole class. They therefore made the proposition that each of the Thirty should have one of the wealthy aliens assigned to him, should put him to death, and take possession of his property. Theramenes very truly remarked, that the sycophants who had rendered the democracy odious to many, had never done anything so iniquitous as what was now contemplated by the persons who were used to style themselves the best sort of people, for they had never taken away both money and life; and he apprehended with good reason that this measure would render the aliens generally hostile to the government. But his colleagues, after what they had already done, were not disposed to view this question on the moral side, and, having braved the hatred of their fellow-citizens, they were not afraid of provoking the aliens. The proposition was adopted; and Theramenes was invited to single out his prey with the rest: but he refused to stain his hands with this innocent blood. It was however resolved to begin by taking ten lives; and, for the sake of covering the real motive, two of the victims were to be poor men, who would therefore be supposed to have suffered for some political offence. [Sidenote: [403 B.C.]] Men who were capable of perpetrating such actions could not long endure the presence of an associate who refused to take his full share of their guilt and odium. The colleagues of Theramenes resolved to rid themselves of a troublesome monitor who might soon prove a dangerous opponent. They first endeavoured to communicate their distrust of his designs to the members of the council in private conversation, and then concerted a plan for an open attack on him. But to insure its success they surrounded the council-chamber with a band of the most daring of their younger followers, armed with daggers, which they did not take much pains to conceal. Critias then came forward to accuse Theramenes, who was present. Theramenes made a defence, which, with respect to the charges of Critias, was in most points a satisfactory vindication of his conduct. A murmur of approbation, which ran through the assembly, warned Critias that he could not safely rely on its subserviency for the condemnation of Theramenes; and, after having conferred a few moments with his colleagues, he called in his armed auxiliaries, and stationed them round the railing within which the council sat. He then told the councillors, that he thought he should be wanting in the duty of his station, if he suffered his friends to be misled; and that the persons whom they now saw round them, also declared that they would not permit a man who was manifestly aiming at the ruin of the oligarchy to escape with impunity. Now by virtue of the new constitution none of the Three Thousand could be put to death except by a sentence of the council; but all who were not included in that list might be sent to execution without any form of trial by the Thirty. He therefore declared that, with the unanimous consent of his colleagues, he struck out the name of Theramenes from the list, and condemned him to death.[b] Xenophon gives a vivid picture of the scene that followed: “On hearing this, Theramenes sprang upon the altar of Vesta, and said, ‘But I, gentlemen, entreat you for what is most strictly legal--that it may not be in the power of Critias to strike off me, or any of you whom he pleases; but according to the law which these men passed respecting those in the list, according to that may be the decision, both for you and for me. And of this, indeed,’ said he, ‘by the gods, I am not ignorant, that this altar will be no protection to me; but what I wish to show is, that these men are not only most unjust with regard to mankind, but also impious with regard to the gods. At you, however, who are good and honourable men, I am astonished if you do not come forward in your own defence; knowing moreover, as you do, that my name is not at all more easy to strike off than each of yours.’ Upon this, the herald of the Thirty ordered the Eleven to come for Theramenes; and when they had entered with the officers, led by Satyrus the boldest and most shameless of their number, Critias said, ‘We deliver up to you this Theramenes here, condemned according to law: do ye, Eleven, seize, and lead him off to the proper place, and do your duty with him.’ When he had thus spoken, Satyrus dragged the condemned man from the altar, aided by the other officers. Theramenes, as was natural, called both on gods and men to look on what was doing. But the council kept quiet, seeing both the fellows of Satyrus at the bar, and the space before the council-house filled with guards, and not being ignorant they had come with daggers. So they led off the man through the market-place, while he declared with a very loud voice how he was being treated. And this one expression also is told of him. When Satyrus said that he would rue it if he were not silent, he asked, ‘And shall I not then rue it, if I am?’ “Moreover, when he was compelled to die, and drank the hemlock, they said that he flung out on the floor what was left of it, saying, ‘Let this be for the lovely Critias.’ Now I am aware that these sayings are not worth mentioning: but this I consider admirable in the man, that when death was close at hand, neither his good sense nor his pleasantry deserted his soul.”[c] In Theramenes we find much to condemn, and nothing to approve, except that he shrank from following his profligate associates in their career of wickedness. If he had reason to complain that they did not spare the author of their elevation, the other victims of their tyranny had much more cause to rejoice in his fate. He seems to have died unpitied by either of the parties whom he had alternately courted and abandoned. His death released the Thirty--among whom it is probable that Satyrus was immediately chosen to supply his place--from the last restraints of fear or shame which had kept them within any bounds of decency; and they now proceeded to bolder and more thorough-going measures. They emulated the ancient tyrants, who had often removed the lowest class of the commonalty, for whom it was difficult to find employment, from the capital into the country, and prohibited all Athenians who were not on the list of the Three Thousand from entering the city. But by the oligarchs this step seems not to have been adopted so much with a view to their safety, as to increase the facility of rapine and murder. They continued to send out their emissaries to seize the persons and confiscate the property of the citizens, who were now scattered by their decree over Attica. The greater part of the outcasts took refuge in Piræus; but when it was found that neither the populous town, nor their rural retreats, could shelter them from the inquisition of their oppressors, numbers began to seek an asylum in foreign cities; and Argos, Megara, and Thebes, were soon crowded with Athenian exiles. The oligarchs, notwithstanding their Lacedæmonian garrison, and their reliance on Spartan protection, began to be alarmed at the state to which they had reduced themselves, and to dread the vengeance of their exiled enemies, who were waiting so near at hand for an opportunity of attacking them; and they applied to the Spartan government to interpose for the purpose of averting the danger. The Spartans, instigated perhaps by Lysander, issued an edict, which showed to what a degree they were intoxicated by prosperity. It empowered the Athenian rulers to arrest the exiles in every Greek city, and under a heavy penalty, forbade any one to interfere in their behalf. But this decree was no less impolitic than inhuman; it disclosed a domineering spirit, which could not but produce general alarm and disgust; but its object was beyond the reach of the Spartan power. At Argos and Thebes, and probably in other cities, the injunction and the threat were disregarded; the exiles continued to find hospitable shelter. The Thebans more particularly took pains to manifest their contempt for the Spartan proclamation by a counter decree, directing that the persecuted Athenians should be received in all the Bœotian towns; that if any attempt should be made to force them away, every Bœotian should lend his aid to rescue them; and that they should not be obstructed in any expedition which they might undertake against the party now in possession of Athens. This measure, though the spirit it breathes is so different from that in which the Theban commander had voted for the extirpation of the Athenian people, was not dictated either by justice or compassion towards Athens, but by jealousy and resentment towards Sparta. Very soon after the close of the war causes had arisen to alienate the Thebans from their old ally. They were always disposed to set a high value on the services which they had rendered to the Peloponnesian cause and now conceived that they had not been properly requited. They put forward some claims relating to the spoil collected at Decelea, and likewise to the treasure carried to Sparta by Lysander, which, chiefly it seems at his instance, had been resisted or neglected. Hence they could not without great dissatisfaction see Athens in the hands of Lysander’s creatures. THE REVOLT OF THRASYBULUS [Sidenote: [404-403 B.C.]] Thrasybulus, like Alcibiades, had been formally banished by the Thirty; though it is not certain that he was at Athens when their government was established. He was however at Thebes when their furious tyranny began to drive the citizens by hundreds into exile; and the temper now prevailing at Thebes encouraged him to undertake the deliverance of his country. Having obtained a small supply of arms and money from his Theban friends, he crossed the border with a band of about seventy refugees, and seized the fortress of Phyle, which stood on an eminence projecting from the side of Mount Parnes, with which it was connected by a narrow ridge with precipitous sides, twelve or thirteen miles from Athens. The fortifications had either escaped when the other Attic strongholds were demolished by the Thirty, or were soon restored to a defensible state. The oligarchs, confident that they should soon be able to crush so feeble an enemy, marched against them with the Three Thousand and their equestrian partisans.[b] [Illustration: OFFICER’S HELMET] On their arrival, some of the young men, in a foolhardy spirit, immediately assaulted the place, producing, however, no effect upon it, but retiring with many wounds. When the Thirty were desirous of surrounding it with works, that they might reduce it by cutting off all supplies of provisions, there came on during the night a very heavy fall of snow, covered with which they returned the next day into the city, after losing very many of their camp followers by an attack of the men from Phyle. Knowing, however, that they would also plunder the country, if there were no watch to prevent it, they despatched to the frontiers, at the distance of fifteen furlongs from Phyle, all but a few of the Lacedæmonian guards, and two squadrons of horse. These having encamped on a rough piece of ground, proceeded to keep watch. There were by this time assembled at Phyle about seven hundred men, whom Thrasybulus took, and marched down by night; and having grounded arms about three or four stades from the party on guard, remained quietly there. When it was towards daybreak, and the enemy now began to get up and retire from their post on necessary purposes, and the grooms were making a noise in currying their horses--at this juncture the party with Thrasybulus took up their arms again, and fell upon them at a run. Some of them they despatched, and routed and pursued them all for six or seven furlongs; killing more than a hundred and twenty of the infantry; and of the cavalry, Nicostratus (surnamed The Handsome) and two others also, whom they surprised while yet in their beds. After returning and erecting a trophy, they packed up all the arms and baggage they had taken, and withdrew to Phyle. And now the horsemen in the city came out to the rescue, but found none of the enemy any longer on the spot; having waited, therefore, till their relatives had taken up the dead, they returned into the city. Upon this the Thirty, no longer thinking their cause safe, wished to secure for themselves Eleusis, that they might have a place of refuge, if required. Having sent their orders to the cavalry, Critias and the rest of the Thirty came to Eleusis; and having held a review of the horse in the place, alleging that they wished to know what was their number, and how much additional garrison they would require, they ordered them all to write down their names, and as each one wrote it down in his turn, to pass out through the postern to the sea. On the beach they had posted their cavalry on both sides, and as each successively passed out, their attendants bound him. When all were arrested, they ordered Lysimachus, the commander of the cavalry, to take them to the city and deliver them up to the Eleven. The next day they summoned to the Odeum the heavy-armed in the list, and the rest of the cavalry; when Critias stood up, and said: “It is no less for your advantage, gentlemen, than for our own, that we are establishing the present form of government. As then you will share in its honours, so too you ought to share in its dangers. You must give your votes therefore against the Eleusinians here arrested, that you may have the same grounds with us both of confidence and of fear.” And pointing out a certain spot, he ordered them openly to deposit their votes in it. At the same time the Lacedæmonian guard under arms occupied half of the Odeum; and these measures were approved by such of the citizens also as only cared for their own advantage. [Sidenote: [403 B.C.]] After this, Thrasybulus took those at Phyle, who had now gathered together to the number of about a thousand, and came by night into Piræus. The Thirty, on this intelligence, immediately went out to the rescue with both the Lacedæmonians, and the cavalry, and the heavy-armed; and then advanced along the cart-way that leads to Piræus. The force from Phyle for some time attempted to stop their approach; but when the great circuit of the wall appeared to require a large body to guard it, and they were not a large one, they marched in close order into Munychia. The troops from the city drew themselves up so as to fill up the road, being not less than fifty shields deep. In this order they marched up the hill. The force from Phyle also filled up the road, but were not more than ten deep in their heavy-armed; behind whom, however, there were posted both targeteers and light dart-men, and behind them the slingers. These indeed formed a numerous body; for the inhabitants of the place had joined them. While the enemy were coming on, Thrasybulus ordered his men to ground their shields, and having grounded his own, but keeping the rest of his arms, he took his stand in the midst of them, and spoke thus: “My fellow-citizens, I wish to inform some of you, and to remind others, that of the men who are coming against us, those on the right wing are they whom you routed and pursued five days ago; and those on the extreme left are the Thirty, who both deprived us of our country when guilty of nothing, and expelled us from our houses, and prosecuted the dearest of our relatives. But now truly they have come into a position, where they never thought of being, but we have always been praying that they might be. For we are posted against them with arms in our hands; and seeing that in former days we were arrested both when at our meals, and asleep, and in the market-place, while others of us were banished, when, so far from being guilty of any offence, we were not even in the country; for these reasons the gods are now clearly fighting on our side. For even in fair weather they raise a storm, when it is for our advantage; and when we make an attack, though our enemies are many, they grant to us, who are but few, to erect trophies. And now, too, they have brought us into a position, in which our opponents can neither hurl their spears nor their darts beyond those who are posted before them, through its being up-hill; whereas we, discharging down-hill both spears, and javelins, and stones, shall both reach them, and mortally wound many of them. And one might perhaps have thought that the first ranks, at any rate, must fight on equal terms; but as it is, if you only discharge your weapons with spirit, as suits your character, no one will miss, since the road is filled up with them, and standing on their guard they will all the time be skulking under their shields; so that we shall be able both to strike them when we please, like blind men, and to leap on and overturn them. But, sirs, we must act in such a way that each of us may have the consciousness of having been most instrumental towards the victory. For that (if God will) will now restore to us both country, and houses, and freedom, and honours, and children (such as have them), and wives. O blessed, then, those of us who, as victors, may see that sweetest day of all! And happy, too, he who falls! For no one, however rich he may be, shall enjoy so glorious a monument. I, then, when the time is come, will begin the pæan; and when we have called on Mars to help us, then let us all with one heart avenge ourselves on these men for the insults we have suffered.” Having thus spoken, he faced about towards the enemy, and remained still. For their prophet gave them orders not to make the onset before some one on their side had either fallen, or been wounded: “When, however,” said he, “that has happened, I will lead the way, and there will be victory for you who follow, but death to me, as I, at least, believe.” And he spoke no falsehood; but when they had taken up their arms, he himself, as though led by some destiny, was the first to bound forward, and falling on the enemy was killed, and is buried by the passage of the Cephisus; but the rest were victorious, and pursued them as far as the level ground. There were slain there, of the Thirty, Critias and Hippomachus; of the ten commanders in Piræus, Charmides, son of Glaucon; and of the rest about seventy. The conquerors took the arms, but plundered the clothes of none of their fellow-citizens. And when this was done, and they were returning the dead under a truce, many on both sides came up and conversed together. And Cleocritus, the herald of the initiated,[3] being gifted with a very fine voice, hushed them into silence and thus addressed them: “Fellow-citizens, why are you driving us from our country? Why do you wish to kill us? For we have never yet done you any harm; but have shared with you both the most solemn rites, and the noblest sacrifices and festivals; and have been your companions in the dance, and in the schools, and in war; and have faced many dangers with you by land and by sea, for the common safety and liberty of both parties. In the name of our fathers’ and our mothers’ gods, in the name of kindred, and affinity, and fellowship (for all these things have we in common with one another), cease sinning against your country, and be not persuaded by those most impious Thirty, who, for the sake of their own gain, have killed almost more of the Athenians in eight months than all the Peloponnesians in ten years’ warfare. And when we might live together in peace, these men inflict on us that war which of all is the most disgraceful, and grievous, and impious, and most hateful both to gods and men--war with one another. But, however, be well assured, that for some of those now slain by us, not only you, but we also, have shed many tears.” Such was his speech. The rest of the enemy’s commanders, from the very fact of their hearing such fresh appeals to them, led back their men into the city. The next day the Thirty, quite dejected and solitary, sat together in council: while the Three Thousand, wherever they were severally posted, were at variance with one another. For as many as had acted in a more violent manner, and were therefore afraid, vehemently maintained that they ought not to submit to those in Piræus: while such as were confident that they had done no wrong, both reflected themselves, and were persuading the rest, that there was no necessity for these troubles: and they said that they ought not to obey the Thirty, nor suffer them to ruin the state. At last they voted for deposing them, and choosing others: and accordingly they chose ten, one from each tribe. So the Thirty departed to Eleusis; while the Ten, together with the commanders of the cavalry, directed their attention to those in the city, who were in a state of great confusion and distrust of each other. The cavalry also bivouacked in the Odeum, with both their horse and their shields; and owing to their want of confidence, they kept going their rounds along the walls, after evening had set in, with their shields, and towards morning with their horses, being constantly afraid that some of those in Piræus might attack them. They, being now many in number, and men of all sorts, were making themselves arms, some of wood, others of wickerwork, and were whitening them over. Before ten days had elapsed, after giving pledges that whoever joined in the war, even though they were strangers, should have equal privileges, they marched out, with many heavy-armed and many light-armed. They had also about seventy horse; and making forays by day, and carrying off wood and corn, they slept again in Piræus. Of those in the city none else came out under arms, but the cavalry sometimes secured plunderers from the force in Piræus, and annoyed their phalanx. [Illustration: STATUE OF DIANA] And now the Thirty from Eleusis, and those in the list from the city, sent ambassadors to Lacedæmon, and urged them to come to their support, as the people had revolted from the Lacedæmonians. Lysander, calculating that it was possible quickly to reduce those in Piræus, when besieged both by land and by sea, if once they were cut off from all supplies, joined in getting a hundred talents lent them, and himself sent out as harmost, with his brother Libys as admiral. And having himself proceeded to Eleusis, he raised a large force of Peloponnesian heavy-armed; while the admiral kept guard that no provisions should go in for them by sea; so that those in Piræus were soon in a strait again, while those in the city, on the other hand, were elated again with confidence in Lysander. When things were progressing in this way, Pausanias the king, filled with envy at the thought of Lysander’s succeeding in these measures, and so at once winning reputation and making Athens his own, gained the consent of three of the ephors, and led out an expedition.[4] All the allies also joined him, except the Bœotians and Corinthians. Pausanias encamped on a spot called Halipedum, near Piræus, himself occupying the right wing, and Lysander, with his mercenaries, the left. And he sent ambassadors to those in Piræus, telling them to go away to their own homes; but when they did not obey his message, he made an assault (so far, at least, as noise went), that he might not openly appear to wish them well. When he had retired with no result from the assault, the day following he took two brigades of the Lacedæmonians, and three squadrons of the Athenian cavalry, and went along to the Mute Harbour, reconnoitring in what direction Piræus was most easy to circumvallate. On his retiring, a party of the besieged ran up and caused him trouble; annoyed at which, he ordered the horse to charge them at full speed, and such as had passed the period of youth ten years to accompany them, while he himself followed with the rest. And they slew about thirty of the light-armed, and pursued the rest to the theatre in Piræus. There all the targeteers and heavy infantry of the party in Piræus happened to be arming themselves. And now the light-armed immediately running forward began darting, throwing, shooting, slinging. The Lacedæmonians, when many were being wounded, being very hard pressed, began slowly to retreat; and upon this their opponents threw themselves on them much more vigorously. Seeing this, Thrasybulus and the rest of the heavy-armed went to the support of their men, and quickly drew themselves up in front of the others, eight deep. Pausanias, being very hard pressed, and having retired about four or five furlongs to a hill, sent orders for the Lacedæmonians and the rest of the allies to advance and join him. There having formed his phalanx very deep, he led it against the Athenians. They received his charge, but then some of them were driven into the mud at Halæ, and the rest gave way, about a hundred and fifty of them being slain. Pausanias erected a trophy, and withdrew. Not even under these circumstances was he exasperated with them, but sent secretly, and instructed those in Piræus, with what proposals they should send ambassadors to him and the ephors who were there. They complied with his advice. He also set those in the city at variance, and advised that as many as possible should collect together and come to the Spartan officers, alleging that they did not at all want to be at war with the men in Piræus, but to be reconciled together, and both parties to be friends of the Lacedæmonians. The ephors and the committee appointed to consider the question having heard all their statements, despatched fifteen men to Athens, and ordered them, in concert with Pausanias, to effect the best reconciliation of the parties they could. So they reconciled them on condition of their making peace with one another, and returning to their several homes, with the exception of the Thirty, the Eleven, and the Ten who had commanded in Piræus. If any of those in the city should feel afraid of remaining there, it was determined that they should establish themselves at Eleusis. These arrangements being effected, Pausanias disbanded his army, and the party from Piræus went up under arms to the Acropolis, and sacrificed to Athene. But some time afterwards, hearing that the party at Eleusis were hiring mercenaries, they took the field _en masse_ against them; and when their commanders had come to a conference, they put them to death; but sent in to the others their friends and relatives, and persuaded them to a reconciliation. And having sworn not to remember past grievances, they lived together under the same government, the popular party abiding by their oaths.[c] FOOTNOTES [1] This Antiphon has been confounded with the celebrated orator. [2] _Cothurnus_--a shoe which fitted either foot. [3] [That is, one of the communicants in the Eleusinian mysteries.] [4] [This curious method of intervention for Athens’ sake has been variously interpreted. Thirlwall makes quite a drama of benevolent duplicity about it. According to others, Pausanias was simply moved by a desire to nip Lysander’s ambition and to put an end to further cruelties by the Thirty who were already winning general sympathy for the common people and the democratic cause of Athens.] [Illustration: GREEK TERRA-COTTA FIGURE (In the British Museum)] [Illustration: GRECIAN BUCKLES (In the British Museum)] CHAPTER XXXVIII. THE DEMOCRACY RESTORED The period intervening between the defeat of Ægospotami (October, 405 B.C.), and the re-establishment of the democracy as sanctioned by the convention concluded with Pausanias (some time in the summer of 403 B.C.), presents two years of cruel and multifarious suffering to Athens. After such years of misery, it was an unspeakable relief to the Athenian population to regain possession of Athens and Attica; to exchange their domestic tyrants for a renovated democratical government; and to see their foreign enemies not merely evacuate the country, but even bind themselves by treaty to future friendly dealing. In respect of power, indeed, Athens was but the shadow of her former self. She had no empire, no tribute, no fleet, no fortifications at Piræus, no long walls, not a single fortified place in Attica except the city itself. Of these losses, the Athenians made little account at the first epoch of their re-establishment; so intolerable was the pressure which they had just escaped, and so welcome the restitution of comfort, security, property, and independence at home. The very excess of tyranny committed by the Thirty gave a peculiar zest to the recovery of the democracy. In their hands, the oligarchical principle (to borrow an expression from Burke) “had produced in fact and instantly, the grossest of those evils with which it was pregnant in its nature”; realising the promise of that plain-spoken oligarchical oath, which Aristotle mentions as having been taken in various oligarchical cities--to contrive as much evil as possible to the people. So much the more complete was the reaction of sentiment towards the antecedent democracy, even in the minds of those who had been before discontented with it. To all men, rich and poor, citizens and metics, the comparative excellence of the democracy, in respect of all the essentials of good government, was now manifest. With the exception of those who had identified themselves with the Thirty as partners, partisans, or instruments, there was scarcely any one who did not feel that his life and property had been far more secure under the former democracy, and would become so again if that democracy were revived. It was the first measure of Thrasybulus and his companions, after concluding the treaty with Pausanias and thus re-entering the city, to exchange solemn oaths of amnesty for the past, with those against whom they had just been at war. Similar oaths of amnesty were also exchanged with those in Eleusis, as soon as that town came into their power. The only persons excepted from this amnesty were the Thirty, the Eleven who had presided over the execution of all their atrocities, and the Ten who had governed in Piræus. Even these persons were not peremptorily banished: opportunity was offered to them to come in and take their trial of accountability (universal at Athens in the case of every magistrate on quitting office); so that if acquitted, they would enjoy the benefit of the amnesty as well as all others. We know that Eratosthenes, one of the Thirty, afterwards returned to Athens; since there remains a powerful harangue of Lysias invoking justice against him as having brought to death Polemarchus (the brother of Lysias). We learn moreover from the same speech, that such was the detestation of the Thirty among several of the states surrounding Attica, as to cause formal decrees for their expulsion or for prohibiting their coming. The sons, even of such among the Thirty as did not return, were allowed to remain at Athens, and enjoy their rights as citizens unmolested; a moderation rare in Grecian political warfare. The first public vote of the Athenians, after the conclusion of peace with Sparta and the return of the exiles, was to restore the former democracy purely and simply, to choose by lot the nine archons and the senate of Five Hundred, and to elect the generals--all as before. It appears that this restoration of the preceding constitution was partially opposed by a citizen named Phormisius, who, having served with Thrasybulus in Piræus, now moved that the political franchise should for the future be restricted to the possessors of land in Attica. His proposition was understood to be supported by the Lacedæmonians, and was recommended as calculated to make Athens march in better harmony with them. It was presented as a compromise between oligarchy and democracy, excluding both the poorer freemen and those whose property lay either in movables or in land out of Attica; so that the aggregate number of the disfranchised would have been five thousand persons. Since Athens now had lost her fleet and maritime empire, and since the importance of Piræus was much curtailed not merely by these losses, but by demolition of its separate walls and of the Long Walls--Phormisius and others conceived the opportunity favourable for striking out the maritime and trading multitude from the roll of citizens. Many of these men must have been in easy and even opulent circumstances; but the bulk of them were poor; and Phormisius had of course at his command the usual arguments, by which it is attempted to prove that poor men have no business with political judgment or action. But the proposition was rejected; the orator Lysias being among its opponents, and composing a speech against it which was either spoken, or intended to be spoken, by some eminent citizen in the assembly. Unfortunately we have only a fragment of the speech remaining, wherein the proposition is justly criticised as mischievous and unseasonable, depriving Athens of a large portion of her legitimate strength, patriotism, and harmony, and even of substantial men competent to serve as hoplites or horsemen--at a moment when she was barely rising from absolute prostration. Never certainly was the fallacy which connects political depravity or incapacity with a poor station, and political virtue or judgment with wealth, more conspicuously unmasked than in reference to the recent experience of Athens. The remark of Thrasybulus was most true--that a greater number of atrocities, both against person and against property, had been committed in a few months by the Thirty, and abetted by the class of horsemen, all rich men, than the poor majority of the demos had sanctioned during two generations of democracy. Moreover we know, on the authority of a witness unfriendly to the democracy, that the poor Athenian citizens, who served on shipboard and elsewhere, were exact in obedience to their commanders; while the richer citizens who served as hoplites and horsemen and who laid claim to higher individual estimation, were far less orderly in the public service. The motion of Phormisius being rejected, the antecedent democracy was restored without qualification, together with the ordinances of Draco, and the laws, measures, and weights of Solon. But on closer inspection, it was found that the latter part of the resolution was incompatible with the amnesty which had been just sworn. According to the laws of Solon and Draco, the perpetrators of enormities under the Thirty had rendered themselves guilty, and were open to trial. To escape this consequence, a second psephism or decree was passed, on the proposition of Tisamenus, to review the laws of Solon and Draco, and re-enact them with such additions and amendments as might be deemed expedient. Five hundred citizens had just been chosen by the people as _nomothetæ_ or law-makers, at the same time when the senate of Five Hundred was taken by lot; out of these nomothetæ the senate now chose a select few, whose duty it was to consider all propositions for amendment or addition to the laws of the old democracy, and post them up for public inspection before the statues of the Eponymous Heroes, within the month then running. The senate, and the entire body of five hundred nomothetæ, were then to be convened, in order that each might pass in review, separately, both the old laws and the new propositions; the nomothetæ being previously sworn to decide righteously. While this discussion was going on, every private citizen had liberty to enter the senate, and to tender his opinion with reasons for or against any law. All the laws which should thus be approved (first by the senate, afterwards by the nomothetæ), but no others--were to be handed to the magistrates, and inscribed on the walls of the portico called Pœcile, for public notoriety, as the future regulators of the city. After the laws were promulgated by such public inscription, the senate of Areopagus was enjoined to take care that they should be duly observed and enforced by the magistrates. A provisional committee of twenty citizens was named, to be generally responsible for the city during the time occupied in this revision. As soon as the laws had been revised and publicly inscribed in the Pœcile pursuant to the above decree, two concluding laws were enacted which completed the purpose of the citizens. The first of these laws forbade the magistrates to act upon, or permit to be acted upon, any law not among those inscribed; and declared that no psephism, either of the senate or of the people, should overrule any law. It renewed also the old prohibition (dating from the days of Clisthenes and the first origin of the democracy), to enact a special law inflicting direct hardship upon any individual Athenian apart from the rest, unless by the votes of six thousand citizens voting secretly. The second of the two laws prescribed, that all the legal adjudications and arbitrations which had been passed under the antecedent democracy should be held valid and unimpeached--but formally annulled all which had been passed under the Thirty. It further provided that the laws now revised and inscribed, should only take effect from the archonship of Euclides; that is, from the nominations of archons made after the recent return of Thrasybulus and the renovation of the democracy. By these ever memorable enactments, all acts done prior to the nomination of the archon Euclides and his colleagues (in the summer of 403 B.C.) were excluded from serving as grounds for criminal process against any citizen. To insure more fully that this should be carried into effect, a special clause was added to the oath taken annually by the senators, as well as to that taken by the heliastic dicasts. The senators pledged themselves by oath not to receive any impeachment, or give effect to any arrest, founded on any fact prior to the archonship of Euclides, excepting only against the Thirty and the other individuals expressly shut out from the amnesty, and now in exile. To the oath annually taken by the heliasts, also, was added the clause: “I will not remember past wrongs, nor will I abet any one else who shall remember them; on the contrary, I will give my vote pursuant to the existing laws”: which laws proclaimed themselves as only taking effect from the archonship of Euclides. By additional enactments, security was taken that the proceedings of the courts of justice should be in full conformity with the amnesty recently sworn, and that, neither directly nor indirectly, should any person be molested for wrongs done anterior to Euclides. And in fact the amnesty was faithfully observed: the re-entering exiles from Piræus, and the horsemen with other partisans of the Thirty in Athens, blended again together into one harmonious and equal democracy. [Illustration: GREEK SEALS] Eight years prior to these incidents, we have seen the oligarchical conspiracy of the Four Hundred, for a moment successful, and afterwards overthrown; and we have had occasion to notice, in reference to that event, the wonderful absence of all reactionary violence on the part of the victorious people, at a moment of severe provocation for the past and extreme apprehension for the future. We noticed that Thucydides, no friend to the Athenian democracy, selected precisely that occasion--on which some manifestation of vindictive impulse might have been supposed likely and natural--to bestow the most unqualified eulogies on their moderate and gentle bearing. Had the historian lived to describe the reign of the Thirty and the restoration which followed it, we cannot doubt that his expressions would have been still warmer and more emphatic in the same sense. Few events in history, either ancient or modern, are more astonishing than the behaviour of the Athenian people, on recovering their democracy, after the overthrow of the Thirty: and when we view it in conjunction with the like phenomenon after the deposition of the Four Hundred, we see that neither the one nor the other arose from peculiar caprice or accident of the moment; both depended upon permanent attributes of the popular character. If we knew nothing else except the events of these two periods, we should be warranted in dismissing, on that evidence alone, the string of contemptuous predicates,--giddy, irascible, jealous, unjust, greedy, etc.--one or other of which have been so frequently pronounced by unsympathetic or hostile critics respecting the Athenian people. A people, whose habitual temper and morality merited these epithets, could not have acted as the Athenians acted both after the Four Hundred and after the Thirty. Particular acts may be found in their history which justify severe censure; but as to the permanent elements of character, both moral and intellectual, no population in history has ever afforded stronger evidence than the Athenians on these two memorable occasions. If we follow the acts of the Thirty, we shall see that the horsemen and the privileged three thousand hoplites in the city had made themselves partisans in every species of flagitious crime which could possibly be imagined to exasperate the feelings of the exiles. The latter on returning saw before them men who had handed in their relatives to be put to death without trial; who had seized upon and enjoyed their property; who had expelled them all from the city, and a large portion of them even from Attica; and who had held themselves in mastery not merely by the overthrow of the constitution, but also by inviting and subsidising foreign guards. Such atrocities, conceived and ordered by the Thirty, had been executed by the aid, and for the joint benefit (as Critias justly remarked) of those occupants of the city whom the exiles found on returning. Now Thrasybulus, Anytus, and the rest of these exiles, saw their property all pillaged and appropriated by others during the few months of their absence: we may presume that their lands--which had probably not been sold, but granted to individual members or partisans of the Thirty--were restored to them; but the movable property could not be reclaimed, and the losses to which they remained subject were prodigious. [Sidenote: [403-402 B.C.]] The men who had caused and profited by these losses--often with great brutality towards the families of the exiles, as we know by the case of Lysias--were now at Athens, all individually well known to the sufferers. In like manner, the sons and brothers of Leon and the other victims of the Thirty, saw before them the very citizens by whose hands their innocent relatives had been consigned without trial to prison and execution. The amount of wrong suffered had been infinitely greater than in the time of the Four Hundred, and the provocation, on every ground, public and private, violent to a degree never exceeded in history. Yet with all this sting fresh in their bosoms, we find the victorious multitude, on the latter occasion as well as on the former, burying the past in an indiscriminate amnesty, and anxious only for the future harmonious march of the renovated and all-comprehensive democracy. We see the sentiment of commonwealth in the demos, twice contrasted with the sentiment of faction in an ascendant oligarchy; twice triumphant over the strongest counter-motives, over the most bitter recollections of wrongful murder and spoliation, over all that passionate rush of reactionary appetite which characterises the moment of political restoration. “Bloody will be the reign of that king who comes back to his kingdom from exile”--says the Latin poet: bloody indeed had been the rule of Critias and those oligarchs who had just come back from exile: “harsh is a demos (observes Æschylus) which has just got clear of misery.” But the Athenian demos, on coming back from Piræus, exhibited the rare phenomenon of a restoration after cruel wrong suffered, sacrificing all the strong impulse of retaliation to a generous and deliberate regard for the future march of the commonwealth. Thucydides remarks that the moderation of political antipathy which prevailed at Athens after the victory of the people over the Four Hundred, was the main cause which revived Athens from her great public depression and danger. Much more forcibly does this remark apply to the restoration after the Thirty, when the public condition of Athens was at the lowest depth of abasement, from which nothing could have rescued her except such exemplary wisdom and patriotism on the part of her victorious demos. Nothing short of this could have enabled her to accomplish that partial resurrection--into an independent and powerful single state, though shorn of her imperial power--which will furnish material for the subsequent portion of our history. If we wanted any further proof of their capacity for taking the largest and soundest views on a difficult political situation, we should find it in another of their measures at this critical period. The Ten who had succeeded to oligarchical presidency of Athens after the death of Critias and the expulsion of the Thirty, had borrowed from Sparta the sum of one hundred talents [£20,000 or $100,000] for the express purpose of making war on the exiles in Piræus. After the peace, it was necessary that such sum should be repaid, and some persons proposed that recourse should be had to the property of those individuals and that party who had borrowed the money. The apparent equity of the proposition was doubtless felt with peculiar force at a time when the public treasury was in the extreme of poverty. Put nevertheless both the democratical leaders and the people decidedly opposed it, resolving to recognise the debt as a public charge; in which capacity it was afterwards liquidated, after some delay arising from an unsupplied treasury. The necessity of a fresh collection and publication (if we may use that word) of the laws, had been felt prior to the time of the Thirty. But such a project could hardly be realised without at the same time revising the laws, as a body, removing all flagrant contradictions, and rectifying what might glaringly displease the age either in substance or in style. Now the psephism of Tisamenus, one of the first measures of the renewed democracy after the Thirty, both prescribed such revision and set in motion a revising body; but an additional decree was now proposed and carried by Archinus, relative to the alphabet in which the revised laws should be drawn up. The Ionic alphabet, that is, the full Greek alphabet of twenty-four letters, as now written and printed, had been in use at Athens universally, for a considerable time--apparently for two generations; but from tenacious adherence to ancient custom, the laws had still continued to be consigned to writing in the old Attic alphabet of only sixteen or eighteen letters. It was now ordained that this scanty alphabet should be discontinued, and that the revised laws, as well as all future public acts, should be written up in the full Ionic alphabet. Partly through this important reform, partly through the revising body, partly through the agency of Nicomachus, who was still continued as Anagrapheus [“Writer-up” of the old laws], the revision, inscription, and publication of the laws in their new alphabet was at length completed. But it seems to have taken two years to perform--or at least two years elapsed before Nicomachus went through his trial of accountability. He appears to have made various new propositions of his own, which were among those adopted by the nomothetæ: for these he was attacked, on a trial of accountability, as well as on the still graver allegation of having corruptly falsified the decisions of that body--writing up what they had not sanctioned, or suppressing that which they had sanctioned. The archonship of Euclides, succeeding immediately to the Anarchy (as the period of the Thirty was denominated), became thus a cardinal point or epoch in Athenian history. We cannot doubt that the laws came forth out of this revision considerably modified, though unhappily we possess no particulars on the subject. We learn that the political franchise was, on the proposition of Aristophon, so far restricted for the future, that no person could be a citizen by birth except the son of citizen parents on both sides; whereas previously, it had been sufficient if the father alone was a citizen. The rhetor Lysias, by station a metic, had not only suffered great loss, narrowly escaping death from the Thirty (who actually put to death his brother Polemarchus) but had contributed a large sum to assist the armed efforts of the exiles under Thrasybulus in Piræus. As a reward and compensation for such antecedents, the latter proposed that the franchise of citizen should be conferred upon him; but we are told that this decree, though adopted by the people, was afterwards indicted by Archinus as illegal or informal, and cancelled. Lysias, thus disappointed of the citizenship, passed the remainder of his life as an _isoteles_, or non-freeman on the best condition, exempt from the peculiar burdens upon the class of metics. [Illustration: GREEK FIRE IRONS (In the British Museum)] Such refusal of citizenship to an eminent man like Lysias, who had both acted and suffered in the cause of the democracy, when combined with the decree of Aristophon above noticed, implies a degree of augmented strictness which we can only partially explain. It was not merely the renewal of her democracy for which Athens had now to provide. She had also to accommodate her legislation and administration to her future march as an isolated state, without empire or foreign dependencies. For this purpose material changes must have been required: among others, we know that the Board of Hellenotamiæ (originally named for the collection and management of the tribute at Delos, but attracting to themselves gradually more extended functions, until they became ultimately, immediately before the Thirty, the general paymasters of the state) was discontinued, and such among its duties as did not pass away along with the loss of the foreign empire, were transferred to two new officers--the treasurer at war, and the manager of the theoricon, or religious festival-fund. While the Athenian empire lasted, the citizens of Athens were spread over the Ægean in every sort of capacity--as settlers, merchants, navigators, soldiers, etc., which must have tended materially to encourage intermarriages between them and the women of other Grecian insular states. Indeed we are even told that an express permission of _connubium_ with Athenians was granted to the inhabitants of Eubœa--a fact (noticed by Lysias) of some moment in illustrating the tendency of the Athenian empire to multiply family ties between Athens and the allied cities. Now, according to the law which prevailed before Euclides, the son of every such marriage was by birth an Athenian citizen; an arrangement at that time useful to Athens, as strengthening the bonds of her empire--and eminently useful in a larger point of view, among the causes of Panhellenic sympathy. But when Athens was deprived both of her empire and her fleet, and confined within the limits of Attica--there no longer remained any motive to continue such a regulation, so that the exclusive city-feeling, instinctive in the Grecian mind, again became predominant. Such is perhaps the explanation of the new restrictive law proposed by Aristophon. Thrasybulus and the gallant handful of exiles who had first seized Phyle received no larger reward than a thousand drachmæ [£40 or $200] for a common sacrifice and votive offering, together with wreaths of olive as a token of gratitude from their countrymen. The debt which Athens owed to Thrasybulus was indeed such as could not be liquidated by money. To his individual patriotism, in great degree, we may ascribe not only the restoration of the democracy, but its good behaviour when restored. How different would have been the consequences of the restoration and the conduct of the people, had the event been brought about by a man like Alcibiades, applying great abilities principally to the furtherance of his own cupidity and power! THE END OF ALCIBIADES [Sidenote: [405-403 B.C.]] At the restoration of the democracy, Alcibiades was already no more. Shortly after the catastrophe at Ægospotami, he had sought shelter in the satrapy of Pharnabazus, no longer thinking himself safe from Lacedæmonian persecution in his forts on the Thracian Chersonesus. He carried with him a good deal of property, though he left still more behind him in these forts: how acquired we do not know. But having crossed apparently to Asia by the Bosporus, he was plundered by the Thracians in Bithynia, and incurred much loss before he could reach Pharnabazus in Phrygia. Renewing the tie of personal hospitality which he had contracted with Pharnabazus four years before, he now solicited from the satrap a safe conduct up to Susa. The Athenian envoys--whom Pharnabazus, after his former pacification with Alcibiades, 408 B.C., had engaged to escort to Susa, but had been compelled by the mandate of Cyrus to detain as prisoners--were just now released from their three years’ detention, and enabled to come down to the Propontis; and Alcibiades, by whom this mission had originally been projected, tried to prevail on the satrap to perform the promise which he had originally given, but had not been able to fulfil. The hopes of the sanguine exile, reverting back to the history of Themistocles, led him to anticipate the same success at Susa as had fallen to the lot of the latter: nor was the design impracticable, to one whose ability was universally renowned, and who had already acted as minister to Tissaphernes. The court of Susa was at this time in a peculiar position. King Darius Nothus, having recently died, had been succeeded by his eldest son Artaxerxes Mnemon; but the younger son Cyrus, whom Darius had sent for during his last illness, tried after the death of the latter to supplant Artaxerxes in the succession--or at least was suspected of so trying. Cyrus being seized and about to be slain, the queen-mother, Parysatis, prevailed upon Artaxerxes to pardon him, and send him again down to his satrapy along the coast of Ionia, where he laboured strenuously, though secretly, to acquire the means of dethroning his brother; a memorable attempt, of which we shall speak more fully hereafter. But his schemes, though carefully masked, did not escape the observation of Alcibiades, who wished to make a merit of revealing them at Susa, and to become the instrument of defeating them. He communicated his suspicions as well as his purpose to Pharnabazus; whom he tried to awaken by alarm of danger to the empire, in order that he might thus get himself forwarded to Susa as informant and auxiliary. Pharnabazus was already jealous and unfriendly in spirit towards Lysander and the Lacedæmonians (of which we shall soon see plain evidence)--and perhaps towards Cyrus also, since such were the habitual relations of neighbouring satraps in the Persian empire. But the Lacedæmonians and Cyrus were now all-powerful on the Asiatic coast, so that he probably did not dare to exasperate them, by identifying himself with a mission so hostile, and an enemy so dangerous, to both. Accordingly he refused compliance with the request of Alcibiades; granting him nevertheless permission to live in Phrygia, and even assigning to him a revenue. But the objects at which the exile was aiming soon became more or less fully divulged to those against whom they were intended. His restless character, enterprise, and capacity, were so well known as to raise exaggerated fears as well as exaggerated hopes. Not merely Cyrus, but the Lacedæmonians, closely allied with Cyrus, and the decarchies, whom Lysander had set up in the Asiatic Grecian cities, and who held their power only through Lacedæmonian support--all were uneasy at the prospect of seeing Alcibiades again in action and command, amidst so many unsettled elements. Nor can we doubt that the exiles whom these decarchies had banished, and the disaffected citizens who remained at home under their government in fear of banishment or death, kept up correspondence with him, and looked to him as a probable liberator. Moreover the Spartan king Agis still retained the same personal antipathy against him, which had already (some years before) procured the order to be despatched, from Sparta to Asia, to assassinate him. Here are elements enough, of hostility, vengeance, and apprehension, afloat against Alcibiades--without believing the story of Plutarch, that Critias and the Thirty sent to apprise Lysander that the oligarchy at Athens could not stand so long as Alcibiades was alive. [Sidenote: [404 B.C.]] A special despatch (or scytale) was sent out by the Spartan authorities to Lysander in Asia, enjoining him to procure that Alcibiades should be put to death. Accordingly Lysander communicated this order to Pharnabazus, within whose satrapy Alcibiades was residing, and requested that it might be put in execution. Pharnabazus therefore despatched his brother Magæus and his uncle Sisamithres, with a band of armed men, to assassinate Alcibiades in the Phrygian village where he was residing. These men, not daring to force their way into his house, surrounded it and set it on fire. Yet Alcibiades, having contrived to extinguish the flames, rushed out upon his assailants with a dagger in his right hand, and a cloak wrapped around his left to serve as a shield. None of them dared to come near him; but they poured upon him showers of darts and arrows until he perished, undefended as he was either by shield or by armour. A female companion with whom he lived--Timandra--wrapped up his body in garments of her own, and performed towards it all the last affectionate solemnities. [Illustration: A GREEK RELIGIOUS PROCESSION] Such was the deed which Cyrus and the Lacedæmonians did not scruple to enjoin, nor the uncle and brother of a Persian satrap to execute; and by which this celebrated Athenian perished before he had attained the age of fifty. Had he lived, we cannot doubt that he would again have played some conspicuous part--for neither his temper nor his abilities would have allowed him to remain in the shade--but whether to the advantage of Athens or not is more questionable. Certain it is that, taking his life throughout, the good which he did to her bore no proportion to the far greater evil. Of the disastrous Sicilian expedition, he was more the cause than any other individual; though that enterprise cannot properly be said to have been caused by any individual: it emanated rather from a national impulse. Having first, as a counsellor, contributed more than any other man to plunge the Athenians into this imprudent adventure, he next, as an exile, contributed more than any other man (except Nicias) to turn that adventure into ruin, and the consequences of it into still greater ruin. Without him, Gylippus would not have been sent to Syracuse, Decelea would not have been fortified, Chios and Miletus would not have revolted, the oligarchical conspiracy of the Four Hundred would not have been originated. Nor can it be said that his first three years of political action as Athenian leader, in a speculation peculiarly his own--the alliance with Argos, and the campaigns in Peloponnesus--proved in any way advantageous to his country. On the contrary, by playing an offensive game where he had hardly sufficient force for a defensive, he enabled the Lacedæmonians completely to recover their injured reputation and ascendency through the important victory of Mantinea. The period of his life really serviceable to his country, and really glorious to himself, was that of three years ending with his return to Athens in 407 B.C. The results of these three years of success were frustrated by the unexpected coming down of Cyrus as satrap: but just at the moment when it behoved Alcibiades to put forth a higher measure of excellence, in order to realise his own promises in the face of this new obstacle--at that critical moment we find him spoiled by the unexpected welcome which had recently greeted him at Athens, and falling miserably short even of the former merit whereby that welcome had been earned. If from his achievements we turn to his dispositions, his ends, and his means--there are few characters in Grecian history who present so little to esteem, whether we look at him as a public or as a private man. His ends are those of exorbitant ambition and vanity; his means rapacious as well as reckless, from his first dealing with Sparta and the Spartan envoys, down to the end of his career. The manœuvres whereby his political enemies first procured his exile were indeed base and guilty in a high degree. But we must recollect that if his enemies were more numerous and violent than those of any other politician in Athens, the generating seed was sown by his own overweening insolence and contempt of restraints, legal as well as social. On the other hand, he was never once defeated either by land or sea. In courage, in ability, in enterprise, in power of dealing with new men and new situations, he was never wanting; qualities which, combined with his high birth, wealth, and personal accomplishments, sufficed to render him for the time the first man in every successive party which he espoused--Athenian, Spartan, or Persian--oligarchical or democratical. But in none of them did he ever inspire any lasting confidence; all successively threw him off. On the whole, we shall find few men in whom eminent capacities for action and command are so thoroughly marred by an assemblage of bad moral qualities as Alcibiades.[b] LIFE AT ATHENS [Sidenote: [404-403 B.C.]] The state of Athens after the expulsion of the Thirty was in some respects apparently less desolate than that in which she had been left after the battle of Platæa. It is possible indeed that the invasions of Xerxes and Mardonius may have inflicted less injury on her territory than the methodical and lingering ravages of the Peloponnesians during the Decelean war. But in 479 the city, as well as the country, had been, for a part of two consecutive years, in the power of an irritated enemy. All that it required both for ornament and defence was to be raised afresh from the ground. Yet the treasury was empty: commerce had probably never yet yielded any considerable supplies, and it had been deeply disturbed by the war; the state possessed no dependent colonies or tributary allies, and was watched with a jealous eye by the most powerful of its confederates. [Sidenote: [403-402 B.C.]] Commerce had not only been interrupted by the blockade, but had sustained still greater detriment from the tyranny of the Thirty, which had crushed or scared away the most opulent and industrious of the aliens: and the cloud which continued to hang over the prospects of the state, even after freedom and tranquillity had been restored, tended to discourage those who might have been willing to return. The public distress was such that it was with the greatest difficulty the council could provide ways and means for the ordinary expenses. Even the ancient sacrifices prescribed by the sacred canons were intermitted, because the treasury could not furnish three talents [£600 or $8000] for their celebration: and the repayment of a loan of two talents which had been advanced by the Thebans, probably in aid of the exiles, was so long delayed through the same cause, that hostilities were threatened for the purpose of recovering the debt. The navy of Athens had now sunk to a fourth of that which she had maintained before the time of Solon, and it was limited to this footing by a compact which could not be broken or eluded without imminent danger; Piræus was again unfortified: the arsenal was in ruins: even the city walls needed repairs, which could not be undertaken for want of money; and on all sides were enemies who rejoiced in her humiliation, and were urged both by their passions and interests to prevent her from again lifting up her head. [Illustration: DRINKING HORNS] The corruption of the Athenian courts of justice probably began with that great extension of their business which took place when the greater part of the allies had lost their independence and were compelled to resort to Athens for the determination of all important causes. At the same time the increase of wealth and the enlargement of commerce, multiplied the occasions of litigation at home. The taste of the people began to be more and more interested in forensic proceedings, even before it was attracted towards them by any other inducement. The pay of the jurors introduced by Pericles strengthened this impulse by a fresh motive, which, when Cleon had tripled its amount, acted more powerfully, and on a larger class. A considerable number of citizens then began to look to the exercise of their judicial functions as a regular source both of pleasure and profit. [Illustration: FORTUNE (After Hope)] But the prevalence of this frivolous habit was not the worst fault of the Athenian courts. In the most important class of cases, the criminal prosecutions, they were seldom perfectly impartial, and their ordinary bias was against the defendant. The juror in the discharge of his office did not forget his quality of citizen, and was not indifferent to the manner in which the issue of a trial might affect the public revenue, and thus he leaned towards decisions which replenished the treasury with confiscations and pecuniary penalties, while they also served to terrify and humble the wealthy class, which he viewed with jealousy and envy. On this notorious temper of the courts was grounded the power of the infamous sycophants who lived by extortion, and generally singled out, as the objects of their attacks, the opulent citizens of timid natures and quiet habits, who were both unable to plead for themselves, and shrank from a public appearance. Such persons might indeed procure the aid of an advocate, but they commonly thought it better to purchase the silence of the informer, than to expose themselves to the risk and the certain inconvenience of a trial. The resident aliens were not exempt from this annoyance; and, though they were not objects of fear or jealousy, they were placed under many disadvantages in a contest with an Athenian prosecutor. But the noble and affluent citizens of the subject states, above all, had reason to tremble at the thought of being summoned to Athens, to meet any of the charges which it was easy to devise against them, and to connect with an imputation of hostile designs or disloyal sentiments, and were ready to stop the mouths of the orators with gold. There is no room for doubt as to the existence of the evils and vices we have been describing, though the most copious information we possess on the subject is drawn not from purely historical sources, but from the dramatic satires of Aristophanes. But there may still be a question as to the measure of allowance to be made for comic exaggeration, or political prejudices, in the poet; and it seems probable that the colours in which he has painted his countrymen are in some respects too dark. That the mass of the people had not sunk to this degree of depravity, may we think be inferred from the grief and indignation which it is recorded to have shown on some occasions, where it had been misled into an unjust sentence, by which it stained itself with innocent blood: as Callixenus, who however was not worse than other sycophants, though he was among those who returned after the expulsion of the Thirty, and enjoyed the benefit of the amnesty, died, universally hated, of hunger. ARISTOPHANES [Sidenote: [_ca._ 425-400 B.C.]] The patriotism of Aristophanes was honest, bold, and generally wise. He was still below the age at which the law permitted a poet to contend for a dramatic prize, and was therefore compelled to use a borrowed name, when, in the year after the death of Pericles, he produced his first work, in which his chief aim seems to have been to exhibit the contrast between the ancient and the modern manners. In his next, his ridicule was pointed more at the defects or the perversion of political institutions, and perhaps at the democratical system of filling public offices by lot. In both, however, he had probably assailed many of the most conspicuous persons of the day, and either by personal satire, or by attacks on the abuses by which the demagogues throve, he provoked the hostility of Cleon, who endeavoured to crush him by a prosecution. Its nominal ground was, it seems, the allegation, that the poet, who in fact according to some accounts was of Dorian origin, was not legally entitled to the franchise. But the real charge was that in his recent comedy he had exposed the Athenian magistracy to the derision of the foreign spectators. Cleon, however, was baffled; and though the attempt was once or twice renewed, perhaps by other enemies of Aristophanes, it failed so entirely, that he seems to have been soon left in the unmolested enjoyment of public favour; and he not only was encouraged to revenge himself on Cleon by a new piece, in which the demagogue was exhibited in person, and was represented by the poet himself,--who it is said could not find an actor to undertake the part, nor even get a suitable mask made for it,--but he at the same time ventured on an experiment which it seems had never been tried before on the comic stage. [Illustration: ARISTOPHANES] The people had been accustomed to see the most eminent Athenian statesmen and generals brought forward there and placed in a ludicrous light; but it had never yet beheld its own image set before its eyes as in a mirror, which reflected the principal features of its character, not indeed without the exaggeration which belonged to the occasion, but yet with a truth which could not be mistaken or evaded. This was done in the same play which exposed Cleon’s impudence and rapacity; and the follies and faults of the assembled multitude, which appears under its proper name of Demos, as an old dotard, not void of cunning, though incapable of governing himself, are placed in the strongest relief by the presence of its unworthy favourite, who is introduced, not indeed by name, but so as to be immediately recognised, as a lying, thievish, greedy, fawning, Paphlagonian slave. The poet’s boldness was so far successful, that instead of offending the audience he gained the first prize: but in every other respect he failed of attaining his object; for Cleon, as we have seen, maintained his influence unimpaired to the end of his life, and the people showed as little disposition to reform its habits, and change its measures, as if the portrait it had seen of itself had been no less amiable than diverting. But the issue of this attempt did not deter him from another, which, but for the applause which had crowned the first, might have appeared equally dangerous. As in the _Knights_ he had levelled his satire against the sovereign assembly; in the _Wasps_, which he exhibited in the year before Cleon’s death, he attacked the other stronghold of his power, the courts of justice, with still keener ridicule. The vehicles in which Aristophanes conveyed his political lessons, strange as they appear to us, were probably judiciously chosen, as well with the view of pointing the attention of the audience more forcibly to his practical object, as of relieving the severity of his admonitions and censures. As time has spared only a few fragments of the earlier and the contemporary productions of the comic drama, it is only from the report of the ancient critics that we can form any notion of the relation in which he stood to his theatrical competitors. He is said not only to have introduced several improvements in the structure of the old political comedy, by which he brought it to its highest perfection, but to have tempered the bitterness and the grossness of his elder rival Cratinus, who is described as the comic Æschylus. It is not quite clear in what sense this account is to be understood, for it is difficult to conceive that the satire of Cratinus can have been either freer or more licentious. But the difference seems to have consisted in the inimitable grace with which Aristophanes handled every subject which he touched. We are informed, indeed, that even in this quality he was surpassed by Eupolis, who is also said to have shown more vigour of imagination in the invention of his plots. Yet another account represents Eupolis as more nearly resembling Cratinus in the violence and homeliness of his invectives; and the testimony of the philosopher Plato, who in an epitaph called the soul of Aristophanes a sanctuary of the Graces, studied his works as a model of style for the composition of his own dialogues, and honoured him with a place in one of his masterpieces, seems sufficient to prove that at least in the elegance of his taste, and the gracefulness of his humour, he had no equal. How much Aristophanes was in earnest with his subject, how far he was from regarding it merely as an occasion for the exercise of his art, and how little he was swayed by personal prejudices, which have sometimes been imputed to him, is proved less by the keenness of his ridicule than by the warmth of his affection for Athens, which is manifest even under the comic mask. In his extant plays he nowhere intimates a wish for any change in the form of the Athenian institutions. He only deplores the corruption of the public spirit, points out its signs and causes, and assails the persons who minister to it. It is indeed the Athens of another age that he heartily loves; but that age is no remote antiquity; it is, if not within his own memory, near enough to be remembered by the elder part of his audience. He looks back indeed to the days of Miltiades and Aristides, as the period when the glory of Athens was at its height. But those of Myronides and Thucydides, the rival of Pericles, likewise belong, in his view, to the good old times, which he sighs for; and the evils of his own are of still more recent origin. He traces them to the measures of Pericles; to the position in which he had placed Athens with regard to the subject states, and above all to the war in which he had involved her. The Peloponnesian War he treats as entirely the work of Pericles, and he chooses to ascribe it to his fears for his own safety, or to the influence of Aspasia; and to consider the quarrel with Megara as only the occasion or colour for it. The war he regards as the main foundation of the power of such demagogues as Cleon and Hyperbolus. If peace were only restored, he hopes that the mass of the people would return to its rural occupations and to its ancient tastes and habits; that the assembly and the courts of justice would no longer hold out the same attractions; that litigation would abate, and the trade of the sycophants decay. Cleon is reproached in the _Knights_ with having caused the Spartan overtures to be rejected, because he knew that it was by the war he was enabled to plunder the subject cities, and that if the people were released from the confinement of the city walls, and once more to taste the blessings of peace and of a country life, he should no longer find it subservient to his ends. Hence we may perhaps conclude that when, at the end of the same play, Demos (the personified people) is introduced as newly risen out of a magic cauldron, restored to the vigour and comeliness of youth, in a garb and port worthy of the companion of Aristides and Miltiades, his eyes opened to his past errors, and with the purpose of correcting them, the poet did not conceive the change thus represented as hopeless, and still less meant to intimate that it was impossible. It was not without reason that Aristophanes, in common with all Athenians who loved and regretted the ancient times, regarded the sophistical circles with abhorrence, not only as seminaries of demagogues and sycophants, but as schools of impiety and licentiousness. That the attention of the Athenian youth should be diverted from military and athletic exercises, from the sports of the field, and from the enjoyment of that leisure which had once been esteemed the most precious privilege of a Greek freeman, to sedentary studies, which at the best only inflated them with self-conceit, and stimulated them to lay aside the diffidence which befitted their age, and come forward prematurely in public, to exhibit their new acquirements and to supplant the elder and graver citizens on the bema, or to harass them before the popular tribunals: this in itself he deemed a great evil. In the last scene of the _Knights_, one of the resolutions which Demos adopts is that he will bar the agora and the Pnyx against the beardless youths who now pass so much of their time in places of public resort, where they amuse themselves with discussing the merits of the orators in technical language, and will force them to go a-hunting, instead of making decrees. But it was a still more alarming evil, that, by way of preparation for this pernicious result, the religious belief of the young Athenians should be unsettled, their moral sentiments perverted, their reverence for the maxims and usages of antiquity extinguished; that subjects which had never before been contemplated but at an awful distance--the being and nature of the gods, the obligations arising from domestic and civil relations--should be submitted to close and irreverent inspection. It was according to the view of Aristophanes a matter of comparatively little moment, what turn such discussions happened to take, or what was the precise nature of the sophistical theories. The mischief was already done, when things so sacred had once been treated as subjects for inquiry and argument. But he perceived the evil much more clearly than the remedy. He would fain have carried his countrymen half a century backward, and have forced them to remain stationary at the stage which they had then reached in their intellectual progress; and it seems as if he wished to see the schools of the new philosophy forcibly suppressed, and with this view attempted to direct popular indignation against them. The only case in which this attempt succeeded was one in which the poet himself, if he had been better informed, must have desired it should fail. EURIPIDES Aristophanes closely watched all the workings of the sophistical spirit, and was sagacious enough to perceive that they were not confined to any particular sphere, but pervaded every province of thought and action. He was naturally led to observe its influence with peculiar attention in the branches of literature or art which were most nearly allied to his own. He was able to trace it in the innovations which had taken place in music and lyrical poetry, but above all in the tragic drama: and Euripides, the last of the three tragic poets who are known to us by their works, appeared to him as one of the most dangerous sophists, and was on this account among the foremost objects of his bitterest ridicule. The earnestness with which Aristophanes assailed him seems to have increased with the growth of his reputation; for of the three comedies in which he is introduced, the last, which was exhibited after his death, contains by far the most severe as well as elaborate censure of his poetry. It is not however quite certain that Euripides, even in the latter part of his career, was so popular as Sophocles. In answer to a question of Socrates, in a conversation which Xenophon probably heard during the latter part of the Peloponnesian War, Sophocles is mentioned as indisputably the most admirable in his art. It has often been observed, that the success of Euripides, if it is measured by the prizes which he is said to have gained, would not seem to have been very great: and perhaps there may be reason to suspect, that he owed much of the applause which he obtained in his life-time to the favour of a party, which was strong rather in rank and fortune than in numbers; the same which is said to have been headed by Alcibiades, and to have deprived Aristophanes of the prize. Alcibiades employed Euripides to celebrate his Olympic victories; and his patronage was sufficient to spread the poet’s fame at home and abroad. The anecdote about the celebrity which he had acquired in Sicily is perfectly consistent with this view; as is the invitation which he received a little before his death from Archelaus of Macedon, at whose court he ended his life; and the admiration which Dionysius of Syracuse expressed for him, by buying his tablets and pen at a high price, to dedicate them in the temple of the Muses. Aristophanes was so far from being blind to the poetical merits of Euripides, that he was himself charged by his rivals with borrowing from him, and in one of his lost plays acknowledged that in his diction he had imitated the terseness of the tragic poet, but asserted that his thoughts were less vulgar. How accurately he had studied the works of the tragic drama, how vividly he perceived the genuine character of Greek tragedy, and the peculiar genius of each poet, is sufficiently proved by the mode in which he has conducted the contest which he feigns between Æschylus and Euripides. But his criticism would probably have been less severe, if he had not considered Euripides less in his poetical character than in his connection with the sophistical school. Euripides had in fact been a hearer of Anaxagoras, and probably both of Protagoras and Prodicus. In his house Protagoras was said to have read one of his works by which he incurred a charge of atheism. He was also on intimate terms with Socrates, who was therefore reported to have aided him in the composition of his tragedies, and perhaps may have done so, in the same way as Prodicus and Anaxagoras; and this connection was, as we shall see, of itself a sufficient ground with Aristophanes for suspicion and aversion. The strength of Euripides lay in passionate and moving scenes, and he sought like other poets for situations and characters which afforded the best opportunity for the display of his powers. But he was too frequently tempted to work upon the feelings of his audience by an exhibition of sufferings which were quite foreign to the heroic dignity of the persons who endured them, who were therefore degraded by the pity they excited. The misery of his heroes often consisted chiefly in bodily privations, which could only awaken the sympathy of the spectator’s animal nature. His irreligion is contrasted with the piety of Æschylus, who invokes the goddess of the Eleusinian mysteries; a hint which, after the prosecution of Alcibiades, was easily understood, as to the party to which Euripides belonged. It was probably in the same point of view that Aristophanes considered the plays which he founded on tales of criminal passion. Euripides was undoubtedly induced to select such subjects, some of which were new to the Greek stage, chiefly by the opportunity they afforded him of displaying his peculiar dramatic talent. But in his hands they seldom failed to give occasion for a sophistical defence of conduct repugnant to Greek usages and feelings, which to Aristophanes would appear much more pernicious than the example itself. But his plays were likewise interspersed with moral paradoxes, which in more than one instance are said to have excited the indignation of the audience. A line in which the most pious of his heroes distinguishes between the oath of the tongue and that of the mind, in terms which might serve to justify any perjury, became very celebrated, and Aristophanes dwells upon it, apparently as a striking illustration of the sophistical spirit. It seems clear that these, and others of the novelties just mentioned, cannot have been designed to gain the general applause of the audience. Though we must reject a story told by some of his Greek biographers, which indeed is at variance with chronology, that the fate of his master Anaxagoras deterred him from philosophical pursuits, and led him to turn his thoughts to the drama, we might still wonder at his indiscretion, if it had not appeared probable that he aimed at gratifying the taste, not so much of the multitude, as of that class of persons which took pleasure in the new learning, and was in fact the favourite poet, not so much of the common people, as of a party, which was growing more and more powerful throughout his dramatic career. Euripides, however, occupies only a subordinate place among the disciples and supporters of the sophistical school, whom Aristophanes attacked. The person whom he selected as its representative, and on whom he endeavoured to throw the whole weight of the charges which he brought against it, was Socrates. In the _Clouds_, a comedy exhibited in 423, a year after the _Knights_ had been received with so much applause, Socrates was brought on the stage under his own name, as the arch-sophist, the master of the free-thinking school. The story is of a young spendthrift, who has involved his father in debt by his passion for horses, and having been placed under the care of Socrates is enabled by his instructions to defraud his creditors, but also learns to regard filial obedience and respect, and piety to the gods, as groundless and antiquated prejudices; and it seems hardly possible to doubt that under this character the poet meant to represent Alcibiades, whom it perfectly suits in its general outline, and who may have been suggested to the thoughts of the spectators in many ways not now perceived by the reader. It seems at first sight as if in this work Aristophanes must stand convicted either of the foulest motives or of a gross mistake. For the character of Socrates was in most points directly opposed to the principles and practice which he attributes here and elsewhere to the sophists and their followers. Yet in the _Clouds_ this excellent person appears in the most odious as well as ridiculous aspect; and the play ends with the preparations made by the father of the misguided youth to consume him and his school.[c] [Illustration: REMAINS OF A TEMPLE AT METAPONTUM] CHAPTER XXXIX. SOCRATES AND THE SOPHISTS It was not till the superior talents of Pericles had quieted the storms of war and faction that science, which had in the interval received great improvement among the Asian Greeks, revived at Athens with new vigour. Anaxagoras of Clazomenæ, the preceptor and friend of Pericles, bred in all the learning of the Ionian school, is said first to have introduced what might properly be called philosophy there. To him is attributed the first introduction in European Greece of the idea of one eternal, almighty, and all-good Being, or, as he is said, after Thales, to have expressed himself, a perfect mind, independent of body, as the cause or creator of all things. The gods received in Greece, of course, were low in his estimation; the sun and moon, commonly reputed divinities, he held to be mere material substances, the sun a globe of stone, the moon an earth, nearly similar to ours. A doctrine so repugnant to the system on which depended the estimation of all the festivals, processions, sacrifices, and oracles, which so fascinated the vulgar mind, was not likely to be propagated without reprehension. Even the science which enabled men to calculate an eclipse was offensive, inasmuch as it lowered the importance, and interfered with the profits, of priests, augurs, interpreters, and seers. An accusation of impiety was therefore instituted against Anaxagoras; the general voice went with the prosecutors; and all that the power and influence of Pericles could do for his valued friend, was to procure him means of escape from Attica. But while physical and metaphysical speculation engaged men of leisure, other learning had more attraction for the ambitious and needy. Athens always was the great field for acquiring fame and profit in this line; yet those who first attained eminence in it were foreigners there, Gorgias of Leontini in Sicily, Prodicus of the little island of Ceos, and Hippias of Elis. All these are said to have acquired considerable riches by their profession. Their success invited numbers to follow their example; and Greece, but far more especially Athens, shortly abounded with those who, under the name of sophists, professors of wisdom, undertook to teach every science. The scarcity and dearness of books gave high value to that learning which a man with a well-stored mind, and a ready and clear elocution could communicate. None, without eloquence, could undertake to be instructors; so that the sophists, in giving lessons of eloquence, were themselves the example. They frequented all places of public resort, the agora, the public walks, the gymnasia, and the porticoes; where they recommended themselves to notice by an ostentatious display of their abilities, in disputation among one another, or with whoever would converse with them. The profession of sophist had not long flourished, and no Athenian had acquired fame in any branch of philosophy, when the singular talents, and singular manners and pursuits, of Socrates, son of Sophroniscus, engaged public attention. The father was a statuary, and is not mentioned as very eminent in his profession; but, as a man, he seems to have been respected among the most eminent of the commonwealth: he lived in particular intimacy with Lysimachus, son of the great Aristides. Socrates, inheriting a very scanty fortune, had a mind wholly intent upon the acquisition and communication of knowledge. The sublime principles of theology, taught by Anaxagoras, made an early impression upon his mind. They led him to consider what should be the duty owed by man to such a Being as Anaxagoras described his Creator; and it struck him that, if the providence of God interfered in the government of this world, the duty of man to man, little considered by poets or priests as any way connected with religion, and hitherto almost totally neglected by philosophers, must be a principal branch of the duty of man to God. It struck him further that, with the gross defects which he saw in the religion, the morality, and the governments of Greece, though the favourite inquiries of the philosophers, concerning the nature of the Deity, the formation of the world, the laws of the heavenly bodies, might, while they amused, perhaps also enlarge and improve the minds of a few speculative men, yet the investigation of the social duties was infinitely more important, and might be infinitely more useful, to mankind in general. Endowed by nature with a most discriminating mind, and a singularly ready eloquence, he directed his utmost attention to that investigation; and when, by reflection, assisted and proved by conversation among the sophists and other able men, he had decided an opinion, he communicated it, not in the way of precept, which the fate of Anaxagoras had shown hazardous, but by proposing a question, and, in the course of interrogatory argument, leading his hearers to the just conclusion. We are informed by his disciple Xenophon how he passed his time. He was always in public. Early in the morning he went to the walks and the gymnasia: when the agora filled, he was there; and, in the afternoon, wherever he could find most company. Generally he was the principal speaker. The liveliness of his manner made his conversation amusing as well as instructive, and he denied its advantages to nobody. But he was nevertheless a most patient hearer; and preferred being the hearer whenever others were present able and disposed to give valuable information to the company. He did not commonly refuse invitations, frequently received, to private entertainments; but he would undertake no private instruction, nor could any solicitation induce him to relieve his poverty by accepting, like the sophists and rhetoricians, a reward for what he gave in public. In the variety of his communication on social duties he could not easily, and perhaps he did not desire entirely, to avoid either religious or political subjects; hazardous, both of them, under the jealous tyranny of democracy. It remains a question how far he was subject to superstition; but his honesty is so authenticated that it seems fairer to impute to him some weakness in credulity than any intention to deceive. If we may believe his own account, reported by his two principal disciples, he believed himself divinely impelled to the employment to which he devoted his life, inquiring and teaching the duty of man to man. A divine spirit, in his idea, constantly attended him; whose voice, distinctly heard, never expressly commanded what he was indisposed to do, but frequently forbade what he had intended. To unveil the nature of Deity was not among his pretensions. He only insisted on the perfect goodness and perfect wisdom of the Supreme God, the creator of all things, and the constant superintendence of his providence over the affairs of men. As included in these, he held that everything done, said, or merely wished by men, was known to the Deity, and that it was impossible he could be pleased with evil. The unity of God, though implied in many of his reported discourses, he would not in direct terms assert; rather carefully avoiding to dispute the existence of the multifarious gods acknowledged in Greece; but he strongly denied the weaknesses, vices, and crimes commonly imputed to them. Far however from proposing to innovate in forms of worship and religious ceremonies, so various in the different Grecian states, and sources of more doubt and contention than any other circumstances of the heathen religion, he held that men could not, in these matters, do wrong if they followed the laws of their own country and the institutions of their forefathers. He was therefore regular in sacrifice, both upon the public altars and in his family. He seems to have been persuaded that the Deity, by various signs, revealed the future to men; in oracles, dreams, and all the various ways usually acknowledged by those conversant in the reputed science of augury. “Where the wisdom of men cannot avail,” he said, “we should endeavour to gain information from the gods; who will not refuse intelligible signs to those to whom they are propitious.” Accordingly he consulted oracles himself, and he recommended the same practice to others, in every doubt on important concerns. The circumstances of the Athenian government, in his time, could not invite a man of his disposition to offer himself for political situations. He thought he might be infinitely more useful to his country in the singular line, it might indeed be called a public line, which he had chosen for himself. Not only he would not solicit office, but he would take no part in political contest. In the several revolutions which occurred he was perfectly passive. But he would refuse nothing: on the contrary, he would be active in everything that he thought decidedly the duty of a citizen. When called upon to serve among the heavy-armed, he was exemplary in the duties of a private soldier; and as such he fought at Potidæa, Amphipolis, and Delium. We find him mentioned in civil office; at one time president of the general assembly, and at another a member of the council of Five Hundred. In each situation he distinguished himself by his unbending uprightness. When president, he resisted the violence of the assembled people, who voted a decree, in substance or in manner, contrary to the constitution. Neither entreaties nor threats could move him to give it the necessary sanction of his office. As a member of the council we have already seen him, in the office of prytanis, at the trial of the six generals, persevering in resistance to the injustice of popular tyranny, rendered useless through the want of equal constancy in his colleagues, who yielded to the storm. Under the Thirty again we have seen him, not in office indeed, but daring to refuse office, unworthy and illegal office, which the tyranny of the all-powerful Critias would have put upon him. We are not informed when Socrates first became distinguished as a sophist; for in that description of men he was in his own day reckoned. When the wit of Aristophanes was directed against him in the theatre he was already among the most eminent, but his eminence seems to have been then recent. It was about the tenth or eleventh year of the Peloponnesian War, when he was six or seven and forty years of age, that, after the manner of the old comedy, he was offered to public derision upon the stage, by his own name, as one of the persons of the drama, in the comedy of Aristophanes, called the _Clouds_, which is yet extant. The audience, accustomed to look on defamation with carelessness, and to hold as lawful and proper whatever might amuse the multitude, applauded the wit, and even gave general approbation to the composition; but the high estimation of the character of Socrates sufficed to prevent that complete success which the poet had looked for. The crown, which rewarded him whose drama most earned the public favour, and which Aristophanes had so often won, was on this occasion refused him. Two or three and twenty years had elapsed since the first representation of the _Clouds_; the storms of conquest suffered from a foreign enemy and from four revolutions in the civil government of the country, had passed; nearly three years had followed of that quiet which the revolution under Thrasybulus produced, and the act of amnesty should have confirmed, when a young man, named Meletus, went to the king-archon, delivered, in the usual form, an information against Socrates, and bound himself to prosecute. The information ran thus: “Meletus, son of Meletus, of the borough of Pitthos, declares these upon oath against Socrates, son of Sophroniscus, of the borough of Alopece: Socrates is guilty of reviling the gods whom the city acknowledges, and of preaching other new gods: moreover he is guilty of corrupting the youth. Penalty, death.” [Illustration: GRECIAN TERRA-COTTA (In the British Museum)] THE PROSECUTION OF SOCRATES [Sidenote: [399 B.C.]] Xenophon begins his _Memorabilia_ of his revered master with declaring his wonder how the Athenians could have been persuaded to condemn to death a man of such uncommonly clear innocence and exalted worth. Ælianus, though for authority not to be compared with Xenophon, has nevertheless, we think, given the solution. “Socrates,” he says, “disliked the Athenian constitution. For he saw that democracy is tyrannical, and abounds with all the evils of absolute monarchy.” But though the political circumstances of the times made it necessary for contemporary writers to speak with caution, yet both Xenophon and Plato have declared enough to show that the assertion of Ælianus was well founded; and further proof, were it wanted, may be derived from another early writer, nearly contemporary, and deeply versed in the politics of his age, the orator Æschines. Indeed, though not stated in the indictment, yet it was urged against Socrates by his prosecutors before the court, that he was disaffected to the democracy; and in proof they affirmed it to be notorious that he had ridiculed what the Athenian constitution prescribed, the appointment to magistracy by lot. “Thus,” they said, “he taught his numerous followers, youths of the principal families of the city, to despise the established government, and to be turbulent and seditious; and his success had been seen in the conduct of two, the most eminent, Alcibiades and Critias. Even the best things he converted to these ill purposes: from the most esteemed poets, and particularly from Homer, he selected passages to enforce his anti-democratical principles.” Socrates, it appears indeed, was not inclined to deny his disapprobation of the Athenian constitution. His defence itself, as it is reported by Plato, contains matter on which to found an accusation against him of disaffection to the sovereignty of the people, such as, under the jealous tyranny of the Athenian democracy, would sometimes subject a man to the penalties of high treason. “You well know,” he says, “Athenians, that, had I engaged in public business, I should long ago have perished, without procuring any advantage either to you or to myself. Let not the truth offend you: it is no peculiarity of your democracy, or of your national character; but wherever the people is sovereign, no man who shall dare honestly to oppose injustice, frequent and extravagant injustice, can avoid destruction.” Without this proof indeed we might reasonably believe that, though Socrates was a good and faithful subject of the Athenian government, and would promote no sedition, no political violence, yet he could not like the Athenian constitution. He wished for wholesome changes by gentle means; and it seems even to have been a principal object of the labours to which he dedicated himself, to infuse principles into the rising generation that might bring about the desirable change insensibly. His scholars were chiefly sons of the wealthiest citizens, whose easy circumstances afforded leisure to attend him; and some of these, zealously adopting his tenets, others merely pleased with the ingenuity of his arguments and the liveliness of his manner, and desirous to emulate his triumphs over his opponents, were forward, after his example, to engage in disputation upon all the subjects on which he was accustomed to discourse. Thus employed and thus followed, though himself avoiding office and public business, those who governed or desired to govern the commonwealth through their influence among the many, might perhaps not unreasonably consider him as one who was, or might become, a formidable adversary; nor might it be difficult to excite popular jealousy against him. Meletus, who stood forward as his principal accuser, was, according to Plato, not a man of any great consideration. He was soon joined by Lycon, one of the most powerful speakers of his time, and the avowed patron of the rhetoricians, who, as well as the poets, thought their interest injured by the moral philosopher’s doctrine. But Anytus, a man scarcely second to any in the commonwealth in rank and general estimation, who had held high command with reputation in the Peloponnesian War, and had been the principal associate of Thrasybulus in the war against the Thirty and the restoration of the democracy, declared himself a supporter of the prosecution. Nothing in the accusation could, by any known law of Athens, affect the life of the accused. In England no man would be put upon trial on so vague a charge: no grand jury would listen to it. But in Athens, if the party was strong enough, it signified little what was the law. When Lycon and Anytus came forward, Socrates saw that his condemnation was already decided. By the course of his life, however, and by the turn of his thoughts for many years, he had so prepared himself for all events, that the probability of his condemnation, far from being alarming, was to him rather matter for rejoicing, as, at his age, a fortunate occurrence. Xenophon says that, by condescending to a little supplication, Socrates might easily have obtained his acquittal. It was usual for accused persons, when brought before the court, to bewail their apprehended lot, with tears to supplicate favour, and by exhibiting their children upon the bema, to endeavour to excite pity. No admonition or entreaty of his friends however could persuade him to such an unworthiness. He thought it, he said, more respectful to the court, as well as more becoming himself, to omit all this; however aware that their sentiments were likely so far to differ from his that judgment would be given in anger for it. Accordingly, when put upon his defence, he told the people that he did not plead for his own sake, but for theirs, wishing them to avoid the guilt of an unjust sentence. Condemnation pronounced wrought no change upon him. He again addressed the court, declared his innocence of the matters laid against him, and observed that, even if every charge had been completely proved, still altogether did not, according to any known law, amount to a capital crime. “But,” in conclusion he said, “it is time to depart: I to die, you to live: but which for the greater good, God only knows.” [Illustration: SOCRATES IN PRISON] It was usual at Athens for execution very soon to follow condemnation; commonly on the morrow. But it happened that the condemnation of Socrates took place on the eve of the day appointed for the sacred ceremony of crowning the galley which carried the annual offerings to the gods worshipped at Delos: and immemorial tradition forbade all executions till the sacred vessel’s return. Thus the death of Socrates was respited thirty days, while his friends had free access to him in the prison. During all that time he admirably supported his constancy. Means were concerted for his escape; the jailer was bribed, a vessel prepared, and a secure retreat in Thessaly provided. No arguments, no prayers could persuade him to use the opportunity. He had always taught the duty of obedience to the laws, and he would not furnish an example of the breach of it. To no purpose it was urged that he had been unjustly condemned: he had always held that wrong did not justify wrong. He waited with perfect composure the return of the sacred vessel, reasoned on the immortality of the soul, the advantage of virtue, the happiness derived from having made it through life his pursuit, and, with his friends about him, took the fatal cup, and died. Writers who, after Xenophon and Plato, have related the death of Socrates, appear to have held themselves bound to vie with those who preceded them in giving pathos to the story. The purpose here has been rather to render it intelligible: to show its connection with the political history of Athens; to derive from it illustration of the political history. The magnanimity of Socrates, the principal factor of the pathos, surely deserves admiration; yet it is not that in which he has most outshone other men. The singular merit of Socrates lay in the purity and the usefulness of his manners and conversation; the clearness with which he saw, and the steadiness with which he practised, in a blind and corrupt age, all moral duties; the disinterestedness and the zeal with which he devoted himself to the benefit of others; and the enlarged and warm benevolence, whence his supreme and almost only pleasure seems to have consisted in doing good. The purity of Christian morality, little enough indeed seen in practice, nevertheless is become so familiar in theory that it passes almost for obvious, and even congenial to the human mind. Those only will justly estimate the merit of that near approach to it which Socrates made, who will take the pains to gather, as they may from the writings of his contemporaries and predecessors, how little conception was entertained of it before his time; how dull to a just moral sense the human mind has really been; how slow the progress in the investigation of moral duties, even where not only great pains have been taken, but the greatest abilities zealously employed; and, when discovered, how difficult it has been to establish them by proofs beyond controversy, or proofs even that should be generally admitted by the reason of men. It is through the light which Socrates diffused by his doctrine enforced by his practice, with the advantage of having both the doctrine and the practice exhibited to highest advantage in the incomparable writings of disciples such as Plato and Xenophon, that his life forms an era in the history of Athens and of man.[b] It is our great good fortune to possess a long and sympathetic description of the closing scenes of his life in the unsurpassed prose of his disciple Plato. Though told in the form of a dialogue and much too long for quotation in full, the presentation of Socrates is so vivid and veracious that a part of it must be given.[a] PLATO’S ACCOUNT OF THE LAST HOURS OF SOCRATES When we entered, we found Socrates just freed from his bonds, and Xantippe, you know her, holding his little boy and sitting by him. As soon as Xantippe saw us, she wept aloud and said such things as women usually do on such occasions, as “Socrates, your friends will now converse with you for the last time and you with them.” But Socrates, looking towards Crito, said, “Crito, let some one take her home.” Upon which some of Crito’s attendants led her away, wailing and beating herself. But Socrates sitting up in bed, drew up his leg, and rubbed it with his hand, and as he rubbed it, said: “What an unaccountable thing, my friends, that seems to be, which men call pleasure; and how wonderfully is it related towards that which appears to be its contrary, pain, in that they will not both be present to a man at the same time, yet, if any one pursues and attains the one, he is almost always compelled to receive the other, as if they were both united together from one head. “And it seems to me,” he said, “that if Æsop had observed this he would have made a fable from it, how the Deity, wishing to reconcile these warring principles, when he could not do so, united their heads together, and from hence whomsoever the one visits the other attends immediately after; as appears to be the case with me, since I suffered pain in my leg before from the chain, but now pleasure seems to have succeeded. “‘A bypath, as it were, seems to lead us on in our researches undertaken by reason,’ because as long as we are encumbered with the body, and our soul is contaminated with such an evil, we can never fully attain to what we desire; and this, we say, is truth. For the body subjects us to innumerable hindrances on account of its necessary support, and moreover if any diseases befall us, they impede us in our search after that which is; and it fills us with longings, desires, fears, all kinds of fancies, and a multitude of absurdities, so that, as it is said in real truth, by reason of the body it is never possible for us to make any advances in wisdom. “For nothing else but the body and its desires occasion wars, seditions, and contests; for all wars amongst us arise on account of our desire to acquire wealth; and we are compelled to acquire wealth on account of the body, being enslaved by its service; and consequently on all these accounts we are hindered in the pursuit of philosophy. But the worst of all is, that if it leaves us any leisure, and we apply ourselves to the consideration of any subject, it constantly obtrudes itself in the midst of our researches, and occasions trouble and disturbance, and confounds us so that we are not able by reason of it to discern the truth. It has then in reality been demonstrated to us, that if we are ever to know anything purely, we must be separated from the body, and contemplate the things themselves by the mere soul. And then, as it seems, we shall obtain that which we desire, and which we profess ourselves to be lovers of, wisdom, when we are dead, as reason shows, but not while we are alive. For if it is not possible to know anything purely in conjunction with the body, one of these two things must follow, either that we can never acquire knowledge, or only after we are dead; for then the soul will subsist apart by itself, separate from the body, but not before. And while we live, we shall thus, as it seems, approach nearest to knowledge, if we hold no intercourse or communion at all with the body, except what absolute necessity requires, nor suffer ourselves to be polluted by its nature, but purify ourselves from it, until God himself shall release us. And thus being pure, and freed from the folly of the body, we shall in all likelihood be with others like ourselves, and shall of ourselves know the whole real essence, and that probably is truth; for it is not allowable for the impure to attain to the pure. Such things, I think, Simmias, all true lovers of wisdom must both think and say to one another. Does it not seem so to you?” “Most assuredly, Socrates.” “If this, then,” said Socrates, “is true, my friend, there is great hope for one who arrives where I am going; there, if anywhere, to acquire that in perfection for the sake of which we have taken so much pains during our past life; so that the journey now appointed me is set out upon with good hope, and will be so by any other man who thinks that his mind has been as it were purified.” “Certainly,” said Simmias. “But does not purification consist in this, as was said in a former part of our discourse, in separating as much as possible the soul from the body, and in accustoming it to gather and collect itself by itself on all sides apart from the body, and to dwell, as far as it can, both now and hereafter, alone by itself, delivered as it were from the shackles of the body?” “Certainly,” he replied. “Is this then called death, this deliverance and separation of the soul from the body?” “Assuredly,” he answered. “But, as we affirmed, those who pursue philosophy rightly, are especially and alone desirous to deliver it, and this is the very study of philosophers, the deliverance and separation of the soul from the body, is it not?” “It appears so.” “Then, as I said at first, would it not be ridiculous for a man who has endeavoured throughout his life to live as near as possible to death; then, when death arrives, to grieve? Would not this be ridiculous?” “How should it not?” “In reality then, Simmias,” he continued, “those who pursue philosophy rightly study to die; and to them of all men death is least formidable. Judge from this. Since they altogether hate the body and desire to keep the soul by itself, would it not be irrational if, when this comes to pass, they should be afraid and grieve, and not be glad to go to that place, where on their arrival they may hope to obtain that which they longed for throughout life; but they longed for wisdom; and to be freed from association with that which they hated? How many of their own accord wished to descend into Hades, on account of human objects of affection, their wives and sons, induced by this very hope of there seeing and being with those whom they have loved; and shall one who really loves wisdom, and firmly cherishes this very hope, that he shall nowhere else obtain it in a manner worthy of the name, except in Hades, be grieved at dying, and not gladly go there? We must think that he would gladly go, my friend, if he be in truth a philosopher; for he will be firmly persuaded of this, that he will nowhere else but there attain wisdom in its purity; and if this be so, would it not be very irrational, as I just now said, if such a man were to be afraid of death?” “Very much so, by Jupiter,” he replied. “But it is right, my friends,” he said, “that we should consider this, that if the soul is immortal, it requires our care not only for the present time, which we call life, but for all time; and the danger would now appear to be dreadful, if one should neglect it. For if death were a deliverance from everything, it would be a great gain for the wicked, when they die, to be delivered at the same time from the body, and from their vices together with the soul: but now, since it appears to be immortal, it can have no other refuge from evils, nor safety, except by becoming as good and wise as possible. For the soul goes to Hades, possessing nothing else but its discipline and education, which are said to be of the greatest advantage or detriment to the dead, on the very beginning of his journey thither. “When the dead arrive at the place to which their dæmon leads them severally, first of all they are judged, as well those who have lived well and piously, as those who have not. And those who appear to have passed a middle kind of life, proceeding to Acheron, and embarking in the vessels they have, on these arrive at the lake, and there dwell, and when they are purified, and have suffered punishment for the iniquities they may have committed, they are set free, and each receives the reward of his good deeds, according to his deserts: but those who appear to be incurable, through the magnitude of their offences, either from having committed many and great sacrileges, or many unjust and lawless murders, or other similar crimes, these a suitable destiny hurls into Tartarus, whence they never come forth. But those who appear to have been guilty of curable, yet great offences, such as those who through anger have committed any violence against father or mother, and have lived the remainder of their life in a state of penitence, or they who have become homicides in a similar manner, these must of necessity fall into Tartarus, but after they have fallen, and have been there for a year, the wave casts them forth, the homicides into Cocytus, but the parricides and matricides into Pyriphlegethon: but when, being borne along, they arrive at the Acherusian lake, there they cry out to and invoke, some those whom they slew, others those whom they injured, and invoking them, they entreat and implore them to suffer them to go out into the lake, and to receive them; and if they persuade them, they go out, and are freed from their sufferings, but if not, they are borne back to Tartarus, and thence again to the rivers, and they do not cease from suffering this until they have persuaded those whom they have injured, for this sentence was imposed on them by the judges. But those who are found to have lived an eminently holy life, these are they, who, being freed and set at large from these regions in the earth, as from a prison, arrive at the pure abode above, and dwell on the upper parts of the earth. And among these, they who have sufficiently purified themselves by philosophy shall live without bodies, throughout all future time, and shall arrive at habitations yet more beautiful than these. “On account of these things, then, a man ought to be confident about his soul, who during this life has disregarded all the pleasures and ornaments of the body as foreign to his nature, and who, having thought that they do more harm than good, has zealously applied himself to the acquirement of knowledge, and who having adorned his soul not with a foreign but its own proper ornament, temperance, justice, fortitude, freedom, and truth, thus waits for his passage to Hades, as one who is ready to depart whenever destiny shall summon him. You then,” he continued, “Simmias and Cebes, and the rest, will each of you depart at some future time; but now destiny summons me, as a tragic writer would say, and it is nearly time for me to betake myself to the bath; for it appears to me to be better to drink the poison after I have bathed myself, and not to trouble the women with washing my dead body.” When he had thus spoken, Crito said, “So be it, Socrates, but what commands have you to give to these or to me, either respecting your children, or any other matter, in attending to which we can most oblige you?” “What I always say, Crito,” he replied, “nothing new; that by taking care of yourselves you will oblige both me and mine, and yourselves, whatever you do, though you should not now promise it; but if you neglect yourselves, and will not live as it were in the footsteps of what has been now and formerly said, even though you should promise much at present, and that earnestly, you will do no good at all.” “We will endeavour then so to do,” he said; “but how shall we bury you?” “Just as you please,” he said, “if only you can catch me, and I do not escape from you.” And at the same time smiling gently, and looking around on us, he said; “I cannot persuade Crito, my friends, that I am that Socrates who is now conversing with you, and who methodises each part of the discourse; but he thinks I am he whom he will shortly behold dead, and asks how he should bury me. But that which I sometime argued at length, that when I have drunk the poison I shall no longer remain with you, but shall depart to some happy state of the blessed, this I seem to have urged to him in vain, though I meant at the same time to console both you and myself. Be ye then my sureties to Crito,” he said, “in an obligation contrary to that which he made to the judges; for he undertook that I should remain; but do you be sureties that, when I die, I shall not remain, but shall depart, that Crito may more easily bear it, and when he sees my body either burnt or buried, may not be afflicted for me, as if I suffered some dreadful thing, nor say at my interment that Socrates is laid out, or is carried out, or is buried. For be well assured,” he said, “most excellent Crito, that to speak improperly is not only culpable as to the thing itself, but likewise occasions some injury to our souls. You must have a good courage then, and say that you bury my body, and bury it in such a manner as is pleasing to you, and as you think is most agreeable to our laws.” When he had said thus he rose, and went into a chamber to bathe, and Crito followed him, but he directed us to wait for him. We waited, therefore, conversing among ourselves about what had been said, and considering it again, and sometimes speaking about our calamity, how severe it would be to us, sincerely thinking that, like those who are deprived of a father, we should pass the rest of our life as orphans. When he had bathed, and his children were brought to him, for he had two little sons and one grown up, and the women belonging to his family were come, having conversed with them in the presence of Crito, and given them such injunctions as he wished, he directed the women and children to go away, and then returned to us. And it was now near sunset; for he spent a considerable time within. But when he came from bathing he sat down, and did not speak much afterwards; then the officer of the Eleven came in, and standing near him, said, “Socrates, I shall not have to find that fault with you that I do with others, that they are angry with me, and curse me, when, by order of the archons, I bid them drink the poison. But you, on all other occasions during the time you have been here, I have found to be the most noble, meek, and excellent man of all that ever came into this place; and, therefore, I am now well convinced that you will not be angry with me--for you know who are to blame--but with them. Now, then, for you know what I came to announce to you, farewell, and endeavour to bear what is inevitable as easily as possible.” And at the same time, bursting into tears, he turned away and withdrew. And Socrates, looking after him, said, “And thou, too, farewell; we will do as you direct.” At the same time turning to us, he said, “How courteous the man is; during the whole time I have been here he has visited me, and conversed with me sometimes, and proved the worthiest of men; and now how generously he weeps for me. But come, Crito, let us obey him, and let some one bring the poison, if it is ready pounded; but if not, let the man pound it.” Then Crito said, “But I think, Socrates, that the sun is still on the mountains, and has not yet set. Besides, I know that others have drunk the poison very late, after it had been announced to them, and have supped and drunk freely, and some even have enjoyed the objects of their love. Do not hasten then, for there is yet time.” Upon this Socrates replied, “These men whom you mention, Crito, do these things with good reason, for they think they shall gain by so doing, and I too with good reason shall not do so; for I think I shall gain nothing by drinking a little later, except to become ridiculous to myself, in being so fond of life, and sparing of it when none any longer remains. Go, then,” he said, “obey, and do not resist.” Crito having heard this, nodded to the boy that stood near. And the boy having gone out, and stayed for some time, came, bringing with him the man who was to administer the poison, who brought it ready pounded in a cup. And Socrates, on seeing the man, said, “Well, my good friend, as you are skilled in these matters, what must I do?” “Nothing else,” he replied, “than, when you have drunk it walk about, until there is a heaviness in your legs, then lie down; thus it will do its purpose.” And at the same time he held out the cup to Socrates. And he having received it very cheerfully, neither trembling, nor changing at all in colour or countenance, but, as he was wont, looking steadfastly at the man, said, “What say you of this potion, with respect to making a libation to any one, is it lawful or not?” “We only pound so much, Socrates,” he said, “as we think sufficient to drink.” “I understand you,” he said, “but it is certainly both lawful and right to pray to the gods, that my departure hence thither may be happy; which therefore I pray, and so may it be.” And as he said this, he drank it off readily and calmly. Thus far, most of us were with difficulty able to restrain ourselves from weeping, but when we saw him drinking, and having finished the draught, we could do so no longer; but in spite of myself the tears came in full torrent, so that, covering my face, I wept for myself, for I did not weep for him, but for my own fortune, in being deprived of such a friend. But Crito, even before me, when he could not restrain his tears, had risen up. But Apollodorus even before this had not ceased weeping, and then bursting into an agony of grief, weeping and lamenting, he pierced the heart of every one present, except Socrates himself. But he said, “What are you doing, my admirable friends? I, indeed, for this reason chiefly, sent away the women, that they might not commit any folly of this kind. For I have heard that it is right to die with good omens. Be quiet, therefore, and bear up.” When we heard this we were ashamed, and restrained our tears. But he, having walked about, when he said that his legs were growing heavy, lay down on his back; for the man so directed him. And at the same time he who gave him the poison, taking hold of him, after a short interval examined his feet and legs; and then having pressed his foot hard, he asked if he felt it; he said that he did not. And after this he pressed his thighs; and thus going higher, he showed us that he was growing cold and stiff. Then Socrates touched himself, and said, that when the poison reached his heart he should then depart. But now the parts around the lower belly were almost cold; when, uncovering himself, for he had been covered over, he said, and they were his last words, “Crito, we owe a cock to Æsculapius; pay it, therefore, and do not neglect it.” “It shall be done,” said Crito, “but consider whether you have anything else to say.” To this question he gave no reply; but shortly after he gave a convulsive movement, and the man covered him, and his eyes were fixed; and Crito perceiving it, closed his mouth and eyes. This was the end of our friend, a man, as we may say, the best of all of his time that we have known, and moreover, the most wise and just.[c] GROTE’S ESTIMATE OF SOCRATES Thus perished the “_parens philosophiæ_”--the first of ethical philosophers; a man who opened to science both new matter, alike copious and valuable, and a new method, memorable not less for its originality and efficacy, than for the profound philosophical basis on which it rests. Though Greece produced great poets, orators, speculative philosophers, historians, etc., yet other countries, having the benefit of Grecian literature to begin with, have nearly equalled her in all these lines, and surpassed her in some. But where are we to look for a parallel to Socrates, either in or out of the Grecian world? The cross-examining elenchus, which he not only first struck out, but wielded with such matchless effect, and to such noble purposes, has been mute ever since his last conversation in the prison; for even his great successor Plato was a writer and lecturer, not a colloquial dialectician. No man has ever been found strong enough to bend his bow; much less, sure enough to use it as he did. His life remains as the only evidence, but a very satisfactory evidence, how much can be done by this sort of intelligent interrogation; how powerful is the interest which it can be made to inspire, how energetic the stimulus which it can apply in awakening dormant reason and generating new mental power. [Illustration: GREEK VASE] It has been often customary to exhibit Socrates as a moral preacher, in which character probably he has acquired to himself the general reverence attached to his name. This is, indeed, a true attribute, but not the characteristic or salient attribute, nor that by which he permanently worked on mankind. On the other hand, Arcesilaus, and the New Academy, a century and more afterwards, thought that they were following the example of Socrates (and Cicero seems to have thought so too) when they reasoned against everything--and when they laid it down as a system, that against every affirmative position, an equal force of negative argument might be brought up as counterpoise. Now this view of Socrates is, in my judgment, not merely partial, but incorrect. He entertained no such systematic distrust of the powers of the mind to attain certainty. He laid down a clear (though erroneous) line of distinction between the knowable and the unknowable. About physics, he was more than a sceptic; he thought that man could know nothing: the gods did not intend that man should acquire any such information, and therefore managed matters in such a way as to be beyond his ken, for all except the simplest phenomena of daily wants; moreover, not only man could not acquire such information, but ought not to labour after it. But respecting the topics which concern man and society, the views of Socrates were completely the reverse. This was the field which the gods had expressly assigned, not merely to human practice, but to human study and acquisition of knowledge; a field, wherein, with that view, they managed phenomena on principles of constant and observable sequence, so that every man who took the requisite pains might know them. Nay, Socrates went a step further--and this forward step is the fundamental conviction upon which all his missionary impulse hinges. He thought that every man not only might know these things, but ought to know them; that he could not possibly act well, unless he did know them; and that it was his imperious duty to learn them as he would learn a profession; otherwise, he was nothing better than a slave, unfit to be trusted as a free and accountable being. Socrates felt persuaded that no man could behave as a just, temperate, courageous, pious, patriotic agent, unless he taught himself to know correctly what justice, temperance, courage, piety, patriotism, etc., really were. He was possessed with the truly Baconian idea, that the power of steady moral action depended upon, and was limited by, the rational comprehension of moral ends and means. But when he looked at the minds around him, he perceived that few or none either had any such comprehension, or had ever studied to acquire it--yet at the same time every man felt persuaded that he did possess it, and acted confidently upon such persuasion. Here, then, Socrates found that the first outwork for him to surmount, was, that universal “conceit of knowledge without the reality,” against which he declares such emphatic war; and against which, also, though under another form of words and in reference to other subjects, Bacon declares war not less emphatically, two thousand years afterwards--“_Opinio copiæ inter causas inopiæ est_.” If then the philosophers of the New Academy considered Socrates either as a sceptic, or as a partisan of systematic negation, they misinterpreted his character, and mistook the first stage of his process--that which Plato, Bacon, and Herschel call the purification of the intellect--for the ultimate goal. The elenchus, as Socrates used it, was animated by the truest spirit of positive science, and formed an indispensable precursor to its attainment. Though negative in his means, Socrates is strictly positive in his ends; his attack is undertaken only with distinct view to a positive result; in order to shame them out of the illusion of knowledge, and to spur them on and arm them for the acquisition of real, assured, comprehensive, self-explanatory, knowledge--as the condition and guarantee of virtuous practice. Socrates was indeed the reverse of a sceptic; no man ever looked upon life with a more positive and practical eye; no man ever pursued his mark with a clearer perception of the road which he was travelling; no man ever combined, in like manner, the absorbing enthusiasm of a missionary, with the acuteness, the originality, the inventive resource, and the generalising comprehension, of a philosopher. His method yet survives, as far as such method can survive, in some of the dialogues of Plato. It is a process of eternal value and of universal application. That purification of the intellect, which Bacon signalised as indispensable for rational or scientific progress, the Socratic _elenchus_ affords the only known instrument for at least partially accomplishing. However little that instrument may have been applied since the death of its inventor, the necessity and use of it neither have disappeared, nor ever can disappear. There are few men whose minds are not more or less in that state of sham knowledge against which Socrates made war: there is no man whose notions have not been first got together by spontaneous, unexamined, unconscious, uncertified association--resting upon forgotten particulars, blending together _disparates_ or inconsistencies, and leaving in his mind old and familiar phrases, and oracular propositions, of which he has never rendered to himself account: there is no man, who, if he be destined for vigorous and profitable scientific effort, has not found it a necessary branch of self-education, to break up, disentangle, analyse, and reconstruct, these ancient mental compounds--and who has not been driven to it by his own lame and solitary efforts, since the giant of the colloquial elenchus no longer stands in the market-place to lend him help and stimulus. To hear of any man, especially of so illustrious a man, being condemned to death on such accusations as that of heresy and alleged corruption of youth, inspires at the present day a sentiment of indignant reprobation, the force of which I have no desire to enfeeble. The fact stands eternally recorded as one among the thousand misdeeds of intolerance, religious and political. But the sentiment now prevalent is founded upon a conviction that such matters as heresy and heretical teaching of youth are not proper for judicial cognisance. Even in the modern world, such a conviction is of recent date; and in the fifth century B.C. it was unknown. Socrates himself would not have agreed in it; and all Grecian governments, oligarchical and democratical alike, recognised the opposite. The testimony furnished by Plato is on this point decisive. When we examine the two positive communities which he constructs, in the treatises _De Republica_ and _De Legibus_, we find that there is nothing about which he is more anxious, than to establish an unresisted orthodoxy of doctrine, opinion, and education. A dissenting and free-spoken teacher, such as Socrates was at Athens, would not have been allowed to pursue his vocation for a week, in the Platonic republic. Plato would not indeed condemn him to death; but he would put him to silence, and in case of need, send him away. This, in fact, is the consistent deduction, if you assume that the state is to determine what is orthodoxy, and orthodox teaching--and to repress what contradicts its own views. Now all the Grecian states, including Athens, held this principle of interference against the dissenting teacher. In any other government of Greece, as well as in the Platonic republic, Socrates would have been quickly arrested in his career, even if not severely punished; in Athens, he was allowed to talk and teach publicly for twenty-five or thirty years, and then condemned when an old man. Of these two applications of the same mischievous principle, assuredly the latter is at once the more moderate and the less noxious. Secondly, the force of this last consideration, as an extenuating circumstance in regard to the Athenians, is much increased, when we reflect upon the number of individual enemies whom Socrates made to himself in the prosecution of his cross-examining process. Here were a multitude of individuals, including men personally the most eminent and effective in the city, prompted by special antipathies, over and above general convictions, to call into action the dormant state-principle of intolerance against an obnoxious teacher. If, under such provocation, he was allowed to reach the age of seventy, and to talk publicly for so many years, before any real Meletus stood forward--this attests conspicuously the efficacy of the restraining dispositions among the people, which made their practical habits more liberal than their professed principles. Thirdly, whoever has read the account of the trial and defence of Socrates, will see that he himself contributed quite as much to the result as all the three accusers united. Not only he omitted to do all that might have been done without dishonour, to insure acquittal--but he held positive language very nearly such as Meletus himself would have sought to put in his mouth. He did this deliberately--having an exalted opinion both of himself and his own mission--and accounting the cup of hemlock, at his age, to be no calamity. It was only by such marked and offensive self-exaltation that he brought on the first vote of the dicastery, even then the narrowest majority, by which he was found guilty: it was only by a still more aggravated manifestation of the same kind, even to the pitch of something like insult, that he brought on the second vote, which pronounced the capital sentence. Now it would be uncandid not to allow for the effect of such a proceeding on the minds of the dicastery. They were not at all disposed, of their own accord, to put in force the recognised principle of intolerance against him. But when they found that the man who stood before them charged with this offence, addressed them in a tone such as dicasts had never heard before and could hardly hear with calmness, they could not but feel disposed to credit all the worst inferences which his accusers had suggested, and to regard Socrates as a dangerous man both religiously and politically, against whom it was requisite to uphold the majesty of the court and constitution. In appreciating this memorable incident, therefore, though the mischievous principle of intolerance cannot be denied, yet all the circumstances show that that principle was neither irritable nor predominant in the Athenian bosom; that even a large body of collateral antipathies did not readily call it forth against any individual; that the more liberal and generous dispositions, which deadened its malignity, were of steady efficacy, not easily overborne; and that the condemnation ought to count as one of the least gloomy items in an essentially gloomy catalogue. Let us add, that as Socrates himself did not account his own condemnation and death, at his age, to be any misfortune, but rather a favourable dispensation of the gods, who removed him just in time to escape that painful consciousness of intellectual decline, which induced Democritus to prepare the poison for himself--so his friend Xenophon goes a step further, and while protesting against the verdict of guilty, extols the manner of death as a subject of triumph; as the happiest, most honourable, and most gracious way, in which the gods could set the seal upon an useful and exalted life. It is asserted by Diodorus, and repeated with exaggerations by other later authors, that after the death of Socrates the Athenians bitterly repented of the manner in which they had treated him, and that they even went so far as to put his accusers to death without trial. I know not upon what authority this statement is made, and I disbelieve it altogether. From the tone of Xenophon’s _Memorabilia_, there is every reason to presume that the memory of Socrates still continued to be unpopular at Athens when that collection was composed. Plato, too, left Athens immediately after the death of his master, and remained absent for a long series of years: indirectly, I think, this affords a presumption that no such reaction took place in Athenian sentiment as that which Diodorus alleges; and the same presumption is countenanced by the manner in which the orator Æschines speaks of the condemnation, half a century afterwards. I see no reason to believe that the Athenian dicasts, who doubtless felt themselves justified, and more than justified, in condemning Socrates after his own speech, retracted that sentiment after his decease.[d] [Illustration: RUINS OF A TEMPLE OF ZEUS] CHAPTER XL. THE RETREAT OF THE TEN THOUSAND In the latter years of the Peloponnesian War the affairs of Greece became more than formerly implicated with those of Persia; and, during the short calm which succeeded the long troubles of the former country, some events in the latter will require attention. The detail will lead far from Greece; but, beside involving information of Grecian affairs not found elsewhere, it has a very important connection with Grecian history through the insight it affords into circumstances which prepared a revolution effected by Grecian arms, one of the greatest occurring in the annals of the world. THE AFFAIRS OF PERSIA By the event of the Peloponnesian War the Asian Greeks changed the dominion of Athens, not for that of Lacedæmon, the conquering Grecian power, but of a foreign, a barbarian master, the king of Persia, then the ally of Lacedæmon. Towards the end of the same year in which a conclusion was put to the war, by the taking of Athens, Darius, king of Persia, the second of the name, died. He was succeeded by his eldest son, Artaxerxes, also the second of his name, and, for his extraordinary memory, distinguished among the Greeks by the addition of Mnemon, “the Mindful.” The old king, in his last illness, desirous to see once more his favourite son Cyrus, sent for him from his government in Lydia. The prince, in obeying his father’s requisition, travelled in the usual manner of the Eastern great, with a train amounting almost to an army; and, to exhibit in his guard the new magnificence of troops so much heard of in the upper provinces, but never yet seen, he engaged by large pay the attendance of three hundred heavy-armed Greeks, under the command of Xenias of Parrhasia in Arcadia. As a friend and counsellor, he took with him Tissaphernes, satrap of Caria. [Sidenote: [404-401 B.C.]] On the decease of Darius, which followed shortly, a jealousy, scarcely separable from a despotic throne, but said to have been fomented by the unprincipled Tissaphernes, induced the new monarch to imprison his brother; whose death, it was supposed, in course would have followed, but for the powerful intercession of the queen-mother, Parysatis. Restored, through her influence, not only to liberty but to the great command entrusted to him by his indulgent father, Cyrus nevertheless resented highly the indignity he had suffered. He seems indeed to have owed little to his brother’s kindness. Jealous of the abilities and popular character of Cyrus, apprehensive of his revenge, and perhaps not unreasonably also of his ambition, Artaxerxes practised that wretched oriental policy of exciting civil war between the commanders of his provinces, to disable them for making war against the throne. Orontes, a person related to the royal family, governor of the citadel of Sardis, was encouraged by the monarch’s councils to rebel against that superior officer, under whose immediate authority, by those very councils, he was placed, and ostensibly still required to act. Cyrus subdued and forgave him. A second opportunity occurring, Orontes again rebelled; again found himself, notwithstanding the secret patronage of the court, unable to support his rebellion; and, soliciting pardon, obtained from the generosity of Cyrus, not pardon only, but favour. But according to report, to which Xenophon gave credit, the queen-mother herself, Parysatis, whether urged by the known enmity of Artaxerxes to Cyrus, or by whatever other cause, incited her younger son to seek the throne and life of the elder. Thus much, however, appears certain, that, very soon after his return into Asia Minor, Cyrus began preparations with that criminal view. For a pretence, it must be allowed, he seems not to have been totally without what the right of self-defence might afford; yet his principal motives evidently were ambition and revenge. The disjointed, tottering, and crumbling state of that empire, which, under the first Darius, appeared so well compacted, and really was so powerful and flourishing, favoured his views. Egypt, whose lasting revolt had been suppressed by the first Artaxerxes, was again in rebellion, and the fidelity of other distant provinces was more than suspected. Within his own extensive vice-royalty, the large province of Paphlagonia, governed by its own tributary prince, paid but a precarious obedience to the Persian throne; the Mysian and Pisidian mountaineers made open war upon the more peaceful subjects of the plains; and the Lycaonians, possessing themselves of the fortified places, held even the level country in independency, and refused the accustomed tribute. A large part of Lesser Asia was thus in rebellion, more or less avowed. Hence, on one hand, the attention of the king’s councils and the exertion of his troops were engaged; on the other, an undeniable pretence was ready for Cyrus to increase the military force under his immediate authority. Cyrus, on his first arrival in the neighbourhood of the Grecian colonies, became, as we have seen, partial to the Grecian character. As soon as the design against his brother’s throne was decided, the younger Cyrus, with increased sedulity, extended his connections among the Greeks. They alone, among the nations of that time, knew how to train armies so that thousands of men might act as one machine. Hence their heavy-armed had a power in the shock of battle that no number of more irregular troops, however brave, could resist. Through the long and extensive war lately concluded, Greece abounded with experienced officers, and with men of inferior rank, much practised in arms, and little in any peaceful way of livelihood. Opportunity was thus ready for raising a force of Grecian mercenaries, almost to any amount. What required circumspection was to avoid alarming the court of Susa; and this the defective principles and worse practice of the Persian administration made even easy. Cyrus therefore directed his Grecian commanders, in the several towns, to enlist Greeks, especially Peloponnesians, as many as they could; with the pretence of strengthening his garrisons against the apprehended attempts of Tissaphernes. In Miletus, so the popularity of his character prevailed, a conspiracy was formed for revolting to him; but before it could be carried into effect, it was discovered; and, by the satrap’s order, the ringleaders were executed, and many of their adherents banished. Cyrus not only protected the fugitives, but besieged Miletus by land and sea; and this new war furnished an additional pretence for levying troops. Notwithstanding the character of frankness, honour, and strict regard for truth which Cyrus generally supported, the candour of Xenophon, his friend and panegyrist, has not concealed from us that he could stoop to duplicity when the great interest of his ambition instigated. So far from acknowledging any purpose of disobedience to the head of the empire, he condescended to request from that brother, against whose throne and life his preparations were already directed, the royal authority for adding Ionia to his immediate government. The request was granted; at the instance, it was said, of Parysatis, who preserved much influence with her elder son, while she incited the nefarious views of the younger against him. Among the many Greeks admitted to the conversation and to the table of Cyrus, was Clearchus, a Lacedæmonian; who, after serving in the armies of his own commonwealth, through the Peloponnesian War, found himself, at the age of fifty, still uneasy in rest. Seeking opportunity for military employment, he thought he had discovered it in the Thracian Chersonesus, where the Greek settlers were harassed by incursions of the neighbouring barbarians; and he persevered in representation and solicitation to the ephors till he obtained a commission for a command there. Hastening his departure, at Corinth an order of recall overtook him. The disappointment was more than he could bear; he resolved to disobey the revered scytale; and proceeded, in defiance of it, to act in pursuance of his commission received. For this he was, in absence, condemned to death; a sentence operating to his banishment for life. What fair hope now remained to Clearchus does not appear; but the need of military talents, continually and extensively occurring among the various warring commonwealths and scattered colonies of the Greeks, always offered some prospect for adventurers of any considerable military reputation; and, in the moment, a still more inviting field, possibly always in his view, appeared in the court of Cyrus. Thither he went, and, under a forbidding outside, a surly countenance, a harsh voice, and rough manners, the prince discovering in him a character he wanted, after short intercourse, made him a present of ten thousand darics, near eight thousand pounds sterling. Clearchus did not disappoint this magnificent generosity. Employing the whole of the prince’s present in raising troops, he offered, as an individual adventurer, that protection to the Chersonesites which, as a general of the Lacedæmonian forces, he had been commissioned to give, but which the Lacedæmonian government, though claiming to be the protecting power of the Grecian name, had finally refused to afford. His service was accepted; and his success against the barbarians, together with the uncommon regularity and inoffensiveness of his troops in the friendly country, so gratified, not the Chersonesites only, but all the Hellespontine Greeks, that, while he generally found subsistence at the expense of the enemy, they provided large pay for his army by voluntary contribution. Hence, with a discipline severe sometimes to excess, he preserved the general attachment of those under him; and thus a body of troops was kept in the highest order, ready for the service of Cyrus. The circumstances of Thessaly afforded another opportunity. Aristippus, a Thessalian of eminence, probably banished by faction, had been admitted to the prince’s familiarity. Returning afterwards to his own country, and becoming head of his party, divisions were still such that civil war followed. Then Aristippus thought he might profit from that claim which the ancient doctrine of hospitality gave him upon the generosity of Cyrus. He requested levy-money for two thousand men, with pay for three months. Cyrus granted them for four thousand, and six months; only stipulating that without previous communication with him no accommodation should be concluded with the adverse party. Thus another body of troops, unnoticed, was maintained for Cyrus. Proxenus, a Theban of the first rank and highest connections, happy in his talents, cultivated under the celebrated Gorgias, of manners to win, and character to deserve esteem, dissatisfied with the state of things in his own city, passed, at the age of towards thirty, to the court of Cyrus, with the direct purpose of seeking employment, honour, and fortune; and, in Xenophon’s phrase, of so associating with men in the highest situations that he might earn the means of doing, rather than lie under the necessity of receiving favours. Recommended by such advantages, Proxenus not only obtained the notice, but won the friendship of Cyrus, who commissioned him to raise a Grecian force, pretended for a purpose which the Persian court could not disapprove, the reduction of the rebellious Pisidians. Thus engaged in the prince’s service, it became the care of Proxenus to obtain in his foreign residence the society of a friend, of disposition, acquirements, and pursuits congenial to his own. With this view he wrote to a young Athenian, with whom he had long had intimacy, Xenophon, son of Gryllus, a scholar of Socrates, warmly urging him to come and partake of the prince’s favour, to which he engaged to introduce him. In the actual state of things at Athens enough might occur to disgust honest ambition. Xenophon therefore, little satisfied with any prospect there, accepted his friend’s invitation; and to these circumstances we owe his beautiful narrative of the ensuing transactions, which remains, like the _Iliad_, the oldest and the model of its kind. For a Grecian land-force Cyrus contented himself with what might be procured by negotiation with individuals and the allurement of pay. But he desired the co-operation of a Grecian fleet, which, in the existing circumstances of Greece, could be obtained only through favour of the Lacedæmonian government. By a confidential minister therefore, despatched to Lacedæmon, he claimed a friendly return for his assistance in the war with Athens. The ephors, publicly acknowledging the justness of his claim, sent orders to Samius, then commanding on the Asiatic station, to join the prince’s fleet, and follow the directions of his admiral, Tamos, an Egyptian. Preparation being completed, and the advantageous season for action approaching, all the Ionian garrisons were ordered to Sardis, and put under the command of Xenias, the Arcadian, commander of the Grecian guard, which had attended Cyrus into Upper Asia. The other Grecian troops were directed to join; some at Sardis, some at places farther eastward. A very large army of Asiatics, whom the Greeks called collectively Barbarians, was at the same time assembled. The pretence of these great preparations was to exterminate the rebellious Pisidians; and, in the moment, it sufficed for the troops. It could, however, no longer blind Tissaphernes; who, not choosing to trust others to report what he knew or suspected, set off, with all the speed that the way of travelling of an Eastern satrap would admit, with an escort of five hundred horse, to communicate personally with the king. Meanwhile Cyrus marched from Sardis, with the forces already collected, by Colossæ to Celænæ in Phrygia, a large and populous town, where he halted thirty days. There he was joined by the last division of his Grecian forces, which now amounted to about eleven thousand heavy-armed, and two thousand targeteers. His Asiatics or barbarians were near a hundred thousand.[b] [Illustration: GREEK MARBLE CHAIR] XENOPHON’S ACCOUNT OF CUNAXA [Sidenote: [401 B.C.]] Of the following famous battle-picture, Plutarch wrote glowingly: “Many historians have described this battle; but Xenophon has done it with such life and energy that we do not read an account of it--we see it and feel all the danger.” The praise is not undeserved, and yet as an illuminating example of the mental attitude of the ancient historian with his love of long digressions, it should be noted that in the very midmost of the battle, Xenophon pauses to insert a whole chapter reviewing the life of Cyrus. This chapter is omitted here, the rest of the description being given in the antiquated translation made in 1749 by Edward Spelman.[a] From thence Cyrus proceeded through the Country of Babylon, and in three days’ march made twelve Parasangs.[5] When they were arrived at the end of the third day’s march, Cyrus reviewed his Forces, both Greeks and Barbarians in a Plain about Midnight (for he expected the King would appear the next Morning, at the Head of his Army, ready to give him Battle), and gave to Clearchus the Command of the right Wing, and to Menon the Thessalian that of the left, while he himself drew up his own Men. After the Review, and as soon as the Day appear’d, there came Deserters from the Great King, who brought Cyrus an account of his Army: then Cyrus, having called together the Generals and Captains of the Greeks, advis’d with them concerning the Order of Battle; when he encourag’d them by the following Persuasions: “O Greeks! it is not from any want of Barbarians, that I make use of you as my Auxiliaries, but because I look upon you as superior to great Numbers of them; for that reason I have taken you also into my Service: Shew yourselves therefore worthy of that Liberty you enjoy, in the possession of which I think you extremely happy; for be assur’d that I would prefer Liberty before all things I possess. But, that you may understand what kind of Combat you are going to engage in, I shall explain it to you: Their Numbers are great, and they come on with mighty Shouts, which if you can withstand, for the rest I am almost asham’d to think what kind of Men you will find our Country produces. But you are Soldiers; behave yourselves with Bravery, and, if any one of you desires to return home, I will take care to send him back the Envy of his Country; but I am confident that my Behaviour will engage many of you rather to follow my Fortunes, than return home.” Here Gaulites, a banish’d Samian, a Man of Fidelity to Cyrus, being present, spoke thus: “It is said by some, O Cyrus! that you promise many things now, because you are in such imminent Danger, which, upon any Success, you will not remember; and by others, that, though you should remember your Promises, and desire to perform them, it will not be in your power.” Cyrus hearing this, said: “Gentlemen! my paternal Kingdom to the South, reaches as far as those Climates that are uninhabitable through Heat, and to the North, as far as those that are so through Cold: Every thing between is under the Government of my Brother’s Friends; and, if we conquer, it becomes me to put you, who are my Friends, in possession of it; so that I am under no apprehension, if we succeed, lest I should not have enough to bestow on each of my Friends; I only fear, lest I should not have Friends enow on whom to bestow it. But to each of you Greeks, besides what I have mention’d, I promise a Crown of Gold.” The Officers, hearing these things, espous’d his Cause with greater Alacrity, and made their Report to the rest. After this the Greek Generals, and some of the private Men came to him to know what they had to expect, if they were victorious; all whom he sent away big with hopes: and all who were admitted, advis’d him not to engage personally, but to stand in the Rear. And then it was that Clearchus put this Question to Cyrus: “Are you of Opinion, O Cyrus! that your Brother will hazard a Battle?” “Certainly,” answered Cyrus: “If he is the Son of Darius and Parysatis, and my Brother. I shall never obtain all this without a stroke.” While the Soldiers were accomplishing themselves for the Action, the number of the Greeks was found to amount to ten thousand four hundred heavy-arm’d Men, and two thousand four hundred Targeteers; and that of the Barbarians in the Service of Cyrus, to one hundred thousand Men, with about twenty Chariots armed with Scythes. The Enemy’s Army was said to amount to twelve hundred thousand Men, and two hundred Chariots armed with Scythes: they had besides six thousand Horse, under the Command of Artagerses. These were drawn up before the King. The King’s Army was commanded by four Generals, Commanders and Leaders, who had each the Command of three hundred thousand Men; these were Abrocomas, Tissaphernes, Gobryas, and Arbaces. But of this Number nine hundred thousand only were present at the Battle, together with one hundred and fifty Chariots arm’d with Scythes: For Abrocomas coming out of Phœnicia, arrived five Days after the Action. This was the Account the Deserters gave to Cyrus before the Battle, which was afterwards confirm’d by the Prisoners. From thence Cyrus, in one day’s March, made three Parasangs, all his Forces, both Greeks and Barbarians, marching in Order of Battle; because he expected the King would fight that day: for in the middle of their March there was a Trench cut five Fathom broad, and three deep. This Trench extended twelve Parasangs upwards, traversing the Plain as far as the Wall of Media. In this Plain are the Canals deriv’d from the River Tigris; they are four in number, each one hundred Feet in breadth, and very deep, and barges laden with Corn sail in them: These Canals fall into the Euphrates; they are distant from one another one Parasang, and have Bridges over them. Close to the Euphrates, there was a narrow Pass, between the River and the Trench, about twenty Feet in breadth. This Trench the Great King, as soon as he heard Cyrus was marching against him, caus’d to be made by way of Fortification; through this Pass Cyrus and his Army march’d, and were now within the Trench. That day the King did not engage, but many Tracks appear’d both of Horses and Men that retreated. Here Cyrus, sending for Silanus, the Soothsayer of Ambracia, gave him three thousand Darics,[6] because the eleventh Day before that, when he was offering Sacrifice, he told Cyrus that the King would not fight within ten Days: Upon which Cyrus said, “If he does not fight within ten Days, he will not fight at all: And, if what you say proves true, I’ll give you ten Talents;” which Sum, the ten Days being expir’d, he then paid him. Since therefore the King had suffer’d the Army of Cyrus to march through this Pass unmolested, both Cyrus and the rest concluded that he had given over all Thoughts of fighting: so that the next Day Cyrus march’d with less Circumspection; and the third day he rode on his Car, very few marching before him in their Ranks; great part of the Soldiers observ’d no Order, many of their Arms being carried in Waggons, and upon sumpter Horses. It was now about the time of Day, when the Market is usually crowded, the Army being near the place, where they propos’d to encamp, when Patagyas, a Persian, one of those whom Cyrus most confided in, was seen riding towards them full speed, his Horse all in a Sweat, and immediately called to every one he met, both in his own Language, and in Greek, that the King was at hand with a vast Army, marching in Order of Battle. Upon this there was great Confusion, the Greeks and all the rest expecting he would charge them, before they had put themselves in Order: and Cyrus leaping from his Car, put on his Corslet, then mounting his Horse, took his Javelins in his Hand, and order’d all the rest to arm, and every Man to take his Post: They quickly form’d themselves, Clearchus on the right Wing, close to the Euphrates, and next to him Proxenus, and after him the rest: Menon and his Men were posted upon the left of the Greek Army. Of the Barbarians a thousand Paphlagonian Horse, with the Greek Targeteers, stood next to Clearchus on the right. Upon the left Ariæus, Cyrus’ Lieutenant-General, was plac’d with the rest of the Barbarians. Cyrus put himself in the Center with six hundred Horse: they had large Corslets, and Cuisses, and all of them Helmets, but Cyrus, who stood ready for the Charge, with his Head unarm’d; they say it is also customary for the rest of the Persians to expose themselves in a day of Action in the same manner: All the Horses in Cyrus’ Army had both Frontlets and Breast-plates, and the Horsemen Greek Swords. It was now the middle of the Day, and no Enemy was yet to be seen. In the Afternoon there appear’d a Dust like a white Cloud, which not long after spread itself like a Darkness over the Plain; when they drew nearer, immediately the brazen Armour flash’d, and their Spears and Ranks appear’d: The Enemy had on their left a Body of Horse arm’d in white Corslets (these were said to be commanded by Tissaphernes), next came those with Persian Bucklers, and next to them heavy-arm’d Men with wooden Shields, reaching down to their Feet (these were said to be Egyptians); then other Horse and other Archers. All these marched according to their respective Countries, each Nation being drawn up in a solid oblong Square: And before them were disposed the Chariots arm’d with Scythes, at a considerable distance from one another. These Chariots had Scythes fix’d aslant at the Axle-Trees, with others under the Body of the Chariot, pointing downwards, that so they might cut asunder every thing they encounter’d. The Design of these Chariots was to break the Ranks of the Greeks. It now appear’d that Cyrus, when he had exhorted the Greeks to withstand the Shouts of the Barbarians, was mistaken; for they did not come on with Shouts, but as silently and quietly as possible, and in an equal and slow March. Here Cyrus, riding along the Ranks with Pigres the Interpreter, and three or four others, called to Clearchus to bring his Men over-against the Center of the Enemy, because the King was there: And if we break that, says he, our Work is done. But Clearchus observing their Center, and understanding from Cyrus that the King was beyond the left Wing of the Greek Army (for the King was so much superior in number, that, when he stood in the Center of his own Army, he was beyond the left Wing of that of Cyrus) Clearchus, I say, would not however be prevail’d on to withdraw his right from the River, fearing to be surrounded on both sides: but answer’d Cyrus, He would take care that all should go well. Now the Barbarians came regularly on: and the Greek Army standing on the same Ground, the Ranks were form’d, as the Men came up. In the mean time Cyrus, riding at a small distance before the Ranks, survey’d both the Enemy’s Army and his own: Whom Xenophon, an Athenian, observing from the Greek Army, he rode up to him, and ask’d him, whether he had any thing to command; Cyrus, stopping his Horse, order’d him to let them all know, that the Sacrifices and Victims promis’d success. While he was saying this, he heard a Noise running through the Ranks, and ask’d him what Noise it was; Xenophon answer’d, that the Word was now giving for the second time; Cyrus wonder’d who should give it, and ask’d him what the Word was; the other replied, Jupiter the Preserver, and Victory: Which Cyrus hearing, said, I accept it, let That be the Word. After he had said this, he return’d to his Post. The two Armies being within three or four Stadia of each other, the Greeks sung the Pæan, and advanced: As this Motion occasion’d a small Fluctuation in the Line of Battle, those who were left behind, hasten’d their march, and at once they gave a general Shout, as their Custom is when they invoke the God of War, and all ran on. Some say they struck their Shields with their Pikes to frighten the Enemy’s Horses. But the Barbarians, before they came within the Reach of their Darts, turn’d their Horses and fled, and the Greeks pursued them as fast as they could, calling out to one another not to run, but to follow in their Ranks. Here some of the Chariots were borne through their own People without their Charioteers, others through the Greeks, some of whom seeing them coming, divided; while others being amaz’d, like Spectators in the Hippodrome, were taken unawares; but even these were reported to have received no harm, neither was there any other Greek hurt in the Action, except one upon the left Wing, who was said to have been wounded by an Arrow. Cyrus seeing the Greeks victorious on their side, and in pursuit of the Enemy, rejoic’d, and was already worshipp’d as King by those about him; however, he was not so far transported as to leave his Post, and join in the Pursuit; but, keeping his six hundred Horse in a Body, he observ’d the King’s Motions; well knowing that he was in the Center of the Persian Army: for in all Barbarian Armies, the Generals ever place themselves in the Center, looking upon that Post as the safest, on each side of which their Strength is equally divided, and, if they have occasion to give out any Orders, these are receiv’d in half the time by the Army. The King therefore being at that time in the Center of his own Battle, was, however, beyond the left Wing of Cyrus; and, when he saw none oppos’d him in front, nor any Motion made to charge the Troops that were drawn up before him, he wheel’d to the left, in order to surround their Army. Upon this Cyrus, fearing he should get behind him, and cut off the Greeks, advanc’d against the King, and charging with his six hundred Horse, broke those who were drawn up before him, put the six thousand Men to flight, and, as they say, killed with his own Hand Artagerses, their Commander. These being broken, the six hundred also belonging to Cyrus dispers’d themselves in the Pursuit, very few being left about him, and those almost all Persons who used to eat at his Table; being accompanied with these, he discovered the King, and those about him, and, unable to contain himself, immediately cried out, I see the Man; then ran furiously at him, and, striking him on the Breast, wounded him through his Corslet, as Ctesias the Physician says, who affirms that he cur’d the Wound. While he was giving the Blow, somebody threw a Javelin at him with great force, and wounded him under the Eye: and now the King and Cyrus engag’d hand to hand, and those about them, in defence of each. In this Action Ctesias (who was with the King) informs us how many fell on his side; on the other, Cyrus himself was killed, and eight the most considerable of his Friends lay dead upon him. When Artapates, who was in the greatest Trust with him of any of his scepter’d Ministers, saw Cyrus fall, they say, he leap’d from his Horse, and threw himself about him: some say, the King order’d Artapates to be slain upon the Body of Cyrus; others, that, drawing his Scimitar, he slew himself: for, he wore a golden Scimitar, a Chain, Bracelets, and other Ornaments, which are worn by the most considerable Persians; and was held in great esteem by Cyrus, both for his Affection and Fidelity. When Cyrus was dead, his Head and right Hand were cut off upon the spot, and the King, with his Men, in the Pursuit, broke into his Camp; while those with Ariæus, no longer made a stand, but fled through their own Camp to their former Post, which was said to be four Parasangs from the Field of Battle. The King, with his Forces, among many other things, took Cyrus’ Mistress, a Phocæan, who was said to be a Woman of great Sense and Beauty. The other, a Milesian, who was the younger of the two, was also taken by the King’s Troops, but escap’d naked to the Quarter of the Greeks, who were left to guard the Baggage. These, forming themselves, kill’d many of those who were plundering the Camp, and lost some of their own Men; however, they did not fly, but sav’d the Milesian, with the Men and Effects, and, in general, every thing else that was in their Quarter. By this time the King and the Greeks were at the distance of about thirty Stadia from one another, these pursuing the Enemy that were opposite to them, as if they had gain’d a complete Victory; and the King’s Troops plundering the Camp of the Greeks, as if they also had been every where victorious. But, when the Greeks were inform’d, that the King, with his Men, was among their Baggage, and the King, on his side, heard from Tissaphernes, that the Greeks had put those before them to flight, and were gone forward in the Pursuit, he then rallied his Forces, and put them in order. On the other side, Clearchus consulted with Proxenus, who was nearest to him, whether they should send a Detachment, or should all march to relieve the Camp. In the mean time the King was observ’d to move forward again, and seem’d resolved to fall upon their Rear; upon which the Greeks faced about, and put themselves in a posture to march that way, and receive him. However, the King did not advance that way; But, as before, he pass’d beyond their left Wing, so now he led his Men back the same Way, taking along with him those who had deserted to the Greeks during the Action, and also Tissaphernes with his Forces: for Tissaphernes did not fly at the first Onset, but penetrated with his Horse, where the Greek Targeteers were posted, quite as far as the River: However, in breaking through, he killed none of their Men, but the Greeks, dividing, wounded his People both with their Swords and Darts. Episthenes of Amphipolis commanded the Targeteers, and shewed great conduct upon this occasion. Tissaphernes, therefore, sensible of his Disadvantage, departed, then; coming to the Camp of the Greeks, he found the King there, and reuniting their Forces, they advanc’d. When they came opposite to the left of the Greeks, these were afraid they should attack their Wing, and, by wheeling to the right and left, annoy them on both sides; to avoid which, they resolv’d to open that Wing, and cover the Rear with the River. While they were consulting upon this, the King marched by them, and drew up his Army opposite to theirs, in the same Order in which he first engag’d. When the Greeks saw them draw near in Order of Battle, they again sung the Pæan, and went on with much more Alacrity than before. However, the Barbarians did not stay to receive them, but fled sooner than the first time: and the Greeks pursued them to a Village. There they halted; for there was an Eminence above the Village, upon which the King’s Forces fac’d about. He had no Foot with him, but the Hill was cover’d with Horse in such a manner, that it was not possible for the Greeks to see what was doing: However, they said they saw the royal Ensign there, which was a golden Eagle with its Wings extended, resting upon a Spear. When the Greeks advanc’d towards them, the Horse quitted the Hill, some running one way, and some another: However, the Hill was clear’d of them by degrees, and at last they all left it. Clearchus did not march up the Hill with his Men, but, halting at the Foot of it, sent Lycius the Syracusan, and another, with Orders to reconnoitre the place, and make their Report; Lycius rode up the Hill, and, having view’d it, brought Word that the Enemy fled in all haste. While these things were doing, it grew near Sunset. Here the Greeks halted, and lying under their Arms, rested themselves. In the mean time they wonder’d that neither Cyrus appear’d any where, nor any one from him; for they did not know he was dead; but imagin’d, that he was either led away by the Pursuit, or had rode forward to possess himself of some Post. Hereupon they consulted among themselves, whether they should stay where they were, and send for their Baggage, or return to their Camp. At last they resolv’d to return: And arriv’d at their Tents about Supper-time; And this was the end of that Day. There they found the greatest part of their Baggage plunder’d, with all the Provisions, and also the Carriages full of Flour and Wine, which Cyrus had prepar’d, in order to distribute them among the Greeks, if at any time his Army should labour under the want of Necessaries. It was said these Carriages amounted to four hundred: which were then all rifled by the King’s Troops, so that the greatest part of the Greeks had no Supper, neither had they eaten any Dinner; for, before the Army could halt in order to dine, the King appear’d. And in this Manner they passed the Night.[c] [Illustration: GREEK SEALS] THE RETREAT When the battle of Cunaxa was over, the Greeks, whose camp meanwhile had been pillaged, rejected the Persian king’s demand for unconditional surrender, and, although their numbers by this time were reduced to ten thousand, determined to fight their way through to Asia Minor, a task which involved marching through a hostile country for a distance which measured 1850 miles by the route they had taken from Ephesus to Cunaxa. Xenophon, one of their leaders, has made this march of the Greeks, which is commonly known as the Retreat of the Ten Thousand, the subject of a separate work. It is one of the most famous military exploits of antiquity and sets the superiority of Greece in the most brilliant light, for the bold and successful enterprise of these ten thousand Greeks does not redound to their glory alone. It is the common possession of their age, their nation, and the culture which it had attained; and marks in the most striking fashion the contrast of the relative values of Persian and Greek civilisation and political institutions. A handful of Greeks bid splendid defiance to the sovereign of the enormous Persian empire, to the sheer bulk of his army, and to all the intrigues of his satraps. It was the victory of Greek subtlety and skill over the rigid and mechanical organisation of Persia, of Greek science over the intellectual poverty of the East, of Greek tactics over Persian confusion; finally, of a genuine sense of honour and patriotic pride over craft, cowardice, and servility. The route which the Ten Thousand took was not the same by which they had marched to Cunaxa; it lay through Mesopotamia, Media, Armenia, and along the southern shore of the Black Sea to Thrace. The valiant Greeks did not know their way through these countries; they had neither maps nor any trustworthy guide; they had to march through desert and wilderness, to cross mountains and ravines, to pass through barbarous tribes and whole provinces in arms; nevertheless they succeeded in reaching the frontier of their own land with comparatively slight loss. Soon after they had begun their march, Artaxerxes concluded a treaty with them through the mediation of the satrap Tissaphernes, who had succeeded to the satrapy of Cyrus, in virtue of which they were to be allowed to proceed home undisturbed, escorted by the latter at the head of a Persian army, and supplied with the requisite provisions by the way. But Tissaphernes kept the Greeks waiting for more than twenty days before he returned from the king’s camp, and when at length he did return and set forth with them on their way through Media, he showed himself of so suspicious a temper and fostered such constant and increasing friction between the Greek troops and his own, that at last Clearchus, the Greek commander, begged for an interview with the satrap. This was granted, and Clearchus, confiding in the honour of the hostile leader, went to the Persian camp accompanied by all the twenty-four officers who composed his military council. As soon as they reached it they were treacherously taken prisoners and their guard cut down. They were presently carried off to the royal capital and there put to death together. The Persians hoped to throw the Greeks into confusion by this treacherous blow, and so vanquish them without much trouble; but they were not a little amazed when (in striking contrast to the spirit and organisation of their own army) a new body of generals and new subordinate officers sprang immediately and, as it were, spontaneously into being from the ranks of the Greek privates and subalterns. For in the Greek army fresh appointments to all posts were made every year; there was no regular promotion and no officer held permanent rank; on the contrary, the man who one year occupied the position of an officer frequently served as a private soldier the next. By this means almost every private soldier was qualified to step into the place of an officer, and it was an easy matter to appoint fresh leaders to the large and small divisions of the army. Xenophon, who had hitherto accompanied the march, neither in the capacity of private nor officer, but merely as a friend and comrade of one of the generals, was the first after the treacherous act of Tissaphernes to urge his countrymen not to yield to the Persian demand for submission, but to fight their way sword in hand through the enemy’s country. Only one of the colonels and captains who gathered about him demurred to his proposal. This aroused the suspicions of the rest, and, marking him more narrowly, they perceived by his pierced ears that he was by birth no Greek but a Persian. He was promptly expelled, and Xenophon and four others were appointed to succeed the generals captured by the Persians. From that day forward Xenophon was the soul of the Greek army, which owed its ultimate deliverance to him and in whom it rightly reposed absolute confidence. He was prudent enough not to command in his own name, but in that of Chirisophus of Sparta, though the latter was wholly devoid of the capacity and knowledge requisite for leading his countrymen home through the heart of the Persian empire. Xenophon’s motive in this was, on the one hand, to avoid making himself obnoxious to the Spartans, who had become masters of Greece by the Peloponnesian War, and on the other, to keep his own people under stricter discipline through the terror of a Spartan leader. Directed by an admirable tactical skill, which was equal to every fresh demand of place or circumstance, the Greeks continued their march, perpetually pursued and harassed by the Persians, to the rugged and inhospitable mountain country about the Upper Tigris. Here they came in contact with the fierce and warlike tribe of the Carduchi, who, like the Kurds of to-day who may be their descendants, had never been conquered, and who rejected all overtures for permission to pass through their territory in peace. The Persians, not daring to venture farther, now gave up the pursuit of the Ten Thousand, and the latter marched into the rugged and precipitous country of the Carduchi, and in spite of the constant attacks of the inhabitants succeeded by the superiority of their military discipline and experience in reaching the other side of the mountain range and the frontiers of Armenia in seven days. This march through the country of the Carduchi was the most arduous part of their journey and cost them more loss and suffering than all the attacks of the Persian army.[e] We turn again to the vivid description in Xenophon’s own words as Englished by Spelman. XENOPHON’S PICTURE OF THE HARDSHIPS In the country of the Taochians, their Provisions began to fail them: For the Taochians inhabited Fastnesses, into which they had convey’d all their Provisions. At last the army arriv’d at a strong Place, which had neither City nor Houses upon it, but where great Numbers of Men and Women with their Cattle were assembled. This Place Chirisophus order’d to be attack’d the Moment he came before it, and, when the first Company suffer’d another went up, and then another; for the Place being surrounded with Precipices, they could not attack it on all Sides at once. When Xenophon came up with the Rear-Guard, the Targeteers and heavy-arm’d Men, Chirisophus said to him, “You come very seasonably, for this Place must be taken, otherwise the Army will be starved.” Upon this they call’d a Council of War, and Xenophon demanding, what could hinder them from carrying the Place; Chirisophus answer’d, “there is no other Access to it but This, and, when any of our Men attempt to gain it, they roll down Stones from the impending Rock, and those they light upon are treated as you see”; pointing at the same time to some of the Men, whose Legs and Ribs were broken. “But,” says Xenophon, “when they have consum’d all the Stones they have, what can hinder us then from going up? For I can see nothing to oppose us, but a few Men, and of these not above two or three that are arm’d. The Space, you see, through which we must pass expos’d to these Stones, is about one hundred and fifty Feet in Length, of which that of one hundred Feet is cover’d with large Pines, growing in Groups, against which, if our Men place themselves, what can they suffer, either from the Stones that are thrown, or rolled down by the Enemy? The remaining Part of this Space is not above fifty Feet, which, when the Stones cease, we must dispatch with all possible Expedition.” “But,” says Chirisophus, “the Moment we offer to go to the Place that is cover’d with the Trees, they will shower down Stones upon us.” “That,” replies Xenophon, “is the very Thing we want, for by this Means they will be consum’d the sooner. However,” continues he, “let us, if we can, advance to that Place, from whence we may have but a little Way to run, and from whence we may also, if we see convenient, retreat with Ease.” Upon this, Chirisophus and Xenophon, with Callimachus of Parrhasia, one of the Captains, advanced (for the last had the command that Day of the Captains in the Rear), all the rest of the Officers standing out of Danger. Then about seventy of the Men advanc’d under the Trees, not in a Body, but one by one, each sheltering himself as well as he could: While Agasias the Stymphalian and Aristonymus of Methydria, who were also Captains belonging to the Rear, with some others, stood behind, without the Trees, for it was not safe for more than one Company to be there. Upon this Occasion Callimachus made Use of the following Stratagem. He advanc’d two or three Paces from the Tree under which he stood; but, as soon as the Stones began to fly, he quickly retir’d, and, upon every Excursion, more than ten Cart-Loads of Stones were consum’d. When Agasias saw what Callimachus was doing, and that the Eyes of the whole Army were upon him, fearing lest he should be the first Man who enter’d the Place, he, without giving any Notice to Aristonymus, who stood next to him, or to Eurylochus, of Lusia, both of whom were his friends, or to any other Person, advanc’d alone, with a Design to get before the rest. When Callimachus saw him passing by, he laid hold of the Border of his Shield. In the mean Time Aristonymus, and, after him, Eurylochus ran by them both: For all these were Rivals in Glory, and in constant Emulation of each other. And, by contending thus, they took the Place: For, the Moment one of them had gain’d the Ascent, there were no more Stones thrown from above. And here followed a dreadful Spectacle indeed; for the Women first threw their Children down the Precipice, and then themselves. Then Men did the same. And here Æneas the Stymphalian, a Captain, seeing one of the Barbarians, who was richly dress’d, running with a Design to throw himself down, caught hold of him, and the other drawing him after, they both fell down the Precipice together, and were dashed to Pieces. Thus we made very few Prisoners, but took a considerable Quantity of Oxen, Asses, and Sheep. From thence the Greeks advanc’d, through the Country of the Chalybians, and, in seven Marches, made fifty Parasangs. These being the most valiant People they met with in all their March, they came to a close engagement with the Greeks. They had linen Corslets that reach’d below their Navel, and, instead of Tassels, thick Cords twisted. They had also Greaves and Helmets, and at their Girdle a short Faulchion, like those of the Lacedæmonians, with which they cut the Throats of those they over-power’d, and afterwards, cutting off their Heads, carried them away in Triumph. It was their Custom to sing and dance, whenever they thought the Enemy saw them. They had Pikes fifteen Cubits in length, with only one Point. They staid in their Cities till the Greeks march’d past them, and then followed harassing them perpetually. After that they retir’d to their strong Holds, into which they had conveyed their Provisions: So that the Greeks could supply themselves with nothing out of their Country, but liv’d upon the Cattle they had taken from the Taochians. They now came to the River Harpasus, which was four hundred Feet broad. And from thence advanc’d through the Country of the Scythinians, and, in four Days’ March, made twenty Parasangs, passing through a Plain into some Villages; in which they staid three Days, and made their Provisions. From this Place they made, in four Days’ March, twenty Parasangs, to a large and rich City well inhabited: It was called Gymnias. The Governour of this Country sent a Person to the Greeks, to conduct them through the Territories of his Enemies. This Guide, coming to the Army, said he would undertake, in five Days, to carry them to a Place, from whence they should see the Sea. If not, he consented to be put to death. And, when he had conducted them into the Territories belonging to his Enemies, he desired them to lay waste the Country with Fire and Sword. By which it was evident that he came with this View, and not from any Good-will he bore to the Greeks. The fifth Day they arriv’d at the holy Mountain called Theches. As soon as the Men, who were in the Vanguard, ascended the Mountain, and saw the Sea, they gave a great Shout, which, when Xenophon and those in the Rear, heard, they concluded that some other Enemies attack’d them in Front, for the People belonging to the Country they had burn’d, follow’d their Rear, some of whom those who had Charge of it, had killed, and taken others Prisoners in an Ambuscade. They had also taken twenty Bucklers made of raw Ox-hides with the hair on. The Noise still increasing as they came nearer, and the Men, as fast as they came up, running to those who still continued Shouting, their Cries swelled with their Numbers, so that Xenophon, thinking something more than ordinary had happen’d, mounted on Horse-back, and, taking with him Lycius and his Horse, rode up to their Assistance: And presently they heard the Soldiers calling out “The Sea! The Sea!” and cheering one another. At this they all set a running, the Rear-guard as well as the rest, and the Beasts of Burden, and Horses were driven forward. When they were all come up to the Top of the Mountain, they embraced one another, and also their Generals and Captains with Tears in their Eyes. And Immediately the Men, by whose Order it is not known, bringing together a great many Stones, made a large Mount, upon which they plac’d a great Quantity of Shields made of raw Ox-hides, Staves, and Bucklers taken from the Enemy. The Guide himself cut the Bucklers in Pieces, and exhorted the rest to do the same. After this the Greeks sent back their Guide, giving him Presents out of the publick Stock, these were a Horse, a silver Cup, a Persian Dress, and ten Darics. But, above all Things the Guide desir’d the Soldiers to give him some of their Rings, many of which they gave him. Having therefore shewn them a Village, where they were to Quarter, and the Road that led to the Macronians, when the Evening came on, he departed, setting out on his Return that Night.[c] END OF THE MARCH [Sidenote: [401-399 B.C.]] At length, four months after the battle of Cunaxa, they entered Trapezus, the first Greek city they came to, and celebrated their safe arrival among their kindred with sacrifices and games. From this point they continued their retreat, some by sea and some by land. But when the air of Greece breathed upon them once more and the fear of the barbarians was overpast, discord and greed crept in amongst them, and they proved such troublesome guests that even the inhabitants of the Greek colonies along the southern shore of the Black Sea tried to get rid of them as speedily as possible. Making many raids in search of booty and suffering no small loss on the way, they came through Bithynia to Byzantium, and thence proceeded to the interior of Thrace, where Seuthes, who then ruled the country, engaged the rude and bellicose adventurers into whom the remnant of the Ten Thousand had degenerated. For some months they assisted him to extend his sovereignty over various Thracian tribes. Finally they were enlisted by the Spartans, who were then at war with the Persian empire, and so went back to Asia. The remnant of the whole force amounted to six thousand men, the distance they had traversed from the battle-field of Cunaxa to about the middle of the south coast of the Black Sea to not less than two thousand miles. This they had done in eight months. But the whole march, from Ephesus to Cunaxa and thence to this region on the Black Sea, occupied fifteen months (from February, 401, to the beginning of June, 400 B.C.), and the march from the latter place to the spot where they joined the Spartan army in Asia Minor (March, 399 B.C.) took nine months. Xenophon, who had rendered the most conspicuous service on this memorable march, returned to Greece after he had led the remnant of the Ten Thousand to the Spartan army in Asia Minor. Some years later he took part in the expedition against the Persians conducted by his friend the Spartan king, Agesilaus, and after the return of the latter fought at the battle of Coronea. While he was in Asia with Agesilaus he was banished from his native city by a vote of the people, because he had taken part in a war against the Persian king, who was at that time an ally of Athens, and because his aristocratic opinions and his preference for the political system of Sparta had earned him the hatred of the demagogues and the jealousy of the populace. After the battle of Coronea he accompanied Agesilaus to Sparta and remained there for a while, and then settled on a country estate in the neighbourhood of Olympia, which he had either received as a gift from the Spartans or bought with the great wealth he had amassed in Asia. Here and in Corinth he wrote some part of his works. The sentence of banishment from Athens was soon repealed, but it does not seem probable that he ever returned to his native city, though at a later time he induced his son Gryllus to take part in one of the military expeditions of the Athenians. Gryllus fell at the battle of Mantinea, and the story goes that the news of his death was brought to his aged father as he was standing by an altar, sacrificing to the gods. Xenophon was crowned with a garland, in accordance with the Greek custom of wearing wreaths upon festal occasions. He immediately took it from his head, but received the news of his son’s death with the utmost composure, saying that he knew he had only begotten a mortal. When he was told that Gryllus had fought with great valour, he put the garland on again, finished his sacrifice, and added to it a prayer in which he gave thanks to the gods for his son’s worthiness. Xenophon died at Corinth in (355 B.C.) the ninetieth year of his age.[e] THE MEANING OF XENOPHON’S FEAT [Sidenote: [399 B.C.]] The world has never ceased to thrill with a sympathetic memory of that glad cry of Xenophon’s Ten Thousand, “_Thalatta! Thalatta!_” (The sea! The sea!) It has a kinship with the feelings of the foot-sore and heart-sore children of Israel reaching the edge of the Promised Land. It stands out from above the usual crises of history as a temple dome above a town. It takes its place among such peaks of emotion as the view that Attila took of Rome, and the crusaders of the minarets of Jerusalem, the cry of “Land ho!” on the ships of Columbus. It finds a strangely modern parallel in the first ocean-glimpse of the American soldiers in Sherman’s march to the sea. Like all these picturesque incidents, it meant more than a merely dramatic moment to the history of mankind. It was a prelude in Greek history to the triumph of Alexander. It showed to the Greeks that their ambitions need not be confined to the small parishes they had dwelt in. It revealed the fact that the great realm of the Persian monarch, whom the Greeks always referred to as “The King,” was like Dead Sea fruit: brilliant in its shell, and hollow corruption at core. The only impetus the Greeks had felt towards a Panhellenic spirit had been inspired by the imminence of the Persian danger. They had with small bands of patriots dispersed the droves of oriental subjects brought against them, and yet they could not have dreamed that their success in an offensive war would be equal to the glory of the defensive struggle. But here was a lessening body of ten thousand Greeks, bound together by no common sentiment except a desire for money--which they did not get. And this comparative handful of mercenaries had ransacked the very innermost recesses of the Persian empire, and had never found an army great enough or brave enough to withstand it in open assault. The conquest of such an empire seemed to be within the grasp of any Greek commander. The first to attempt it was a second-rate Spartan king, Agesilaus, who failed. And the Persian empire resisted attack for five generations more, till the new blood of Macedonia and the unlimited ambitions of Alexander made the attempt. Until he came, the blows of the others were only so much callisthenics. When he came he was not loath to acknowledge, on the eve of the battle of Issus, the inspiration he owed to the feat of the Ten Thousand. Meanwhile, without reference to its remote bearings, the anabasis and catabasis of Xenophon’s army stand forth glorious in themselves. He himself sums up the achievement baldly at the conclusion of his work. [Sidenote: [401-399 B.C.]] “The governors of The King’s country, as much of it as we went through, were these: of Lydia, Artemas; of Phrygia, Artacamas; of Lycaonia and Cappadocia, Mithridates; of Cilicia, Syennesis; of Phœnicia and Arabia, Dernes; of Syria and Assyria, Belesys; of Babylon, Rhoparas; of Media, Arbaces; of the Phasiani and Hesperitæ, Tiribazus; the Carduchi, the Chalybes, the Chaldeans, the Macrones, the Colchians, the Mosynœci, the Cœtæ, and the Tibareni, were independent nations; of Paphlagonia, Corylas; of the Bithynians, Pharnabazus; and of the Thracians in Europe, Seuthes. “The computation of the whole journey, the anabasis and catabasis, was 215 days’ march, 1155 parasangs, 34,650 stadia. The length of time occupied in the anabasis and catabasis was one year and three months.” Reckoning the parasang at three and two-fifths miles, the total distance covered would therefore be 3927 miles in the course of fifteen months. The manuscripts do not all agree with regard to the numbers, but the total march may be accepted as nearly four thousand miles, through a country bristling with hostility and treachery, a country unmapped and unknown to the Greeks. This exploit of what might well be termed a pack of desperadoes looms high in history, both as an absolute feat of bravado and as a finger-post for Grecian ambition.[a] FOOTNOTES [5] [A parasang was equal to about 3⅖ English miles.] [6] [A daric, named after Darius, was a gold coin of about the weight of a sovereign, or five dollars. An Attic talent was valued at about £200 or $1000.] [Illustration] [Illustration: GREEK MEDAL] CHAPTER XLI. THE SPARTAN SUPREMACY There is an inevitable bias in the minds of most people towards the brilliant and refined ideals of Athens as opposed to the obstinate and barren creed of the Spartans. We have heard, therefore, more of the Athenian side than of the Spartan in their wars together. As we approach a period of Spartan glory, it is well to make a quick review and summary of her ideals and achievements down to this period, when, as the Spartophile Müller notes, Sparta won her advancement by discarding her venerable creeds. What follows must be read with the knowledge that it is from the pen of a Spartan partisan.[a] Sparta, by the conquest of Messenia and Tegea, had obtained the first rank in the Peloponnese, which character she confirmed by the expulsion of the tyrants, and the overthrow of Argos. From about the year 580 B.C. she acted as the recognised commander, not only of the Peloponnese, but of the whole Greek name. The confederacy itself, however, was formed by the inhabitants of that peninsula alone, on fixed and regular laws; whereas the other Greeks only annexed themselves to it temporarily. The order of precedence observed by the members of this league may be taken from the inscription on the footstool of the statue of Jupiter, which was dedicated at Olympia after the Persian War, the Ionians, who were only allied for a time, being omitted. It is as follows: Lacedæmon, Corinth, Sicyon, Ægina, Megara, Epidaurus, Tegea, Orchomenos, Phlius, Trœzen, Hermione, Tiryns, Mycenæ, Lepreum, and Elis; which state was contented with the last place, on account of the small share which it had taken in the war. The defenders of the isthmus are enumerated as follows: Lacedæmonians, Arcadians, Eleans, Corinthians, Sicyonians, Epidaurians, Phliasians, Trœzenians, and Hermionians, nearly agreeing with the other list, only that the Arcadians, having been present with their whole force, and also the Eleans, occupy an earlier place; and the Megarians and Æginetans are omitted, as having had no share in the defence. This regular order of precedence is alone a proof of a firm union. The Tegeatæ, since they had joined the side of Lacedæmon, enjoyed several privileges, and especially the place of honour at the left wing of the allied army. Argos remained excluded from the nations of the Peloponnesus, as it never would submit to the command of Sparta; the Achæans, indifferent to external affairs, only joined themselves momentarily to the alliance: but the Mantineans, though latterly they followed the policy of Argos, were long attached to the Peloponnesian league; for at the end of the Persian War they sent an army, which arrived too late for the battle of Platæa: having before, together with the other Arcadians, helped to defend the isthmus; they had also been engaged in the first days of the action at Thermopylæ, and they were at this time still the faithful allies of the Lacedæmonians. Their subsequent defection from Sparta may be attributed partly to their endeavours to obtain the dominion of Parrhasia, which was protected by Lacedæmon, to their hostility with Tegea, which remained true to Sparta after the great war with Arcadia, which began about 470 B.C., and to the strengthening of their city, and the establishment of a democratic government, through the influence of Argos. [Sidenote: [480-432 B.C.]] The supremacy of Sparta was exercised in the expeditions of the whole confederacy, and in transactions of the same nature. In the first, the Spartan king--after it had been thought proper never to send out two together--was commander-in-chief, in whose powers there were many remains of the authority of the ancient Homeric princes. Occasionally, however, Sparta was compelled to give up her privilege to other commanders, especially at sea, as, for instance, the fleet at Salamis to Eurybiades. When any expedition was contemplated, the Spartans sent round to the confederate states, to desire them to have men and stores in readiness. The highest amount which each state could be called on to supply was fixed once for all, and it was only on each particular occasion to be determined what part of that was required. In like manner the supplies in money and stores were regularly appointed; so that an army, with all its equipment, could be collected by a simple summons. But agricultural labour, festivals, and the natural slowness of the Doric race, often very much retarded the assembling of this army. The contributions, chiefly perhaps voluntary, both of states and individuals, were registered on stone: and there is still extant an inscription, found at Tegea, in which the war-supplies of the Ephesians, Melians, etc., in money and in corn, are recorded. But the Lacedæmonians never exacted from the Peloponnesian confederacy a regular annual contribution, independent of circumstances; which would have been, in fact, a tribute: a measure of this kind being once proposed to King Archidamus, he answers, “that war did not consume according to rule.” Pericles, however, properly considers it as a disadvantage to the Peloponnesians that they had no paid troops, and that they had amassed no treasure. The object of an expedition was publicly declared: occasionally, however, when secrecy was required, it was known neither to the states nor to their army. The single allied states, if necessity demanded it, could also immediately summon the army of the others; but it is not clear to what extent this call was binding upon them. The Spartan military constitution, which we will explain hereafter, extended to the whole allied army; but it was doubtless variously combined with the tactics of the several nations. To the council of war, which, moreover, only debated, and did not decide, the Spartan king summoned the leaders of the several states, together with other commanders, and generally the most distinguished persons in the army. According to the constitution of the Peloponnesian league, every common action, such as a declaration of war, or the conclusion of a peace or treaty, was agreed on at a congress of the confederates. But, as there was no regular assembly of this kind, the several states sent envoys (ἄγγελοι), like the deputies (πρόβουλοι), of the Ionians, who generally remained together only for a short time. All the members had legally equal votes (ἰσόψηφοι); and the majority sometimes decided against a strong opposition; Sparta was often outvoted, Corinth being at all times willing to raise an opposition. We have, however, little information respecting the exact state of the confederacy; it is probable, from the aristocratic feelings of the Peloponnesians, that, upon the whole, authority had more weight than numbers; and for great undertakings, such as the Peloponnesian War, the assent of the chief state was necessary, in addition to the agreement of the other confederates. When the congress was summoned to Sparta, the envoys often treated with a public assembly of the Spartans. But upon the internal affairs, laws, and institutions of the allied states, the confederacy had legally no influence. It was a fundamental law that every state should, according to its ancient customs, be independent and supreme; and it is much to the credit of Sparta, that, so long as the league was in existence, she never, not even when a favourable opportunity offered, deprived any Peloponnesian state of this independence. Nor were disputes between individual states brought before the congress of the allies, which, on account of the preponderance of Sparta, would have endangered their liberty; but they were commonly either referred to the Delphian oracle, or to arbitrators chosen by both states. For disputes between citizens of different states there was an entirely free and equal intercourse of justice. The jurisdiction of the states was also absolutely exempt from foreign interference. These are the chief features of the constitution of the Peloponnesian confederacy; the only one which in the flourishing times of Greece combined extensive powers with justice, and a respect for the independence of its weaker members. [Sidenote: [580-479 B.C.]] Sparta had not become the head of this league by agreement, and still less by usurpation; but by tacit acknowledgment she was the leader, not only of this, but of the whole of Greece; and she acted as such in all foreign relations from about the year 580 B.C. Her alliance was courted by Crœsus: and the Ionians, when pressed by Cyrus, had recourse to the Spartans, who, with an amusing ignorance of the state of affairs beyond the sea, thought to terrify the king of Persia by the threat of hostilities. It is a remarkable fact, that there were at that time Scythian envoys in Sparta, with whom a great plan of operations against Persia is said to have been concerted. In the year 520 B.C. the Platæans put themselves under the protection of Cleomenes, who referred them to Athens; a herald from Sparta drove the Alcmæonidæ from their city: afterwards Aristagoras sought from the protector of Greece aid against the national enemy: and when the Æginetans gave the Persians earth and water, the Athenians accused them of treachery before the Spartans: and lastly, during the Persian War, Greece found in the high character of that state the only means of effecting the union so necessary for her safety and success. In this war a new confederacy was formed, which was extended beyond the Peloponnese; the community of danger and of victory having, besides a momentary combination, also produced a union destined for some duration. It was the assembly of this league--a fixed congress at Corinth during, and at Sparta after, the war--that settled the internal differences of Greece, that invited Argos, Corcyra, and Gelo to join the league, and afterwards called upon Themistocles to answer for his proceedings. So much it did for the present emergency. But at the same time Pausanias, the regent of Sparta, after the great victory of Platæa, prevailed upon the allies to conclude a further treaty. Under the auspices of the gods of the confederacy, particularly of the Eleutherian (or Grecian) Jupiter, they pledged themselves mutually to maintain the independence of all states, and to many other conditions, of which the memory has been lost. To the Platæans in particular security from danger was promised. The Ionians also, after the battle of Mycale, were received into this confederacy. The splendid victories over the Persians had for some time taken Sparta, which was fitted for a quiet and passive existence, out of her natural sphere; and her king, Pausanias, had wished to betray his country for the glitter of an Asiatic prince. But this state soon perceived her true interest, and sent no more commanders to Asia, “that her generals might not be made worse”: she likewise wished to avoid any further war with the Persians, thinking that Athens was better fitted to carry it on than herself. If the speech were now extant in which Hetoëmaridas the Heraclid proved to the councillors that it was not expedient for Sparta to aim at the mastery of the sea, we should doubtless possess a profound view, on the Spartan side, of those things which we are now accustomed to look on with Athenian eyes. Nor is it true that the supremacy over the Greeks was in fact transferred at all from Sparta to Athens, if we consider the matter as Sparta considered it, however great the influence of this change may have been on the power of Athens. But Sparta continued to hold its pre-eminence in the Peloponnese, and most of the nations of the mother-country joined themselves to her: while none but the Greeks of Asia Minor and the islands, who had previously been subjects of Persia, and were then only partially liberated, perhaps too much despised by Sparta, put themselves under the command of Athens. But the complete liberation of Asia Minor from the Persian yoke, which has been considered one of the chief exploits of Athens, was in fact never effected. The Athenian empire did not prevent the vassals and subjects of the king of Persia from ruling over the Greeks of Asia Minor, even down to the very coast. We need not go any further to prove the entire falsehood of the account commonly given by the panegyrical rhetoricians of Athens. [Illustration: GREEK SHOVELS (In the British Museum)] [Sidenote: [479-465 B.C.]] The Peloponnese took the less concern in these proceedings, as internal differences had arisen from some unknown cause, which led to an open war between Sparta and Arcadia. We only know that, between the battle of Platæa (in which Tegea, as also later still, showed great fidelity towards Sparta) and the war with the Helots (_i.e._ between 479 and 465 B.C.), the Lacedæmonians fought two great battles, the one against the Tegeatæ and Argives at Tegea, the other against all the Arcadians, with the exception of the Mantineans, at Dipæa (ἐν Διπαιεῦοιν), in the Mænalian territory. Tisamenus, an Elean, of the family of the Iamidæ, was in both battles in the Spartan army; and in both Sparta was victorious. [Sidenote: [465-451 B.C.]] This war had not been brought to a termination, when, in the year 465 B.C., a tremendous earthquake destroyed Sparta, and a sudden ruin threatened to overwhelm the chief state of Greece. For, in the hope of utterly annihilating their rulers, many helots revolted, and the war was called the Third Messenian War. Upon this the Lacedæmonians, foreseeing a tedious siege, called in the aid of their allies; and this call was answered among others by the Athenians; the Spartans, however, dismissed them, as we have seen, before the fortress was taken. Immediately after the dismission of the Athenians from Ithome, the injured people of Athens annulled the alliance with Sparta, which had subsisted since the Persian War. Then followed the war with the maritime towns of Argolis, in which Athens, after many reverses, at length succeeded in destroying the fleet of Ægina, and subjugating that island (457 B.C.). The inactivity of Sparta during these astonishing successes of her enemy (for when she concluded the armistice with Athens she must have partly foreseen its consequences) seems to prove that she was entirely occupied with the final capture of Ithome, and the settlement of her interests in Arcadia. The five years’ truce in 451 B.C. was only an armistice between Athens and the Peloponnesian confederacy, which left Bœotia to shake off the Athenian yoke by her own exertions. At the end of these five years Megara revolted from the Athenians, and in consequence an invasion of Attica by the Peloponnesians took place, which, though it did not produce any immediate result, was soon followed by the Thirty Years’ Truce, in which Athens ceded her conquests in Megaris and the Peloponnese, and on the mainland returned within her ancient boundaries. If now we consider the events which have been briefly traced it will be perceived, that the principle on which the Lacedæmonians constantly acted was one of self-defence, of restoring what had been lost, or preserving what was threatened with danger; whereas the Athenians were always aiming at attack or conquest, or the change of existing institutions. While the Spartans during this period, even after the greatest victories, did not conquer a foot of land, subjugate one independent state, or destroy one existing institution; the Athenians, for a longer or for a shorter time, reduced large tracts of country under their dominion, extended their alliance (as it was called) on all sides, and respected no connection when it came in conflict with their plans of empire. But the astonishing energy of the Athenians, which from one point kept the whole of Greece in constant vibration, almost paralysed Sparta; the natural slowness of that state became more and more apparent: which having been, as it were, violently transplanted into a strange region, only began by degrees to comprehend the policy of Athens. It is manifest that the maxims of the Athenian policy were directly at variance with the general feeling of justice entertained by the Greeks, and especially to the respect for affinity of blood; and this fundamental difference was the true cause of the Peloponnesian War. In the first place then, Dorians were opposed to Ionians; and hence in the well-known oracle it was called the Doric War. It was a union of the free Greeks against the evil ambition of one state: of land forces against sea forces: the fleet of the Peloponnesians was at the beginning of the war very inconsiderable. Hence it was some time before the belligerent parties even so much as encountered one another; the land was the means of communication for one party, the sea for the other: hence the states friendly to Athens were immediately compelled to build Long Walls for the purpose of connecting the chief city with the sea, and isolating it from the land. Large bodies of men practised in war fought against wealth: the Peloponnesians carried on the war with natives; whereas Athens manned her fleet--the basis of her power--chiefly with foreign seamen; so that the Corinthians said justly that the power of Athens was rather purchased than native. It was the main principle of Pericles’ policy, and it is also adopted by Thucydides in the famous introduction to his _History_, that it is not the country and people, but moveable and personal property in the proper sense of the word, which make states great and powerful. The war meant the maintenance of ancient custom as opposed to the desire for novelty: the former was the chief feature of the Doric, the latter of the Ionic race. The Dorians wished to preserve their ancient dignity and power, as well as their customs and religious feelings: the Ionians were commonly in pursuit of something new. It was a union of nations and tribes against one arbitrarily formed: aristocracy was pitted against democracy: this difference was manifested in the first half of the war by Athens changing, while Sparta only restored governments; for in this instance also the power of Sparta was in strictness only employed in upholding ancient establishments, as an aristocracy may indeed be overthrown, but cannot be formed in a moment. [Illustration: GRECIAN TERRA-COTTA STATUETTE (In the British Museum)] These obvious points of difference are sufficient to substantiate the result which we wish to arrive at. The “honesty and openness” of the Doric character, the noble simplicity of the ancient times of Greece, soon disappeared in this tumultuous age. Sparta therefore and the Peloponnesians emerge from the contest, altered, and as it were reversed; and even before its termination appear in a character of which they had before probably contained only the first seeds. [Sidenote: [460-405 B.C.]] But in the second half of the war, when the Spartans gave up their great armaments by land, and began to equip fleets with hired seamen; when they had learnt to consider money as the chief instrument of warfare, and begged it at the court of Persia; when they sought less to protect the states joined to them by affinity and alliance, than to dissolve the Athenian confederacy; when they began to secure conquered states by harmosts of their own, and by oligarchs forced upon the people, and found that the secret management of the political clubs was more to their interest than open negotiation with the government; we see developed on the one hand an energy and address, which was first manifested in the enterprises of the great Brasidas, and on the other a worldly policy, as was shown in Gylippus, and afterwards more strongly in Lysander; when the descendants of Hercules found it advisable to exchange the lion’s for the fox’s skin. And since the enterprises conducted in the spirit of earlier times either wholly failed or else remained fruitless, this new system, though the state had inwardly declined, brought with it, by the mockery of fate, external fame and victory.[b] Whatever nobility of creed the Sparta-loving Müller has, as above, claimed for Sparta up to this time, it is certain that the sudden accession of vast and unforeseen power changed her to a mood in which, as Bury says, “she cynically set aside her high moral professions and yielded to a lust for oppression.” Grote was no lover of Sparta and yet he substantiates well his accusations against her.[a] GROTE’S COMPARISON OF SPARTAN AND ATHENIAN RULE [Sidenote: [405-404 B.C.]] The Spartan empire began with the decisive victory of Ægospotami in the Hellespont (September or October 405 B.C.). The whole power of Athens was thus annihilated, and nothing remained for the Lacedæmonians to master except the city itself and Piræus; a consummation certain to happen, and actually brought to pass in April 404 B.C., when Lysander entered Athens in triumph, dismantled Piræus, and demolished a large portion of the Long Walls. With the exception of Athens herself--whose citizens deferred the moment of subjection by an heroic, though unavailing, struggle against the horrors of famine--and of Samos, no other Grecian city offered any resistance to Lysander after the battle of Ægospotami; which in fact not only took away from Athens her whole naval force, but transferred it all over to him, and rendered him admiral of a larger Grecian fleet than had ever been seen together since the battle of Salamis. The allies, especially Thebes and Corinth, not only relented in their hatred and fear of Athens, now that she had lost her power--but even sympathised with her suffering exiles, and became disgusted with the self-willed encroachments of Sparta; while the Spartan king Pausanias, together with some of the ephors, were also jealous of the arbitrary and oppressive conduct of Lysander. We have learned from dark, but well-attested details, to appreciate the auspices under which that period of history called the Lacedæmonian empire was inaugurated. Such phenomena were by no means confined within the walls of Athens. On the contrary, the Year of Anarchy (using that term in the sense in which it was employed by the Athenians) arising out of the same combination of causes and agents, was common to a very large proportion of the cities throughout Greece. The Lacedæmonian admiral Lysander, during his first year of naval command, had organised in most of the allied cities factious combinations of some of the principal citizens, corresponding with himself personally. By their efforts in their respective cities he was enabled to prosecute the war vigorously, and he repaid them, partly by seconding as much as he could their injustices in their respective cities, partly by promising to strengthen their hands still further as soon as victory should be made sure. In the greater number of cities, he established an oligarchy of ten citizens, or a decarchy, composed of his own partisans; while he at the same time planted in each a Lacedæmonian harmost or governor, with a garrison, to uphold the new oligarchy. The decarchy of ten Lysandrian partisans, with the Lacedæmonian harmost to sustain them, became the general scheme of Hellenic government throughout the Ægean, from Eubœa to the Thracian coast towns, and from Miletus to Byzantium. Lysander sailed round in person with his victorious fleet to Byzantium and Chalcedon, to the cities of Lesbos, to Thasos, and other places--while he sent Eteonicus to Thrace for the purpose of thus recasting the governments everywhere. Not merely those cities which had hitherto been on the Athenian side, but also those which had acted as allies of Sparta, were subjected to the same intestine revolution and the same foreign constraint. Everywhere the new Lysandrian decarchy superseded the previous governments, whether oligarchical or democratical. In what spirit these new decarchies would govern, consisting as they did of picked oligarchical partisans distinguished for audacity and ambition--who, to all the unscrupulous lust of power which characterised Lysander himself, added a thirst for personal gain, from which he was exempt, and were now about to reimburse themselves for services already rendered to him--the general analogy of Grecian history would sufficiently teach us, though we are without special details. But in reference to this point, we have not merely general analogy to guide us; we have further the parallel case of the Thirty at Athens, the particulars of whose rule are well known and have already been alluded to. Isocrates, who speaks with indignant horror of these decarchies, while he denounces those features which they had in common with the triacontarchy at Athens--extrajudicial murders, spoliations, and banishments--notices one enormity besides, which we do not find in the latter: violent outrages upon boys and women. Nothing of this kind is ascribed to Critias and his companions; and it is a considerable proof of the restraining force of Athenian manners, that men who inflicted so much evil in gratification of other violent impulses, should have stopped short here. The decemvirs named by Lysander, like the decemvir Appius Claudius at Rome, would find themselves armed with power to satiate their lusts as well as their antipathies, and would not be more likely to set bounds to the former than to the latter. Lysander, in all the overweening insolence of victory, while rewarding his most devoted partisans with an exaltation comprising every sort of licence and tyranny, stained the dependent cities with countless murders, perpetrated on private as well as on public grounds. No individual Greek had ever before wielded so prodigious a power of enriching friends or destroying enemies, as in this universal reorganisation of Greece; nor was there ever any power more deplorably abused. Taking all these causes of evil together--the decarchies, the harmosts, and the overwhelming dictatorship of Lysander--and construing other parts of the Grecian world by the analogy of Athens under the Thirty, we shall be warranted in affirming that the first years of the Spartan empire, which followed upon the victory of Ægospotami, were years of all-pervading tyranny, and multifarious intestine calamity, such as Greece had never before endured. The hardships of war, severe in many ways, were now at an end, but they were replaced by a state of suffering not the less difficult to bear because it was called peace. And what made the suffering yet more intolerable was, that it was a bitter disappointment and a flagrant violation of promises proclaimed, repeatedly and explicitly, by the Lacedæmonians themselves. For more than thirty years preceding--from times earlier than the commencement of the Peloponnesian War--the Spartans had professed to interfere only for the purpose of liberating Greece, and of putting down the usurped ascendency of Athens. Like the allied sovereigns of Europe in 1813, who, requiring the most strenuous efforts on the part of the people to contend against the Emperor Napoleon, promised free constitutions, and granted nothing after the victory had been assured--the Lacedæmonians held out the most emphatic and repeated assurances of general autonomy in order to enlist allies against Athens; disavowing, even ostentatiously, any aim at empire for themselves. The victory of Ægospotami, with its consequences, cruelly undeceived every one. The language of Brasidas, sanctioned by the solemn oaths of the Lacedæmonian ephors, in 424 B.C., and the proceedings of the Lacedæmonian Lysander in 405-404 B.C., the commencing hour of Spartan omnipotence, stand in such literal and flagrant contradiction, that we might almost imagine the former to have foreseen the possibility of such a successor, and to have tried to disgrace and disarm him beforehand. There was no present necessity for conciliating allies--still less for acting up to former engagements; so that nothing remained to oppose the naturally ambitious inspirations of the Spartan ephors, who allowed the admiral to carry out the details in his own way. But former assurances, though Sparta was in a condition to disregard them, were not forgotten by others; and the recollection of them imparted additional bitterness to the oppressions of the decemvirs and harmosts. In perfect consistency with her misrule throughout eastern Greece, too, Sparta identified herself with the energetic tyranny of Dionysius at Syracuse, assisting both to erect and to uphold it; a contradiction to her former maxims of action which would have astounded the historian Herodotus. [Sidenote: [405-371 B.C.]] The empire of Sparta, thus constituted at the end of 405 B.C., maintained itself in full grandeur for somewhat above ten years, until the naval battle of Cnidus in 394 B.C. That defeat destroyed her fleet and maritime ascendency, yet left her in undiminished power on land, which she still maintained until her defeat by the Thebans, at Leuctra in 371 B.C. Throughout all this time, it was her established system to keep up Spartan harmosts and garrisons in the dependent cities on the continent as well as in the islands. Even the Chians, who had been her most active allies during the last eight years of the war, were compelled to submit to this hardship; besides having all their fleet taken away from them. But the native decarchies, though at first established by Lysander universally throughout the maritime dependencies, did not last as a system so long as the harmosts. Composed as they were to a great degree of the personal nominees and confederates of Lysander, they suffered in part by the reactionary jealousy which in time made itself felt against his overweening ascendency. After continuing for some time, they lost the countenance of the Spartan ephors, who proclaimed permission to the cities (we do not precisely know when) to resume their pre-existing governments. Some of the decarchies thus became dissolved, or modified in various ways, but several probably still continued to subsist, if they had force enough to maintain themselves; for it does not appear that the ephors ever systematically put them down as Lysander had systematically set them up. Such then was the result throughout Greece when that long war, which had been undertaken in the name of universal autonomy, was terminated by the battle of Ægospotami. In place of imperial Athens was substituted, not the promised autonomy, but yet more imperial Sparta. An awful picture is given by the philo-Laconian Xenophon, in 399 B.C., of the ascendency exercised throughout all the Grecian cities, not merely by the ephors and the public officers, but even by the private citizens, of Sparta. We have more than one picture of the Athenian empire in speeches made by hostile orators who had every motive to work up the strongest antipathies in the bosoms of their audience against it. We have the addresses of the Corinthian envoys at Sparta when stimulating the Spartan allies to the Peloponnesian War; that of the envoys from Mytilene delivered at Olympia to the Spartan confederates, when the city had revolted from Athens and stood in pressing need of support; the discourse of Brasidas in the public assembly at Acanthus; and more than one speech also from Hermocrates, impressing upon his Sicilian countrymen hatred as well as fear of Athens. Whoever reads these discourses, will see that they dwell almost exclusively on the great political wrong inherent in the very fact of her empire, robbing so many Grecian communities of their legitimate autonomy, over and above the tribute imposed. That Athens had thus already enslaved many cities, and was only watching for opportunities to enslave many more, is the theme upon which they expatiate. But of practical grievances--of cruelty, oppression, spoliation, multiplied exiles, etc., of high-handed wrong committed by individual Athenians--not one word is spoken. Had there been the smallest pretext for introducing such inflammatory topics, how much more impressive would have been the appeal of Brasidas to the sympathies of the Acanthians! How vehement would have been the denunciations of the Mytilenean envoys, in place of the tame and almost apologetic language which we now read in Thucydides! Athens extinguished the autonomy of her subject-allies, and punished revolters with severity, sometimes even with cruelty. But as to other points of wrong, the silence of accusers, such as those just noticed, counts as a powerful exculpation. [Sidenote: [405-403 B.C.]] The case is altered when we come to the period succeeding the battle of Ægospotami. Here indeed also, we find the Spartan empire complained of (as the Athenian empire had been before), in contrast with that state of autonomy to which each city laid claim, and which Sparta not merely promised to ensure, but set forth as her only ground of war. Yet this is not the prominent grievance--other topics stand more emphatically forward. The decemvirs and the harmosts (some of the latter being helots), the standing instruments of Spartan empire, are felt as more sorely painful than the empire itself; as the language held by Brasidas at Acanthus admits them to be beforehand. At the time when Athens was a subject city under Sparta, governed by the Lysandrian Thirty and by the Lacedæmonian harmost in the Acropolis--the sense of indignity arising from the fact of subjection was absorbed in the still more terrible suffering arising from the enormities of those individual rulers whom the imperial state had set up. Now Athens set up no local rulers--no native Ten or native Thirty--no resident Athenian harmosts or garrisons. This was of itself an unspeakable exemption, when compared with the condition of cities subject, not only to the Spartan empire, but also under that empire to native decemvirs like Critias, and Spartan harmosts like Aristarchus or Aristodemus. A city subject to Athens had to bear definite burdens enforced by its own government, which was liable in case of default or delinquency to be tried before the popular Athenian dicastery. But this same dicastery (as is distinctly stated by Thucydides) was the harbour of refuge to each subject city; not less against individual Athenian wrong-doers than against misconduct from other cities. In no one point can it be shown that the substitution of Spartan empire in place of Athenian was a gain, either for the subject cities or for Greece generally; while in many points it was a great and serious aggravation of suffering. And this abuse of power is the more deeply to be regretted, as Sparta enjoyed after the battle of Ægospotami a precious opportunity--such as Athens had never had, and such as never again recurred--of reorganising the Grecian world on wise principles, and with a view to Panhellenic stability and harmony. She now stood without competitor as leader of the Grecian world, and might at that moment have reasonably hoped to carry the members of it along with her to any liberal and Panhellenic organisation, had she attempted it with proper earnestness. Unfortunately she took the opposite course, under the influence of Lysander; founding a new empire far more oppressive and odious than that of Athens, with few of the advantages, and none of the excuses, attached to the latter. As she soon became even more unpopular than Athens, _her_ moment of high tide, for beneficent Panhellenic combination, passed away also--never to return.[c] HARSHNESS OF THE SPARTAN HEGEMONY [Sidenote: [405-353 B.C.]] The Peloponnesian War had been disastrous in its consequences to public morals. Its long duration and peculiarly bloody character, arousing everywhere mistrust, exciting passions, deifying brute force, had wrought a deterioration in the Greek nature from which it never fully recovered. There was ferocity on the battle-field, a ferocity in the party contests. “This,” says Aristotle, “is the oath administered to-day in several cities by the oligarchy: ‘I will be the enemy of the people and will do them all the evil I can.’” We may indeed place against this homicidal oath that taken by the heliasts of Athens after the tyranny: “I will forget all past ills and will permit no one else to remember and give them mention.” But Athens even in its decadence was always Athens liberal and generous, even as its mutilated statues remain beautiful in all their degradation. [Illustration: GREEK URN (In the British Museum)] The system of warfare had also changed. We have shown how one military revolution had already occurred; the replacing of the aristocratic army of former times by the democratic army of the fifth and sixth centuries. And now the age of mercenaries was being ushered in by the employment, in all Greek cities, of hired soldiers to fight beside their citizen troops. But to pay these hirelings money was required, and Greece applied to Persia, who alone had money; hence her mendicant attitude towards the Great King, and the continual intervention of Xerxes’ successors in Hellenic affairs. This dependence on a foreign power and harshness of the public temper were first observed during the last years of the war; they are found again in the year after peace was concluded, the Year of Anarchy, as the Greeks called the commencement of the Spartan dominion. Blood flowed everywhere because everywhere were established oligarchical governments. A massacre occurred at Thasos. At Miletus eight hundred citizens belonging to the popularist party were lured from their retreats by Lysander and put to death. At Byzantium, Œtœa, and the greater part of the towns of Asia Minor similar outrages were committed. At Samos the inhabitants were all banished, with the privilege of taking away but a single garment. The defection of Chios and its navy had assured Sparta’s triumph; as a reward its most prominent citizens were sent into exile and all its triremes were seized. Lycophron, a Pheræan, made himself master of the province of Thessaly after desperate battles. “Thereafter,” relates Xenophon, “a Lacedæmonian’s lightest word was obeyed; even a citizen in private life could arrange everything to his will.” Xenophon himself appears to have shared this terror, since after the retreat of the Ten Thousand he refused the title of general-in-chief that his companions wished to bestow upon him, fearing that Sparta might view with disfavour the placing of command in the hands of an Athenian. The islanders, especially those who had betrayed the cause of Athens, hoped that with the accession to power of Lacedæmonia who was an ally of the Great King the duties established by Aristides and Pericles to protect their commerce would be removed. But they found they had simply changed masters, Sparta continuing to levy the former tribute, which amounted annually to 1000 talents [£200,000 or $1,000,000]. Athens, more adroit in establishing her empire, had proceeded without cruelty, violence, or spoliation, hence had not known, even in her time of greatest misfortune, the falling-off of her supports. Sparta was not so wise in the formation of kingdoms; force was the only instrument of which she knew the use, and with her the use of it was the abuse of it. Athens had also made use of force, but had always associated with it justice. Athens had made itself the political, military, and judiciary centre of the empire, and further, it was the metropolis of arts and letters for all Hellas. Nothing great or glorious, nothing useful or full of promise, could proceed from the Lacedæmonian dominion; it threatened to topple over in the hour of its erection. A thousand causes were at work to bring about a rapid dissolution; many of these were in Sparta or Greece, the rest in other lands. DEGENERACY OF SPARTA [Sidenote: [353-240 B.C.]] The results of Lycurgus’ institutions continued to be made manifest. The Spartan city diminished in population from day to day, as though worn away by the friction of its iron institutions. The narrow circle, which it had drawn round itself, never widening but always growing smaller, finally came to enclose but an insignificant number of Spartans. Great numbers had perished in the wars, others cast by poverty into the lower classes could no longer take their seats at the public tables. Aristotle says, “Whoever is without means to contribute to the expense of these tables must forfeit his political rights.” The Spartans knew that they were menaced with destruction through lack of citizens; the cry that arose when the four hundred and twenty Spartan soldiers were imprisoned on the island of Sphacteria, still rang in every ear. Aristotle further states: “The territory of Sparta that is capable of providing sustenance for fifteen hundred cavalry and thirty thousand hoplites, to-day barely supports a thousand warriors.” In the assemblies of four thousand, there were scarcely to be seen forty Spartans; moreover, inequality of conditions grew as the people decreased in number. Gold and silver currency had for a long time ceased to be proscribed and the disinterestedness of the Lacedæmonians to be extolled. Numerous examples of their venality were known; Eurybiades had been bought by Themistocles, Plistoanax and Cleandridas by Pericles, Leotychides by the Aleuadæ, the admiral and captains of the fleet by Tissaphernes. The kings, the senators, the ephors, all had repeatedly received bribes, and Gylippus, the liberator of Syracuse, who had been charged to carry to Sparta the plunder of Athens, kept back for his own use thirty talents [£6000 or $30,000]. Hence the remark of an interlocutor in the _Alcibiades_: “There is more gold and silver in Lacedæmonia than in all the rest of Greece; money flows to it from all parts and once there remains; the country is like a lion’s cave, one sees the footprints of those who enter, but of footsteps leaving there is no trace.” The commanders who returned from ports in Asia brought with them great wealth, and more than that a taste for luxury and ease, in a word, corruption; every one plunged into wild extravagance and the vices engendered by the possession of riches. [Sidenote: [405-240 B.C.]] After the Peloponnesian War, the ephor Epitadeus had passed a law authorising citizens to dispose of their property and land. The effects of this rhetra were so prompt to appear that Aristotle was given cause to write: “The land has passed into the hands of a few.” In the time of Agis IV the entire territory was owned by a hundred Spartans. Thus the government had become more and more oligarchical. All the national affairs were carried on by the ephors and the senate, even the general assembly was rarely consulted, and in consequence the rulers, being few in number, were all the more jealous of the privileges of their station and less disposed to suffer them to be curtailed. To open their ranks, moreover, for the readmission of families that poverty had driven forth would have been to expose themselves, by relinquishing the majority, to some territorial reform tending toward a fresh division of the immense domains now concentrated in the possession of a few. Public interest might point this way but private interest decidedly opposed it, and private interest won. There resulted from this a violent hatred between the privileged and the lower classes; the latter being formed of Spartans degraded from their ranks, enfranchised helots, Laconians to whom had been accorded certain rights, and the children of Spartan fathers of the higher order and alien mothers. These classes were given denominations that kept them separate and distinct; there was doubtless also a wide difference in conditions. Below the Equals, who formed a restricted oligarchy, were the Inferiors, or Spartans, who were excluded from the public tables, and the _neodamodes_ or helots enfranchised for services rendered the state, and lastly the _periœci_. Though they had no share in the actual government of their country these men estimated highly the value of their services to the state; and at different times many prominent figures, sons of Spartan fathers and helot mothers, such as Lysander, Gylippus, and Callicratidas had issued from this class. In a vindictive address against Lacedæmon the Thebans at Athens declared that the Spartans recruited their military governors from among men who had helot blood in their veins; and indeed many of these people had amassed competencies that gave them the ambition to leave the inferior station in which custom held them. When Cleomenes III promised liberty to those among the helots who could pay into the public treasury the sum of five minæ [£21 or $108], six thousand presented themselves. Lacedæmon’s two royal houses, however, had been retained, and it should have been the function of these to maintain discipline in the state. But the newly-acquired wealth of Sparta, coupled with the growing authority of the ephors, appreciably diminished the power of the kings. Reduced to the rôle of hereditary generals these monarchs could never depart on an expedition without being accompanied by ten supervisors, who, under the name of councillors, in reality directed all the military operations. During the last years of the Peloponnesian War the decisive battles had been fought on sea, and the fleets were commanded, captives sold, cities ransomed and subsidies received from the Great King by men who were not of pure Spartan blood. Aristotle in his _Politics_ calls the office of admiral among them “a second royalty.” Lysander was not obeying the dictates of ambition when, as Sparta’s leading citizen, he undertook to reform for his own advantage the political system of the city. “He could not,” says Plutarch, “see without regret a city whose glory he had done so much to increase governed by kings who had no more ability to rule than he, so he formed the plan of depriving the reigning houses of their dignity to make it the common appanage of all the Heraclids.” The discovery of the plot of Cinadon [described later] revealed an abyss of hatred yawning beneath the social system of Sparta, and at the same time an alarming unanimity of feeling between the inferior classes, both free and slaves. A civil war could easily have resulted from the situation; but Sparta, with that vigilance which continued distrust arouses in all oligarchies, discovered and baffled all the plots that were formed against her. Yet in spite of this hostility between the classes, in spite of many other difficulties, such as strife between the kings on the one hand and the senators and the ephors on the other, in which the kings were reduced almost to the condition of subjects, and rivalry between the kings themselves, the Spartan government, by reason of concentration of authority in a few hands, was powerful enough for action against other states. At home and abroad the ephors and the harmosts, those so-called conciliators, exercised a permanent dictatorship, maintaining garrisons at Megara, Ægina, Tanagra, Pharsalus, Heraclea in Trachinia, at the entrance of Thermopylæ; also Dionysius of Syracuse was Sparta’s ally. But this power, widespread as it was, was scarcely more than an influence, and an influence that was already on the wane, since the nation that lacks citizens has no resources within itself. Sparta’s exactions offended those who still loved liberty and had not, to console them for its loss, the advantages offered by Athens to her subjects--extensive commerce, and the splendour of public festivals, of arts and of poetry. Sparta, equally grasping and more oppressive, robbed her subjects of everything. She levied on them an annual tribute of one thousand talents [£200,000 or $1,000,000] which vanished in Lacedæmon never to be seen again, and those who had furnished her with troops, like the Achæans and Arcadians, or with vessels, like the Corinthians, or auxiliaries, like the Thebans, received nothing in return. The weight of this heavy Dorian rule began shortly to be felt, and many regretted the Athenian supremacy that was kindly even in its excesses. That the Greeks from the coasts of Thrace or Asia, those people who had never known how to say “No,” should tremble at sight of a Spartan mantle or wand of office, was in no way remarkable, since they had been accustomed to obey. Not that a double servitude, that of the oligarchs, friends of Lysander, and that of the Lacedæmonian harmosts was not a great burden to bear, even for them. But Sparta must not count on such docility in the mother-country. She had not hesitated to speak as sovereign in the matter of the Athenian exiles, nor to make decrees, as sole authority, for all Greece. We have seen how Thebes responded. Thebes, a continental power, had long aspired to play in central Greece the part played by Sparta in the Peloponnesus. Between this state and Athens there might be jealousy, but not necessarily a clash of interests as in her relations with Lacedæmonia. In the intoxication of victory Sparta had believed prudence no longer necessary, and, incensed that the Thebans should have taken at Decelea the tithe belonging to Apollo, had scornfully rejected their claims to a share in the spoils and treasures brought back by Lysander, fourteen hundred and seventy talents, the remainder of the advances made by Cyrus. Corinth, no better received, made common cause with Thebes, and this formed another ground of complaint to Sparta against that state. The Argives, in a discussion relative to the fixing of boundaries, maintained their reasons to be superior to those of their adversaries. “He who is strongest with this argument,” said Lysander, drawing his sword, “reasons best about boundary limits.” A Megarian, in conference, spoke in a very loud voice. “My friend,” said Lysander, addressing him, “your words need a city to make them good.” Still more unceremoniously Sparta dealt with the Eleans, as we shall see later. To the imperious demands of the Spartan government were added individual acts of violence, which are often more odious because a single victim, even though obscure, excites more pity than a whole people bowed under defeat; and there is less peril in attacking public liberty which is the property of all, than in endangering, by contempt of truth and right, the honour or the life of an individual. A kind and hospitable man of Leuctra, Scedadus, received in his house one day two young Lacedæmonians, who were greatly struck with the beauty of their host’s two daughters. Returning from a voyage to Delphi, whither they had gone to consult the oracle, these two Lacedæmonians found the daughters alone in the house and violated them, after which they murdered them and threw their bodies into the well. When Scedadus returned next day his daughters did not, to his surprise, come forth to meet him, and his dog, howling plaintively, ran back and forth from his master to the well. Alarmed, Scedadus looked into the well, discovered the crime, and learned from his neighbours who were its perpetrators. He departed at once for Lacedæmon. In Argolis he fell in with a man as unfortunate as himself, whose son had fallen a victim to the brutality of a Spartan. This father had believed in Lacedæmonian justice, but had had none accorded him. Nevertheless Scedadus continued on his journey, and when he arrived in Sparta, told his story to the ephors, to the kings, to all the citizens he met, but no one would give it heed. Then wishing to call the divine anger down upon Sparta he invoked all the gods of heaven and earth, especially the furies of revenge, and put an end to his life. A tomb was later erected at Leuctra to his unfortunate daughters. As against the few facts of this nature that have come to our knowledge how many have escaped us? We realise this more fully when we reflect on the hatred Sparta everywhere inspired even in the Peloponnesus. The Arcadians and the Achæans served her from motives of fear alone; she was, they declared, a citadel placed upon their flank to keep guard over the whole peninsula. At Lacedæmon their sentiments were well known. On his return from an expedition in which a whole Spartan corps had been lost, in the Corinthian War which we shall treat of shortly, Agesilaus entered the towns only at night, leaving them at break of day, that his men might not witness the joy exhibited by the inhabitants at this disaster.[f] [Illustration: GREEK PHILOSOPHER (After Hope)] [Illustration] CHAPTER XLII. SPARTA IN ASIA When the Lacedæmonians put an end to the Athenian empire, they neither claimed any dominion on the continent of Asia, nor asserted the freedom of the Grecian republics there: the allegiance of the Asian Greeks was transferred from the Athenian people to the Persian king; and, under him, to the satraps, Pharnabazus and Tissaphernes. We have seen that, among the Greeks of Asia, Cyrus was popular, and Tissaphernes unpopular; insomuch that by a kind of rebellion against the satrap, the Ionians had attached themselves to the prince. The event therefore of the expedition against the king, and the appointment of Tissaphernes to the great command which Cyrus had held, could not but be highly alarming to them. But, on the other hand, the glorious retreat of the Greeks who had accompanied the prince, and the clear evidence which their return in safety bore to the superiority of the Grecian arms, afforded ground of encouragement. If the patronage of Lacedæmon could be obtained, whose councils commanded the united arms of Greece, little, it was hoped, need be apprehended from the satrap’s vengeance. Refusing therefore to acknowledge his authority, the Ionians sent ministers to Lacedæmon to solicit protection. The Lacedæmonian government, less expecting friendship from the king and from Tissaphernes on account of their connection with Cyrus, and valuing it less as the fame of the actions of the Cyrean army taught to despise their enmity, resolved that the Ionians should be protected. Possibly circumstances at home might contribute to this determination. It might be desirable to employ a part of their people on foreign service; and for service against an enemy so famed for wealth, and so little for bravery and military skill, volunteers would be numerous among the poor commonwealths of Peloponnesus. Four thousand men were required from the allies. Only one thousand were added from Lacedæmon: and they were all of those called neodamodes, who, owing their elevation from the condition of slaves into the rank of citizens to the necessities of war, were, on the return of peace, looked upon with so invidious an eye, that occasion for sending them on foreign service would be acceptable, both to the government and to themselves. Cavalry was very desirable for war in Asia: but the utmost force that Peloponnesus could raise was very small; and the principal citizens of the wealthiest republics, who alone composed it, would not be the most willing partakers in distant adventure. Application was therefore made to Athens; where recent disorders, extreme political jealousy, and a total want of protection against any momentary caprice of the people, made the situation of men of rank and fortune so precarious that the offer of pay for three hundred horse found ready acceptance there. Thimbron was appointed commander in chief in Asia, with the title of harmost. [Sidenote: [400-399 B.C.]] From their attachment to the cause of Cyrus, and consequent dread of the king’s vengeance, apparently arose the revolt of those Grecian subjects of the Persian empire, which otherwise would mark gross ingratitude to a beneficent government. For the testimony here given by Xenophon, remarkably corresponding with all remaining from Herodotus and Thucydides, strongly confirms what has been heretofore observed, that there was uncommon liberality in the despotism of the Persian empire. Public faith was kept; property was not without security; it was not then, as under the present wonderfully barbarian government of the same fine country, a crime to be rich. Large estates, given even to foreigners, passed to their late posterity; and, instead of the tyranny which now depopulates towns and provinces, and against which the remaining subjects recur to the patronage of some foreign ambassador, the Persian government so extended liberal protection to all, that Grecian cities could prefer the dominion of the Persian king to that of the Athenian or Lacedæmonian commonwealths, and flourish under it. But the Persian government, though generally mild and liberal, had been, since the reign of Xerxes, always weak, and verging to dissolution. The Lacedæmonian general Thimbron, who, with comparatively a small force, had been making conquests against it, showed no considerable abilities in the field, and in camp and in quarters his discipline was very deficient. The allies suffered from the licentiousness of his army; and complaints were in consequence so urged at Lacedæmon that, on the expiration of his year, he was sentenced to banishment. Dercyllidas, who succeeded him, was more equal to a great and difficult command. Having already served in Asia, under Lysander, he knew the characters of the two satraps, who divided between them, in almost independent sovereignty, the dominion of the western provinces. The instructions of the ephors directed him to lead the army into Caria, the hereditary government of Tissaphernes. But the desire of revenging a disgrace he had formerly incurred, when harmost of Abydos, in consequence of an accusation from Pharnabazus, assisted at least, according to the contemporary historian, his friend, in determining him to act otherwise. He negotiated with Tissaphernes; and that dastardly satrap, ill-disposed towards Pharnabazus, and always readier for negotiation than battle, instead of exerting the great power with which he was vested for the general defence of the empire, bargained for a particular peace for his own provinces, and consented that the Grecian arms should, without opposition from him, be carried into the Bithynian satrapy. Dercyllidas, having thus provided for the safety of the rich fields of Ionia, which would otherwise have been liable, in his absence, to suffer from the Persian cavalry, hastened his march northward; and, in the length of way from Caria to the borders of Æolis, he maintained an exactness of discipline that gained him the greater credit with the allies as it was contrasted with the licentiousness from which the country had suffered while Thimbron commanded. The circumstances of Æolis might reasonably have invited the attention of the general, though revenge had not instigated him. According to that liberal policy, more than once already noticed as ordinary among the Persians, Pharnabazus had appointed Zenis, a Greek of Dardanus, to be governor, or, according to Xenophon’s phrase, satrap of that fine country, so interesting, in earliest history, as the kingdom of Priam, and the seat of the Trojan War. Zenis died young, leaving a widow, Mania, also a Dardanian. This extraordinary woman solicited the succession to her late husband’s command; and supported her solicitations with presents so agreeable to the satrap’s fancy, and proofs so pregnant of her own talents and spirit, that she obtained her suit. Being accordingly vested with the government, she did not disappoint, but, on the contrary, far exceeded, the satrap’s expectation. She not only held all in due obedience, but, raising a body of Grecian mercenaries, she reduced the maritime towns of Larissa, Hamaxitus, and Colonæ, which had hitherto resisted the Persian dominion. Herself attended the sieges, viewing the operations from her chariot, and by praises and presents judiciously bestowed she excited such emulation that her army acquired repute superior to any other body of mercenaries in Asia. Pharnabazus requiring troops for suppressing the incursions of the rebellious Mysians and Pisidians, she attended in person. In consequence of her able conduct and high reputation, he always treated her with great respect, and sometimes even desired her assistance in his council. [Sidenote: [399 B.C.]] Mania was another Artemisia; and the weighty authority of Xenophon for the history of the Dardanian satrapess not a little supports the account given by Herodotus of the Halicarnassian queen. But, though Mania could govern provinces and conduct armies, yet, amid the encouragement which the gross defects, both of Grecian and Persian government, offered for daring villainy, she could not secure herself against domestic treachery. Scarcely had she passed her fortieth year when she was murdered in her palace by Midias, who had married her daughter. But a single murder would not answer the execrable villain’s purpose. Her son, a most promising youth of seventeen, was cut off. The assassin had then the impudence to ask of the satrap the succession to the government held by the deceased Mania, supporting his solicitation by large presents. But he seems to have founded his hopes on a knowledge rather of the general temper and practice of the Persian great than of the particular character of Pharnabazus. He, with a generous indignation, refused the presents, and declared he would not live unless he could revenge Mania. Midias prepared to support himself by force or intrigue, as circumstances might direct. He had secured Gergis and Scepsis, fortified towns in which Mania’s treasures were deposited; but the other towns of the province, with one consent, refusing to acknowledge his authority, adhered to Pharnabazus. Dercyllidas arrived upon the borders in this critical conjuncture. The satrap was unprepared; the Lacedæmonian name was popular; and the towns of Larissa, Hamaxitus, and Colonæ, in one day opened their gates. A declaration was then circulated, that the purpose of Dercyllidas and the Lacedæmonian government was to give perfect independency to the Æolian cities; desiring only alliance defensive and offensive, with quarters for the army within their walls whenever it might become requisite in that service whose object was the common liberty of all Grecian people. The garrisons were composed mostly of Greeks, attached to Mania, but indifferent to the interest of Pharnabazus. The towns of Neandria, Ilium, and Cocylium acceded to the Spartan general’s invitation. Hope of large reward for his fidelity induced the governor of Cebrene to adhere to the satrap; but, upon the approach of the army, the people soon compelled him to surrender. Dercyllidas then marched towards Scepsis. The assassin Midias, fearful, at the same time, of the Spartan general, the Persian satrap, and the Scepsian citizens, conceived his best hope to lie in accommodation with the former. He proposed a conference, to which Dercyllidas consented. Acquitting himself then of that miscreant by restoring all his private property, with liberal allowance for all his claims, he seized the wealth of Mania, as now belonging to the satrap, the common enemy; and it was his boast, a grateful boast to the army, that he had enriched the military chest with a twelvemonth’s pay for eight thousand men. [Sidenote: [399-398 B.C.]] Having thus, according to Xenophon’s expression, in eight days, taken nine cities, he sent proposals of truce to Pharnabazus. That generous satrap, unassisted from the capital of the empire, and deserted and betrayed by the great neighbouring officer whose more peculiar duty it was to afford him assistance, readily accepted them. Xenophon indeed says, that he was little disturbed with the loss of Æolis; esteeming that province, under Lacedæmonian protection, while he had himself peace with Lacedæmon, rather a useful barrier against other enemies. The meaning of this apparently is to be collected only from what follows. The Bithynians, though as tributary subjects of the empire he had assisted them against the Cyrean army, were always licentious, sometimes perhaps rebellious, and they frequently carried hostile depredation among the more peaceful and settled inhabitants of his satrapy. Among these people Dercyllidas resolved to take his winter quarters, as in a hostile territory, and Pharnabazus expressed no dissatisfaction. Since he had been in Asia, Dercyllidas had fought no great battle, nor taken any town by assault; but, in an army which, under his predecessor, had been so lawless as to be a terror more to friends than enemies, he had restored exact discipline, and yet was the favourite of that army. With that army then he had awed the two great satraps, each commanding a province equal to a powerful kingdom, and both together acting under the mightiest empire in the world; so that, after having given independency and security to the long line of Ionian and Æolian colonies, he could direct his views another way for the benefit of the Grecian name. The Thracian Chersonese, once the principality of the renowned Miltiades, lately, in large proportion, the property of another great and singular character, Alcibiades, and by its fertility, its many harbours, and its advantageous situation for trade, always a great object for industrious adventurers from Greece, was however always subject to dreadful incursions from the wild hordes of Thracians, who made it their glory to live by rapine. The Chersonesites, in a petition to Lacedæmon for protection, declared that, unless it were granted, they must abandon the country. Dercyllidas, informed of this, before orders could come to himself from Lacedæmon, or another could be sent with the commission, resolved to execute the service. He sent to Pharnabazus a proposal for prolonging the existing truce, which was immediately accepted; and, having so far provided tranquillity for Asia, he transported his army to the European shore. Immediately he visited the Thracian prince Seuthes, by whom he was very hospitably entertained; and having arranged, apparently to his satisfaction, those matters in which his commonwealth and that prince had a common concern, he marched to the Chersonese. There he employed his army, not in plunder and destruction, but in raising a rampart across the isthmus, to secure the peace of the rich country and industrious people within. Begun in spring, it was completed before autumn, and the army was reconveyed into Asia. Dercyllidas then made a progress through the Asiatic cities, to inspect the state of things, and had the satisfaction to find everywhere peace, prosperity, and general content. Now the ephors sent orders for war to be carried into Caria; for the army under Dercyllidas to march thither; and for the fleet, then commanded by Pharax, to co-operate with it. The first effect of these ill-concerted measures appears to have been to produce, or at least to hasten, a union between the two satraps, Tissaphernes and Pharnabazus; whose long variance had in no small degree contributed to those great successes which the Greeks, with a force otherwise inadequate to contention with the Persian empire, had been enabled to obtain. Pharnabazus, unsupported by the court of Susa, and basely deserted, or worse than deserted, by Tissaphernes, his immediate superior in command, had acquiesced under the loss of Æolis. But, as soon as the threatened attack of Caria afforded a probability that Tissaphernes would be disposed to change his conduct, Pharnabazus went to him, and declared his readiness to co-operate zealously in measures for driving the Greeks out of Asia. This proposal, to which the jealousy and pusillanimity of Tissaphernes otherwise would scarcely have listened, was made acceptable by the indiscreet violence of the Spartan government. The two satraps went together into Caria, and, having arranged matters for the defence of that country, returned to take the command of an army which threatened Ionia with destruction. [Sidenote: [398-397 B.C.]] Dercyllidas was already marching for Caria, when information reached him that all his hitherto successful labours for the welfare of the colonies were upon the point of being rendered utterly vain. In these alarming circumstances the interested pusillanimity of Tissaphernes relieved him. Pharnabazus was desirous of engaging; but Tissaphernes already more than half satisfied, since his property in Caria was no longer in immediate danger, would first try the effect of a conference. A herald was therefore sent to the Grecian general. The conference being held accordingly, Dercyllidas insisted on the simple proposition, “that all Grecian cities should be independent.” To this the satraps consented, with the conditions, “that the Grecian army should quit the king’s territory” (by which seems to have been meant Asia, including the Grecian colonies), “and that the Lacedæmonian governors should quit the Grecian towns.” Upon these terms a truce was concluded, to hold till the pleasure of the king and of the Lacedæmonian government could be known. This was the first treaty, reported on any authentic or even probable testimony, by which, since the early times of the Lydian monarchy, it was provided that the Asian Greeks should be completely emancipated from foreign dominion. All the Ionian and Æolian cities, it appears, thus gained immediate enjoyment of independency in peace: the Carian seem to have waited the confirmation of the treaty by the king of Persia and the Lacedæmonian government. But it was a quiet revolution: no great battle gave it splendour; none of those striking events attended which invite the attention of the writer in proportion as they are fitted to impress the fancy of the reader. It forms, nevertheless, a memorable and interesting era in Grecian history; and the fame of Dercyllidas, less brilliant, but far purer, than that of most of the great men of Greece, though, being recorded by the pen of Xenophon, it is indeed secured against perishing, yet deserves to have been more generally and more pointedly noticed, than we find it, by writers whose theme has been Grecian history, or panegyric of the Grecian character. WAR OF LACEDÆMON AND ELIS [Sidenote: [420-399 B.C.]] In that system, if it may be so called, by which the various members of the Greek nation were in some degree held together, we find a strange mixture of undefined, and sometimes repugnant claims, more or less generally admitted. While the Lacedæmonians presided, with authority far too little defined, over the political and military affairs of Greece, the Eleans asserted a prescriptive right to a kind of religious supremacy; also too little defined; universally allowed nevertheless, in a certain degree, but, like the Lacedæmonian supremacy, not always to the extent to which the claimants pretended. In the schism of Peloponnesus, which occurred during the Peloponnesian War, we have seen the imperial state of Lacedæmon summoned to the Elean tribunal, as a British corporation might be summoned to the courts at Westminster; a fine imposed, its citizens interdicted the common games and sacrifices of the nation, an opprobrious punishment publicly inflicted upon an aged and respectable Spartan, who, but by implication, offended against the Elean decrees; and, finally, these measures supported by avowed hostilities, and alliance with the enemies of Sparta. The necessity of the times induced the Lacedæmonians to make peace with these affronts unrevenged; but their smothered resentment had been revived and increased by what they esteemed a new indignity. Before the conclusion of the Peloponnesian War, Agis, king of Lacedæmon, had been sent, in pursuance of a supposed prophetical direction, to perform a sacrifice to Jupiter at Olympia. The Eleans forbade the ceremony, alleging that, according to ancient law, no oracle should be consulted for success in wars between Greeks and Greeks, and they would allow no prayer for victory in such a war. There is a beneficence, a liberal and extended patriotism in this idea, so consonant to the spirit with which Iphitus is said to have founded the Olympian festival, and so opposite to the tenets afterwards generally prevailing in Greece, that they seem to mark the law for ancient and genuine. The Lacedæmonians however were not the less offended with the Eleans for bringing forward, upon such an occasion, what, if those maxims only were considered which had prevailed through succeeding ages, would carry much the appearance of a complete novelty. [Illustration: GREEK VASE] The judgment passed against the Lacedæmonians and the fine imposed, the interdiction of the games, the punishment of Lichas, the confederacy with Athens and Argos, the hostilities ensuing, and finally the refusal of permission for sacrifice at Olympia, are stated by the contemporary historian as the motives which disposed the Lacedæmonians to war. We gather from him however that others existed; the democratical party at this time governed Elis, and Elis held many towns of Elea in subjection. The Lacedæmonians did not absolutely require oligarchy in every state of Greece; for they had lately permitted the restoration of democracy in Athens; and even their own government had a mixture of democracy: but they always beheld, with peculiar jealousy, dominion exercised by a democratical commonwealth. [Sidenote: [399 B.C.]] In pursuance of this resolution, ministers were sent to Elis with a declaration that “the Lacedæmonians deemed it just and proper that the towns held in subjection by the Eleans be restored to independency.” The Eleans, alleging the right of conquest, refused to resign their sovereignty; and upon this the ephors ordered the king, Agis, to march into their country. The usual ravage of Grecian armies presently followed, but an earthquake, imagined a divine admonition, alarming the aged prince and his superstitious people, they retired out of Elea,[7] and the troops were dismissed to their several homes. Whether as marking the favour of the gods or the weakness of their enemies, this conduct greatly encouraged the Eleans. In either view it improved the hope of gaining to their cause many Grecian states, known to be disaffected towards Lacedæmon. But if the Lacedæmonian sovereignty was tyrannical, theirs apparently was not less so; and while they were cherishing the hope of foreign assistance, they did not take wiser precautions than other Grecian states for securing the attachment of their subjects. In the next spring Agis again entered Elea with an army to which all the allies had contributed, excepting Corinth and Bœotia. Immediately Lepreum revolted to him; Macistus and Epitalium quickly followed the example; and these were imitated, as he advanced into the country, by Leprine, Amphidolia, and Marganeæ. In this defection of their towns, the Eleans were utterly unable to face the Lacedæmonian army in the field. Agis proceeded unopposed to Olympia and sacrificed, now unforbidden, on the altar of Jupiter. The territories of the revolting towns of course had been spared; but rapine and devastation marked the way from Olympia to Elis, whither the king next directed his march. Nor did the country suffer only from the conquering army. The opportunity of freebooting invited the neighbouring Arcadians and Achæans; and slaves and cattle and corn were carried off to such an amount that all the markets of Peloponnesus were glutted with Elean plunder. It was supposed that Agis would not, rather than that he could not, take Elis itself, which was unfortified. After destroying many fair buildings of the outskirts he proceeded to Cyllene, the principal seaport of the Eleans, and ravage was extended from the mountains to the sea. Occasion has already frequently occurred to remark, that scarcely any misfortune could befall a Grecian state which would not bring advantage, or at least the hope of advantage, to some considerable portion of its subjects. The aristocratical party in Elis, oppressed by the demagogue Thrasydæus, looked to the present sufferings of their country as the means of relief; but with no better consideration of any political or moral principle than might have guided the wildest savages, or the most profligate among the lowest populace in civilised nations. They proposed to assassinate Thrasydæus, with a few of his confidential friends; and then, in the name of the commonwealth, to open a negotiation with Lacedæmon. The people, they trusted, deprived of their leader, and dreading the arms of the Lacedæmonians, would acquiesce; and thus the principal power in the state would of course come into their hands. The plot failed through a mistake, by which another was murdered for Thrasydæus. The people, however, supposing their favourite killed, rested in silent dejection: but, while the conspirators were arming, and stationing their party, the demagogue awoke, where drunkenness and supervening sleep had overnight checked his way. The people immediately flocked about him; a battle followed, and the conspirators, overpowered, fled to the Lacedæmonian camp. [Sidenote: [398 B.C.]] The conduct of the war was such as we have so often seen in Greece. When plunder no longer remained to employ the Lacedæmonian army profitably, Agis marched home, leaving only a garrison in Epitalium on the Alpheus, where he established the Elean fugitives. Hence rapine was occasionally prosecuted through the autumn and winter. Elis could not, like Athens, support itself under the continual ravage of its territory. In spring therefore Thrasydæus opened a negotiation with Lacedæmon, and at once offered the independency of all the towns over which the Eleans claimed sovereignty by right of conquest; proposing only to keep Epium, whose territory they had purchased from the inhabitants for thirty talents fairly paid. The Lacedæmonians however, considering, or affecting to consider, the purchase as forced, required that Epium should be free like the rest. The disposition thus apparent in the Lacedæmonians to depress Elis encouraged the villagers of the Pisan territory to assert their claim to the superintendency of the Olympian temple, violently taken from their ancestors, as they contended, by the Eleans, when their city was destroyed. But, whatever might have been the ancient right, the Lacedæmonian administration, thinking those uneducated pretenders unfit for an office of much solemnity and dignity in the eyes of all Greece, would not interfere. Upon the condition therefore that every town of Elea should be, as a free republic, a separate member of the Lacedæmonian confederacy, which was, in effect, to be subjects of Lacedæmon, peace was made; and Elis, according to the Lacedæmonian decree preceding the war, humbled and chastened, was itself also restored to its place in that confederacy. [Illustration: THE SHORES OF ELIS] The imputation of impiety, under which the Lacedæmonians began the war, perhaps urged them to a more ostentatious display of respect for the gods at the end of it. Agis himself was deputed to offer, at Delphi, the tenth of the spoil. On his return, he was taken ill at Heræa, and he died soon after his arrival at Lacedæmon. In the magnificence of his funeral the Lacedæmonians probably meant also to exhibit their own piety, as well as to testify their opinion of the deceased prince’s merit. They failed however in their estimate of the prevailing prejudices of the Grecian people. Honour to the gods indeed was supposed to be best shown, and religion principally to consist, in pompous processions and expensive spectacles; but general opinion condemned the splendour of the funeral of Agis, as greater than could become the most illustrious mortal.[b] When the days for the funeral solemnities were past and it was necessary for another king to be appointed, Leotychides, who said that he was the son of Agis, and Agesilaus his brother, stood forward as competitors for the throne. Leotychides saying, “The law, Agesilaus, directs, not that the brother, but that the son of the king is to reign; though if there happen to be no son, the brother may in that case become king.” Agesilaus rejoined, “Then I must be king.” “How,” said Leotychides, “when I am alive?” “Because,” returned Agesilaus, “he whom you call your father, said that you were not his son.”[8] “But my mother, who knows much better than he, still declares that I am.” “Neptune, however,” said Agesilaus, “showed that what you assert is false, as he drove your father abroad by an earthquake from her chamber; and time, which is said to be the truest of witnesses, gives testimony with him to the same effect; for you were born in the tenth month after he fled from her, and was never after seen in her chamber.” In this manner they disputed. But Diopithes, a man who paid great attention to oracles, supported Leotychides, and said that there was an oracle of Apollo enjoining them “to beware of a halting reign.” Lysander however said in reply to him, on behalf of Agesilaus, that “he did not think the god desired them to beware lest their king should stumble and halt, but rather lest one who was not of the royal family should reign; for that the royal power would assuredly be lame whenever men not descended from Hercules should rule the state.” The people, after hearing such arguments from both sides, chose Agesilaus for their king. CINADON’S PLOT [Sidenote: [398-397 B.C.]] Agesilaus had not yet been a year on the throne, when, as he was offering one of the sacrifices appointed for the city, the augur told him that the gods indicated some conspiracy of the most dangerous kind. Within five days after the conclusion of this sacrifice, somebody gave information to the ephors of a conspiracy, and said that “Cinadon was leader in the affair.” Cinadon was a man of vigorous frame, and of powerful mind, but not one of the Equals. When the ephors asked the informer what account he could give of the way in which the plot would be carried into effect, he said that “Cinadon, having conducted him to the outside of the forum, desired him to count how many Spartans there were in the forum; and I,” continued he, “having counted the king, the ephors, the senators, and about forty others, asked him, ‘And why, Cinadon, have you told me to count them?’ ‘Consider these,’ he replied, ‘as enemies, and all the rest now in the forum, who are more than four thousand, as allies.’” He said also that Cinadon pointed out to him in the streets sometimes one, and sometimes two, that were enemies, and said that all the other people were auxiliaries, and that whatever Spartans were on their estates in the country, one, namely the master, was an enemy, while on every estate there were numbers of allies. The ephors then inquiring how many Cinadon said were privy to the plot, he replied that he told him, as to that point, that “there were not very many in concert with the principal agents, but that they were trustworthy, and declared that they were in communication with all the helots, the newly-enfranchised, the inferior citizens, and the people in the parts about the city; for whenever any mention of the Spartans was made among them, no one could forbear from showing that he would willingly eat them up alive.” When the ephors further asked “whence they said they would get arms,” he answered, that Cinadon had stated to him, “Those of us who are already united, say we have arms enough;” and for the multitude, he said that Cinadon, conducting him into the iron-market, had pointed out numbers of daggers, swords, spits, axes, hatchets, and scythes, and added that “all the instruments with which men cultivate the ground, or hew wood or stone, would serve as weapons, while the greater part of the artificers had sufficient tools to fight with, especially against unarmed enemies.” The informer being finally interrogated “at what time the scheme was to be carried into execution,” replied that “directions had been given him to be in readiness at home.” The ephors, after listening to his statement, were of opinion that he had given information of a well-concerted plot, and were greatly alarmed; nor did they summon even what was called the lesser assembly, but some of the senators, conferring together here and there, resolved to send Cinadon to Aulon, accompanied by some others of the younger men, with directions to bring back with him certain inhabitants of that place, and some helots, whose names were written on his scytale. They desired him also to bring with him a certain woman, who was said to be the handsomest in the place, and was thought to corrupt all the Lacedæmonians, old as well as young, that went thither. Cinadon had executed similar commissions for the ephors before; and they now delivered to him the scytale on which were written the names of the persons that were to be apprehended. As he asked “which of the young men he should take with him,” they said to him, “Go, and desire the eldest of the _hippagretæ_ to send with you six or seven of such of his men as may be at hand.” They had previously taken care that the _hippagretæ_ should know whom he was to send, and that those who were sent should be apprized that they were to secure Cinadon. They moreover acquainted Cinadon that they would send three carriages, that they might not bring away their prisoners on foot, concealing from him as carefully as possible that they sent them with a view to his security alone. They did not apprehend him in the city, because they were uncertain how far the plot might have spread, and wished first to hear from Cinadon himself who were his accomplices in it, before they themselves should be aware that information was given against them, lest they should make their escape. The party who took him were to keep him prisoner, and when they had learned from him the names of his accomplices, were to send them in writing to the ephors as speedily as possible. So intent indeed were the ephors on effecting their object, that they even despatched a troop of horse to support the party that was gone to Aulon. As soon as Cinadon was secured, and a horseman arrived with the names of those whom he had put on his list, they instantly apprehended Tisamenus the soothsayer, and the other principal conspirators; and when Cinadon was brought back and examined, and had made a full confession and specified his accomplices, they at last asked him “with what object he had engaged in such a scheme.” He replied, “in order that he might be inferior to no man in Lacedæmon.” Soon after he was fastened, arms and neck, in a wooden collar, and scourged and pricked with lances; and in this condition he and his accomplices were led round the city. Thus they suffered the penalty of the law.[c] AGESILAUS IN ASIA [Sidenote: [396 B.C.]] Not long after this event news was brought to Sparta by a Syracusan named Herodes, who had just returned from Phœnicia, of preparations which he had witnessed in the Phœnician ports for a great armament, which he had learned was to consist of three hundred galleys. He had not been able to ascertain its object, but it had induced him to quicken his departure, that he might bear the tidings to Greece. The Spartan government was alarmed, and called a congress of the allies to deliberate on preventive measures. But to Lysander the intelligence afforded a highly welcome opportunity of resuming his ambitious plans, and recovering his influence among the Asiatic Greeks. He seems however to have been aware that he was himself viewed with jealousy at home, and that a proposal coming directly from himself, and immediately tending to his own aggrandisement, would probably be ill received. He resolved therefore to make use of his friend Agesilaus, to accomplish his purpose, and easily prevailed on him to undertake, with a small force, to give such employment to the Persian arms in Asia, as would secure Greece from the threatened invasion. Agesilaus, who was in the prime of life, was no less eager to display his military talents in such a brilliant field, than Lysander to renew his intrigues, and to replace his creatures in the posts from which they had been dislodged. He therefore offered to take the command of an expedition to Asia, for which he required no more than two thousand neodamode troops, and six thousand of the allies, and desired to be accompanied by a council of thirty Spartans--which he probably knew would, according to usage, be forced upon him--and by Lysander among them. His offer was accepted, and all his requests granted, with the addition of six months’ pay for the army. Corinth, Thebes, and Athens, were called upon to contribute their forces, but they all refused. It was the first time since the expedition of Menelaus that a king of Sparta had undertaken to invade Asia; and Agesilaus, partly perhaps for the sake of the omen, and partly for the sake of his own renown, was willing to associate his enterprise with the recollection of that heroic adventure. He therefore stopped at Aulis, to sacrifice there after the example of Agamemnon. But before he had completed the rite, the Bœotarchs sent a party of horse to enjoin him to desist, and the men did not merely deliver the message, but scattered the parts of the victim which they found on the altar. He however stifled his resentment, and embarked again for Geræstus, where he found the bulk of his armament assembled, and sailed with it to Ephesus. Soon after his arrival he received a message from Tissaphernes, calling on him to explain the design of his coming. Agesilaus replied, that his object was to restore the Asiatic Greeks to the independence which their brethren enjoyed on the other side of the Ægean. The satrap on this proposed a truce until the king’s pleasure could be taken on this demand; he engaged himself to support it with all the credit he possessed, and professed to believe that the court would comply with it. Agesilaus consented to the proposal, only requiring security for the observance of the engagement, and even this security was no more than the oath of Tissaphernes, which he pledged with due solemnity to Dercyllidas, and two other Spartan commissioners, who were sent to ratify the convention. Nothing however was farther from the mind of either party than the thought of peace. Tissaphernes, as soon as he had taken the oath, sent to the king for a reinforcement to enable him to take the field; and Agesilaus, who was well aware of his intentions, and probably would not otherwise have granted the truce, though he observed it with strict fidelity, undoubtedly did not suffer the time to be lost with regard to the progress of his own preparations. During this interval a breach, which the characters and views of the two men rendered almost inevitable, rose between him and Lysander. The rumour of the expedition, and of the part which Lysander was to take in it, seems to have rekindled the flames of discord in the Asiatic cities, which after the expulsion of his creatures had for a time been kept tranquil by the wise forbearance of the ephors and the prudent administration of Dercyllidas. When he came to Ephesus, his door was immediately besieged by a crowd of petitioners, who desired a license to oppress their countrymen under his patronage. After the victory of Ægospotami, Lysander, as the man who for the time wielded the irresistible power of Sparta, had been courted with extravagant servility by the Asiatic Greeks. They did not content themselves with the ordinary honours of golden crowns and statues, but raised altars and offered sacrifices, and sang pæans, and consecrated festivals to him as a god: the first example of that grossest kind of adulation, which afterwards became common among the Greeks, and was reduced to a system by the Romans. When he now appeared again in Asia, though in the train of a Spartan king, it was still supposed that the substance of power resided with him, and that he would direct the exercise of the royal authority, as he thought fit. He did not discountenance this persuasion, for he shared it himself. He had calculated on the subserviency of Agesilaus, whom he considered as mainly indebted to his friendship, first for the throne, and then--an obligation little inferior--for the command in Asia. But his colleagues, the rest of the Thirty, felt that the homage paid to him by the allies was derogatory, not only to the royal dignity, but to their own; and they complained to Agesilaus of his presumption. [Illustration: PROWS OF GREEK GALLEYS] The king himself had been hurt by it, and resolved to check it, not by a friendly remonstrance, but in a way the most grating to Lysander’s feelings. He rejected all applications which were made to him in reliance on Lysander’s interest; and his purpose at length became so evident, that Lysander was obliged to inform his clients, that his intercession, instead of furthering, would only obstruct their suits. He had however sufficient self-command to stifle or disguise his resentment; and, after a very mild expostulation with Agesilaus on the harshness of his conduct, requested to be removed from the scene of his humiliation to some other place, where he might still be employed in the public service. The king very willingly complied, and sent him to the Hellespont, where not long after he achieved an acquisition of some moment to the Spartan arms. He prevailed on a Persian of high rank, named Spithridates, who had been offended by Pharnabazus, to revolt, and come with his family, his treasures, and two hundred horse, to Cyzicus, and thence sailed with him and his son to Ephesus, and presented them to Agesilaus, who received them with great pleasure, and took this opportunity of gaining information about the state of Pharnabazus. This incident produced an apparent reconciliation between him and Lysander; but we shall see reason to suspect that on one side, at least, it was not sincere. Tissaphernes had no sooner received such an addition to his forces, as appeared to him sufficient to overpower Agesilaus, than he threw aside the mask, and sent a message to the Spartan king, bidding him immediately quit Asia, or prepare for war. The council and the allies were somewhat daunted by his arrogant tone, and apparent strength; but Agesilaus, who had expected this result, and desired no other, told the envoys to carry back his thanks to their master, for the advantage he had given the Greeks by his perjury. He then ordered his troops to put themselves in readiness for a long march; sent word to the towns which lay on the road to Caria to lay in provisions for the use of his army; and called on the cities of Ionia, Æolis, and the Hellespont, for their contingents. Agesilaus had reckoned upon this effect of the satrap’s selfish fears, and, instead of seeking him in Caria, marched in the opposite direction toward the residence of Pharnabazus. As this invasion was quite unexpected, he found the towns on his road unprepared for resistance, and collected an immense booty. He penetrated nearly to Dascylium without encountering an enemy. But in that neighbourhood he fell in with a body of Persian horse, and, by the issue of a skirmish which ensued, was made to feel its superiority in equipments and training over his own. The next day when he sacrificed, observes Xenophon--as if he was relating a providential warning, not a human contrivance--the victims were found imperfect; and Agesilaus advanced no farther, but retreated towards Ephesus. [Sidenote: [396-395 B.C.]] There he spent the winter in preparations for the next campaign, and more particularly applied himself to the raising of a body of cavalry, which he perceived would be indispensable to the success and the safety of his future operations. For this purpose he made a list of the most opulent men in the Greek cities, and compelled each of them, as the condition of his exemption from personal service, to furnish a trooper. In the spring he collected his forces at Ephesus, and put them into an active course of training, rousing their emulation by the prizes which he proposed for the most gallant show, and the highest degree of expertness, in every department of the service. Xenophon, as an old soldier, is delighted with the recollection of the military bustle which prevailed during this season at Ephesus; where the wrestling schools and the hippodrome were constantly enlivened by the exercises of the men, the market was abundantly supplied with horses, and arms of every kind, and all the trades subservient to war were kept in full employment. Among other devices for raising the spirits of his troops, Agesilaus borrowed a hint, it would seem, from one of Cimon’s stratagems, and ordered his Persian prisoners to be exposed to sale naked, that the Greeks might contrast the delicacy of their persons with the robustness of frames hardened by the exercises of the palæstra. Before he took the field again, a year having now elapsed from the commencement of his expedition, Lysander and his colleagues were superseded by a new body of councillors, and returned home. Agesilaus then gave public notice, that he meant to take the shortest road into the richest part of the enemy’s country. The notice was designed not more for the preparation of his own troops, than for Tissaphernes, who concluded that if this had been the intention of Agesilaus, he would not have disclosed it, and that now Caria was certainly his real mark. He therefore repeated the dispositions of the preceding summer. But while he waited for the enemy with his cavalry in the vale of the Mæander, Agesilaus directed his march towards the plains of Sardis, the richest of Western Asia. During three days he traversed them without seeing an enemy; but on the fourth the Persian cavalry, which Tissaphernes seems to have sent forward as soon as he heard of the movements of Agesilaus, suddenly came up, and cut off many of the followers of the camp, as they were ranging over the country in quest of plunder. Tissaphernes had already arrived at Sardis; and his countrymen, many of whom had probably suffered considerable loss from the invasion, bitterly censured him for leaving them unprotected, and even it seems charged him with treachery. The complaints were carried up to the court, where he had one implacable and powerful enemy in the fiendish Parysatis, who thirsted to revenge herself on him for his enmity to her favourite son. She had already found that Artaxerxes was weak enough to sacrifice his most faithful servants to her resentment, even when he knew that it was inflamed by the very services which they had rendered to himself; and according to the most probable account, it was in compliance with her request that he now ordered Tissaphernes to be put to death. The execution of the sentence was committed to Tithraustes, who was appointed to succeed Tissaphernes in his satrapy, and was instructed to open a negotiation with Agesilaus. Accordingly, after executing the first part of his commission, which he did in the Turkish style by the hands of an underling, who surprised Tissaphernes in his bath, Tithraustes sent envoys to treat with the Spartan king. He affected to consider Tissaphernes as the author of the quarrel between his master and the Greeks, and, as if the end of their expedition was now answered by their enemy’s death, proposed that Agesilaus should return home. As to the Asiatic Greeks, Artaxerxes was willing to acknowledge their independence, on condition that they would pay their ancient tribute. Agesilaus replied, that he had no authority to conclude peace without the sanction of the government at home: but he would transmit the Persian overtures to Sparta. In the meanwhile Tithraustes was very anxious that hostilities should be suspended in his province, and, pleading his own merits in the execution of Tissaphernes, begged Agesilaus, while he waited for an answer to the terms proposed, to turn his arms against the satrapy of Pharnabazus. To this Agesilaus consented on condition that Tithraustes would defray the expense of the march; and he received thirty talents [£6000 or $30,000] on that score. This was a step beyond former precedents: for even Tissaphernes, though he had not scrupled to conclude a separate truce, had not paid the enemy a subsidy for invading another part of his master’s dominions. [Sidenote: [395 B.C.]] On his march towards the territories of Pharnabazus, Agesilaus received a flattering testimony of the approbation with which his proceedings were viewed at Sparta, and of the disposition which prevailed there to support him in the prosecution of the war. By a despatch which reached him as he lay near Cyme, he learned that he had been invested with the administration of naval affairs, that he was empowered to appoint whom he would to the office of admiral, and still to regulate the operations of the fleet at his discretion. Thus to unite the supreme command of the army and of the navy in one person, was an unexampled mark of confidence, and a striking indication of the new energy which ambition had infused into the Spartan counsels. Agesilaus immediately took measures for raising a fleet; and by a judicious distribution of the burden among the maritime allies, and his influence with wealthy individuals, collected 120 new galleys. But he was less prudent and fortunate in the choice of an admiral, and instead of seeking the highest qualifications, consulted his private affection in the appointment of his wife’s brother Pisander. When this business was despatched, he continued his march to the satrapy of Pharnabazus. PERSIAN GOLD These preparations, combined perhaps with other tokens, convinced Tithraustes that Agesilaus had no intention of withdrawing from Asia, but was inclined rather to extend than contract his views, and cherished strong hopes of effecting the conquest of the empire. He perceived that he had only purchased a temporary relief, and bethought himself how he might employ the gold, which was his last remaining stay, to greater advantage. The history of the contest between Greece and Persia afforded several instructive lessons, which were now peculiarly applicable. At the time when the first Artaxerxes was embarrassed by the success of the Athenians in Egypt, he sent an agent, as we have seen, with bribes to Sparta, to procure a diversion in his favour. Tithraustes now resorted to a similar expedient. He sent a Rhodian named Timocrates to Greece, with a sum of fifty talents, which he was charged to distribute, with proper precautions, among the leading persons in the states which might be most easily induced to interrupt the progress of Agesilaus by kindling a war against Sparta at home. Not only was this mission itself a notorious and unquestionable fact; but Xenophon professes an equal degree of certainty as to the names of the persons who received the money. We may at least venture to believe that, though it may have roused them to greater activity, it produced no change in their political sentiments: and we even doubt whether it gave rise to any events which would not have occurred nearly as soon without it. It was indeed natural enough for Agesilaus and his friends to attribute the disappointment of his hopes to the venality of their adversaries. But Xenophon himself observes that the Athenians, though they did not receive any share of the gold, were eager for war in the hope of recovering their independence. And it is clear from his own narrative that similar feelings of jealousy or resentment towards Sparta already prevailed at Thebes, Corinth, and Argos, and were only waiting for an opportunity of displaying themselves in open hostility, but needed no corrupt influence to excite them. The anti-Laconian party at Thebes--the same no doubt which had sheltered the Athenian exiles, and had contrived the affront offered to Agesilaus at Aulis, and which had therefore reason to dread his resentment if he should ever return to Europe as the conqueror of Asia--set the first springs of hostility in motion. The disposition to war they found already existing; a pretext only was wanting, and this they easily devised. Means were found to induce the Locrians of Opus to make an inroad upon a tract of land which had been long the subject of contention between them and their neighbours the Phocians. The Phocians retaliated by the invasion of the Opuntian Locris, and the Thebans were soon persuaded to take part with the Locrians, and invade Phocis. The Phocians, as was foreseen, applied for succour to Sparta, where, as Xenophon admits, there was the utmost readiness to lay hold on any pretence for a war with Thebes; and the present season of prosperity seemed to the Spartan government the most favourable for humbling a power which had given so many proofs of ill-will towards it. WAR RISES IN GREECE War therefore was decreed, and Lysander was sent into Phocis with instructions to collect all the forces he could raise there, and among the tribes seated about Mount Œta, and to march with them to Haliartus in Bœotia, where Pausanias, with the Peloponnesian troops, was to join him on an appointed day. Lysander discharged his commission with his usual activity, and besides succeeded in inducing Orchomenos, which was subject to Thebes, to assert its independence. Pausanias, having crossed the Laconian border, waited at Tegea for the contingents which he had demanded from the allies. They seem to have come in slowly, and Corinth refused to take any part in the expedition. The Thebans, seeing themselves threatened with invasion, sent an embassy to prevail on the Athenians to make common cause with them against Sparta. There were many feelings to be overcome at Athens, before this resolution could be adopted: recollections of a long hereditary grudge, of the animosity displayed by Thebes during the last war, and especially at its close; the sense of weakness, and the dread of provoking a power, by which Athens had so lately been brought to the brink of destruction. The Athenians desired to recover their pre-eminence in Greece, and their readiest way to that end was to declare themselves the protectors of all who suffered under Spartan tyranny. If they were inclined to dread the enemy’s power, they had only to reflect by what means their own had been overthrown. Sparta likewise now ruled over unwilling subjects, and offended allies, who only wanted a leader to encourage them to revolt from her. Indeed she had not one sincere friend left. Argos had always been hostile; Elis had just been deeply wronged. Corinth, Arcadia, and Achaia saw the services which they had rendered in the war requited with insolent ingratitude, and were subject to the control of harmosts, who were not even citizens of Sparta, but helots; bondmen at home, masters abroad. The cities once subject to Athens, which had been tempted to revolt by the prospect of liberty, found themselves cheated of their hopes, and groaned under the double yoke of a foreign governor, and a domestic oligarchy. The Persian king, to whom Sparta mainly owed her victory, she had immediately afterwards treated as an enemy. Athens might now place herself at the head of a confederacy much more powerful than the empire which she had lost; and the Spartan dominion would be more easily overthrown than the Athenian had been, in proportion as the allies of Sparta were stronger than the subjects of Athens. [Illustration: GREEK TERRA-COTTA LAMP] These arguments found a willing audience; they were seconded by many voices, and the assembly was unanimous in favour of the alliance with Thebes. Thrasybulus, who moved the decree, reminded the Thebans that Athens was about to repay the obligation which they had laid on her when they refused to concur in riveting her chains, by active exertions, and at a great risk. For she would have to face the enmity of Sparta while Piræus remained still unfortified. Both states prepared for war. Lysander, having collected all the forces he could raise in the north, marched to Haliartus; but he found that Pausanias had not yet arrived there. It was not in his character to remain anywhere inactive, and he was desirous of making himself master of the town. He first tried negotiation to engage it to revolt. But there were some Theban and Athenian troops in the place, whose presence overawed the disaffected; and he then resolved to venture on an assault. A battle took place close to the walls, in which Lysander was slain. It seems clear from a comparison of all accounts, that he was intercepted between the main body of the Thebans and the garrison, which made a sally; and he was known to have fallen by the hand of a citizen of Haliartus. His troops were put to flight, and betook themselves to the hills--a branch of the range of Helicon--which rose at no great distance behind the town. The conquerors pursued with great vigour, and incautiously pressed forward up the rising ground, until the difficulties of the ground brought them to a stand, and the fugitives, perceiving their perplexity, turned upon them, assailed them with a shower of missiles, rolled down masses of rock on their heads, and finally drove them in disorder, with the loss of more than two hundred men, into the plain. The dejection caused by this disaster was relieved the next day by the discovery that the remains of Lysander’s army had dispersed during the night. But the exultation of the Thebans at this fruit of their victory was damped in the course of a few hours by the appearance of Pausanias, who had received the news of the battle on the road from Platæa to Thespiæ, and had hastened his march to Haliartus. Yet, according to Diodorus, he brought with him no more than six thousand men; but so small a force could scarcely have produced the alarm described by Xenophon, who, with a slight touch of humour, exhibits the Theban camp as fluctuating between the extremes of presumption and despondency. For the next day their spirits were again raised by the arrival of Thrasybulus and an Athenian army; and their confidence was heightened when they perceived that Pausanias showed no disposition to seek an engagement. His situation was extremely embarrassing. According to Greek usage it was absolutely necessary for him to recover the bodies of the slain, who are said to have amounted to a thousand, either by force or by consent of the victors. The greater part lay so near to the town walls that the attempt to carry them away by force would be one of great difficulty and danger, even if he should gain a victory; and the enemy was so strong in cavalry, that the event of a battle would be very uncertain, especially as his own troops had engaged in the expedition with reluctance. He therefore held a council of war; and after mature deliberation the majority came to the decision--if indeed it was not unanimous--to apply for permission to carry away the dead. The Thebans however were not satisfied with this confession of their superiority, and refused to grant a truce, except on condition that the invaders should withdraw from Bœotia. These terms were gladly accepted by Pausanias and his council, though they were felt by the troops as a degradation, such as a Lacedæmonian army had never before experienced. The general dejection and ill-humour which prevailed in the retreat, were heightened by the insulting demeanour of the Thebans, who accompanied them on their march through Bœotia, and drove back all who deviated in the least from the line, with blows, into the road. The conduct of Pausanias appears to have been in the whole of this affair perfectly blameless. He had failed indeed to reach Haliartus by the preconcerted day, but he arrived the day after; and when it is considered that he had to collect his army from many quarters, and that the allies were generally averse to the expedition, he may seem rather to have deserved praise, for bringing it up so nearly within the appointed time. The disastrous issue could only be attributed to Lysander’s imprudence; and the decision of the council of war with regard to the recovery of the slain, even if it was not clearly required by the circumstances of the case, could not reasonably be imputed as a crime to Pausanias. Yet on his return to Sparta he was capitally impeached; and the nature of the charges brought against him showed that he could not expect a fair trial, but was foredoomed to be sacrificed to public prejudice or to private passion; for the accusation embraced not merely his conduct in his last expedition, but the indulgence which he had granted to the Athenian refugees in Piræus; though his measures on that occasion seem to have been viewed with general approbation at the time, and had only been proved to be impolitic by the event. But under the irritation produced by the recent shame and disappointment, the Spartan senate was no more capable of listening to reason and justice, than the Athenian assembly on some similar occasions; and it is probable that Lysander’s friends did the utmost to inflame the public feelings against his old adversary. Pausanias did not appear at the trial; he was condemned to death, and was obliged to seek shelter in the venerated sanctuary of Athene Alea at Tegea, where he ended his days. His son Agesipolis succeeded to the throne. Lysander left his family in a state of poverty, which proved that his ambition was quite pure from all sordid ingredients. But, if we may believe a story which became current after his death, and is related upon such authority, that we can scarcely suppose it to have been without foundation, he was not satisfied either with fame, or with the substance of power. He is said to have conceived the project of levelling the privileges of the two royal houses, and of making the kingly office elective, and open to all Spartans, no doubt with the hope of obtaining it for himself.[d] LYSANDER’S PLOT [Sidenote: [404-395 B.C.]] The melodramatic scheme to secure the throne, which has been credited to Lysander, was discredited by Thirlwall, and Mitford, but Grote, Bury, and others accept it, and it is curious enough to deserve chronicle here: When the Heraclidæ mixed with Dorians, and settled in Peloponnesus, there was a large and flourishing tribe of them at Sparta. The whole, however, were not entitled to the regal succession, but only two families, the Eurytionidæ and the Agidæ; while the rest had no share in the administration on account of their high birth. For as to the common rewards of virtue, they were open to all men of distinguished merit. Lysander, who was of this lineage, no sooner saw himself exalted by his great actions, and supported with friends and power, but he became uneasy to think that a city which owed its grandeur to him, should be ruled by others no better descended than himself. Hence he entertained a design to alter the settlement which confined the succession to two families only, and to lay it open to all the Heraclidæ. Some say, his intention was to extend this high honour not only to all the Heraclidæ, but to all the citizens of Sparta; that it might not so much belong to the posterity of Hercules, as to those who resembled Hercules in that virtue which numbered him with the gods. He hoped, too, that when the crown was settled in this manner, no Spartan would have better pretensions than himself. At first he prepared to draw the citizens into his scheme, and committed to memory an oration written by Cleon of Halicarnassus for that purpose. But he soon saw that so great and difficult a reformation required bolder and more extraordinary methods to bring it to bear. And as in tragedy machinery is made use of, where more natural means will not do, so he resolved to strike the people with oracles and prophecies; well knowing that the eloquence of Cleon would avail but little, unless he first subdued their minds with divine sanctions and the terrors of superstition. Ephorus tells us, he first attempted to corrupt the priestess of Delphi, and afterwards those of Dodona by means of one Pherecles; and having no success in either application, he went himself to the oracle of Ammon, and offered the priests large sums of gold. They too rejected his offers with indignation, and sent deputies to Sparta to accuse him of that crime. When these Libyans found he was acquitted, they took their leave of the Spartans in this manner: “We will pass better judgments, when you come to live among us in Libya.” It seems there was an ancient prophecy, that the Lacedæmonians would some time or other settle in Africa. This whole scheme of Lysander was of no ordinary texture, nor took its rise from accidental circumstances, but was laid deep and conducted with uncommon art and address: so that it may be compared to a mathematical demonstration, in which, from some principles first assumed, the conclusion is deduced through a variety of abstruse and intricate steps. We shall, therefore, explain it at large, taking Ephorus, who was both an historian and philosopher, for our guide. [Illustration: GREEK DOOR KEYS] [Sidenote: [400-395 B.C.]] There was a woman in Pontus who gave it out that she was pregnant by Apollo. Many rejected her assertion, and many believed it. So that when she was delivered of a son, several persons of the greatest eminence took particular care of his education, and for some reason or other gave him the name of Silenus. Lysander took this miraculous birth for a foundation, and raised all his building upon it. He made choice of such assistants, as might bring the story into reputation, and put it beyond suspicion. Then he got another story propagated at Delphi and spread at Sparta, that certain ancient oracles were kept in the private registers of the priests, which it was not lawful to touch or to look upon, till in some future age a person should arise, who could clearly prove himself the son of Apollo, and he was to interpret and publish these oracles. The way thus prepared, Silenus was to make his appearance, as the son of Apollo, and demand the oracles. The priests, who were in combination, were to inquire into every article, and examine him strictly as to his birth. At last they were to pretend to be convinced of his divine parentage, and to show him the books. Silenus then was to read in public all those prophecies, particularly that for which the whole design was set on foot; namely, that it would be more for the honour and interest of Sparta to set aside the present race of kings, and choose others out of the best and most worthy men in the commonwealth. But when Silenus was grown up, and came to undertake his part, Lysander had the mortification to see his piece miscarry by the cowardice of one of the actors, whose heart failed him just as the thing was going to be put in execution. However, nothing of this was discovered while Lysander lived. Lysander’s poverty, which was discovered after his death, added lustre to his virtue. It was then found, that notwithstanding the money which had passed through his hands, the authority he had exercised over so many cities, and indeed the great empire he had been possessed of, he had not in the least improved his family fortune. Ephorus tells us that, afterwards, upon some disputes between the confederates and the Spartans, it was thought necessary to inspect the writings of Lysander, and for that purpose Agesilaus went to his house. Among the other papers he found that political one, calculated to show how proper it would be to take the right of succession from the Eurytionidæ and Agidæ, and to elect kings from among persons of the greatest merit. He was going to produce it before the citizens, and to show what the real principles of Lysander were. But Lacratides, a man of sense, and the principal of the ephors, kept him from it, by representing how wrong it would be to dig Lysander out of his grave, when this oration, which was written in so artful and persuasive a manner, ought rather to be buried with him. Among the other honours paid to the memory of Lysander, that which we shall mention is none of the least. Some persons who had contracted themselves to his daughters in his lifetime, when they found he died poor, fell off from their engagement. The Spartans fined them for courting the alliance while they had riches in view, and breaking off when they discovered that poverty which was the best proof of Lysander’s probity and justice. It seems, at Sparta there was a law which punished, not only those who continued in a state of celibacy, or married too late, but those that married ill; and it was levelled chiefly at persons who married into rich rather than good families.[e] AGESILAUS RECALLED [Sidenote: [395 B.C.]] While these movements were taking place in Greece, Agesilaus was carrying on the war in Asia, with an activity and success which might well have alarmed the Persian court, and proved the wisdom of the precautions adopted by Tithraustes. On his march into the province of Pharnabazus, he was accompanied by Spithridates, who urged him to advance into Paphlagonia, and undertook to make Cotys, the king of that country, his ally. Cotys, who is elsewhere named Corylas, was one of those powerful hereditary vassals of the Persian king, whose subjection had become merely nominal, and he had lately renounced even the appearance of submission. Artaxerxes, imprudently or insidiously, had put his obedience to the test, by summoning or inviting him to court. But the Paphlagonian prince was too wary, and knew the character of the Persian government too well, to trust himself in its power, and he had openly refused to obey the royal command. It would add nothing to his offence, though something to his security, to treat with the enemies of Artaxerxes. Nothing could be more agreeable to Agesilaus than the opportunity of gaining so powerful an ally; he gladly accepted the mediation of Spithridates, who not only fulfilled his promise, and engaged Cotys to come to the Greek camp, and conclude an alliance with Sparta in person, but prevailed on him, before his departure, to leave a reinforcement of one thousand cavalry, and two thousand targeteers, with the army of Agesilaus. To reward Spithridates for this important service, in a manner which would strengthen the Greek interest in Asia, Agesilaus, with great address, negotiated a match between Cotys and the daughter of Spithridates, so as to lead each party to consider himself as under obligations to the other, and both to look upon him as their benefactor. As the season was too far advanced for a journey by land across the Paphlagonian mountains, the young lady was sent by sea, under the charge of a Spartan officer, to the dominions of her intended consort; and Agesilaus returned to take up his winter quarters in the territories of Pharnabazus, and in the satrap’s own residence of Dascylium. Here were parks, chases, and forests abounding in game of every kind, and round about were many large villages plentifully stocked with provisions for the ordinary supply of the princely household. The domain was skirted by the windings of a river, full of various kinds of fish. Here therefore the Greek army passed the winter in ease and plenty, making excursions, as occasion invited, into the surrounding country far and wide, while Pharnabazus was forced to range over it as a houseless fugitive, carrying with him his family and his treasures, for which he could find no place of permanent shelter, and, even in this Scythian mode of life, never free from apprehensions for his personal safety. Sometimes, however, he hovered in the neighbourhood of the Greeks, and once surprised them in one of their marauding excursions; and though he had with him only two scythe-chariots, and about four hundred cavalry, he dispersed a body of seven hundred Greek horse with his chariots, and drove them, with the loss of one hundred men, to seek shelter from their heavy infantry. A few days after this skirmish Spithridates learned that the satrap was encamped in the village of Cava, about twenty miles off, and communicated the discovery to Herippidas. Herippidas, who loved a brilliant enterprise, was immediately fired with the hope of making himself master of the satrap’s camp and person, and requested Agesilaus to grant him, for this purpose, two thousand heavy infantry, as many targeteers, the Paphlagonian cavalry, and those of Spithridates, and as many of the Greek horse as might be willing to take part in the adventure. He obtained all he asked; but at night, at the hour of departure, he found that not half of his volunteers appeared at the appointed place. Nevertheless, fearing the raillery of his colleagues, if he should desist, he persevered in his undertaking, and after marching all night, arrived at daybreak at the encampment of Pharnabazus. He overpowered a body of Mysians at the outpost; but their resistance afforded time for the escape of Pharnabazus and his family, who however left the camp, with a great treasure of drinking vessels and costly furniture, in the possession of the assailants. But Herippidas, being anxious, for the sake of his own honour, to deliver the whole booty into the hands of the officers who in the Spartan army answered to the Roman quæstors, took precautions to exclude his allies from all share in it; and he thus deprived the Spartan arms of an advantage much more important than the value of the spoil. For Spithridates and the Paphlagonians, indignant at this treatment, deserted the camp the next night, and repairing to Sardis entered the service of Ariæus, who had again revolted, and was at war with the king: Agesilaus was more deeply affected by this loss than by any mischance that he met with in the course of his expedition: and he seems to have regretted it still more on private than on public grounds. Not long after, a prospect seemed to be opened to him of gaining a much more valuable ally. A Greek of Cyzicus, who was connected by ties of hospitality with Pharnabazus, and had recently entered into the same relation with Agesilaus, proposed to him to bring about an interview between him and the satrap. The preliminaries were arranged, and a place of meeting appointed in the open air, to which Agesilaus came accompanied by the Thirty, and they seated themselves on the grass to wait for Pharnabazus. He came attended by a train of servants, who, according to the Persian fashion, proceeded to lay down a carpet and cushions for their master. But the intelligent Persian, struck by the contrast of the Spartan simplicity, in a fortune at present so much more prosperous than his own, ordered these instruments of luxury to be removed, and, in his splendid attire, took his seat without ceremony on the green-sward by the side of Agesilaus. [Sidenote: [395-394 B.C.]] After the forms of a friendly greeting had been interchanged, Pharnabazus opened the conference with an expostulation on the hard treatment which he had suffered. He reminded his hearers of the zeal and constancy with which he had espoused the cause of Sparta in the war with Athens. Nevertheless Spartan hostility had now reduced him to such a condition that even in his own territory he did not know how to find a meal, except such as he could collect, like a dog, from the orts and leavings of their rapine; while his fair patrimonial mansions, his pleasant woods and parks, had been all burned, and felled, and spoiled. If, he concluded, it was his ignorance that made him unable to reconcile such conduct with the obligations of justice and gratitude, he desired that the Spartans would enlighten him. This address, Xenophon says, struck the Thirty with shame, and it was some time before Agesilaus broke the silence that ensued. Private friendship, he said, must give way to reasons of state. The Spartans, being at war with the king of Persia, were compelled to treat all his subjects as their enemies; and Pharnabazus among the rest, however glad they might be to gain him for their friend. And what they had now to propose was not that he should exchange one master for another, but that he should at once become their ally, and independent of every superior. Nor was it a poor or barren independence that they held out to him, but a rich addition to his hereditary possessions, which their aid would enable him to make at the expense of his fellow subjects, who would then be forced to own him as their master. Pharnabazus, in answer to these overtures, said that he would frankly declare his mind to them. If the king should attempt to place any other general in authority over him, he would renounce his allegiance, and ally himself to Sparta; but if his master entrusted him with the supreme command in that part of his domains, he would do his best to defend them. Agesilaus grasped his hand, and assured him of his warmest regard, and, under the excitement of a generous feeling, forgetting the excuse he had just before made for his past conduct, promised to withdraw immediately from his territories, and, though they should continue at war, to abstain from invading them, as long as there was any other quarter in which he could employ his forces. So the interview ended. Agesilaus kept his word, and withdrew his forces from the satrapy of Pharnabazus, where indeed it is probable he would not otherwise have stayed much longer, as the spring was coming on, and he was meditating a new expedition, in which he meant to advance as far as he could into the interior. By this movement, if he gained no more decisive advantage, he expected that he should at least separate all the provinces which he left behind him from the Persian empire. With this design he proceeded to the plain of Thebe, where he encamped, and began to collect all the forces he could raise from the allied cities. He was in the midst of these preparations, when he received a message from the ephors, which was brought by a Spartan named Epicydidas, who apprised him of the new turn which affairs had taken in Greece, and summoned him to march with the utmost speed for the defence of his country. Agesilaus received this intelligence with fortitude, though it stopped him at the outset of the most brilliant career that had ever yet been opened by a Greek, and obeyed the command of the ephors with as much promptness as if he had been present in their council-room at Sparta.[d] FOOTNOTES [7] [Elea is used here to denote the district of which the city of Elis was the capital.] [8] [It was commonly believed that Alcibiades was the father of Leotychides.] [Illustration: GREEK VASES] CHAPTER XLIII. THE CORINTHIAN WAR [Sidenote: [394 B.C.]] Two cares principally engaged Agesilaus before his departure; to provide security for the Asian Greeks in his absence, and to have a numerous and well-appointed army to lead into Greece. For the former purpose, naming Euxenus to preside, with the title of harmost, he placed a body of four thousand men under his orders. With the latter view, he proposed prizes for the cities which should furnish the best troops; and for commanders of mercenaries, horse, heavy-armed, bowmen, and targeteers, whose bands should be the best chosen, best appointed, and best disciplined. The prizes were mostly arms, elegantly wrought; but, for higher merit, or the merit of those of higher rank, there were some golden crowns; and Xenophon mentions it, as a large sum for the occasion, that the expense amounted to four talents, less than a thousand pounds sterling. Three Lacedæmonians, with one officer from each Asiatic city, were named for judges; but the decision, or the declaration of it, was judiciously referred to the arrival of the army in the Thracian Chersonesus. Unable as the leading men in the Lacedæmonian administration were, either to conduct a war against the powerful confederacy formed against them, or, upon any tolerable terms, to prevent it, the recall of Agesilaus seems to have been a necessary measure. The army assembled by their enemies was such as had not often been seen in wars within Greece. Argos furnished seven thousand heavy-armed; Athens had already recovered strength to send six thousand, and add six hundred horse; Bœotia, Corinth, Eubœa, and Locris made the whole of the army twenty-four thousand heavy-armed, with above fifteen hundred cavalry; to which was added a large body of the best light-armed of Greece, Acarnanians, Ozolian Locrians, and Malians. The fighting men of all descriptions must have amounted to fifty thousand. The avowed purpose was to invade Laconia. “The Lacedæmonian state,” said the Corinthian Timolaus, in a debate on the plan of operations, “resembles a river, which, near the source, is easily forded, but the farther it flows, other streams joining, the depth and power of the current increases. Thus the Lacedæmonians always march from home with their own troops only; but as they proceed, being reinforced from other cities, their army swells and grows formidable. I hold it therefore advisable to attack them, if possible, in Lacedæmon itself; otherwise, the nearer to Lacedæmon the better.” Against so powerful a league, the allies, whom the Lacedæmonians could now command, were principally from the smaller Grecian cities, and none beyond Peloponnesus. Marching themselves six thousand foot and six hundred horse, and being joined by the Mantineans and Tegeans, whose numbers are not reported, they were farther reinforced by no more than seven thousand five hundred heavy-armed, from Epidaurus, Hermione, Trœzen, Sicyon, Achaia, and Elis. Aristodemus, of the blood royal, as regent, commanded for the king, Agesipolis, yet a boy. Circumstances commonly occur to render confederate armies less efficacious, in proportion to their strength, than those under a single authority. A dispute about the command in chief, with some difference of opinion about their order of battle, some of the generals being for deeper, others for more extended phalanges, gave opportunity for the Lacedæmonians to collect their forces, and march far beyond their own frontier, so as to meet the enemy near Corinth. In the account of the preparatory sacrifices there drops from Xenophon a remarkable confession, that those ceremonies were sometimes engines of policy. While the Bœotians, he says, held the left of their army, they were in no haste to engage; but, as soon as they had prevailed to have their situation in the line changed, so that the Athenians would be opposed to the Lacedæmonians, and themselves to the Achæans, then they declared that the symptoms of the victims were favourable. They saved themselves perhaps some slaughter by this disingenuous artifice. In the battle which ensued the Achæans fled, and all the allies of Lacedæmon equally yielded to those opposed to them. But the Athenians were defeated with considerable slaughter; and the superior discipline of the Lacedæmonians so prevailed against superior numbers that, with the loss of only eight of their own body, they remained finally masters of the field; in which, if we may trust Xenophon’s panegyric of Agesilaus for what he has omitted to state in his general history, no less than ten thousand of the confederate army fell.[9] Probably however, though the Lacedæmonians themselves suffered little, their allies suffered much; for the victory seems to have been little farther decisive than to prevent the invasion of Peloponnesus. Meanwhile Agesilaus was hastening his march from Asia. He crossed the Hellespont about the middle of July. At Amphipolis he met Dercyllidas, who had been sent to inform him of the victory obtained near Corinth. Immediately he forwarded that able and popular officer into Asia, to communicate the grateful news among the Grecian cities there, and to prepare them for his early return, of which there seemed now fair promise. Through Thrace and Macedonia the country was friendly, or feared to avow hostility. Thessaly, inimically disposed, and powerful through population and wealth resulting from the natural productiveness of the soil, was however too ill-governed to give any systematical opposition. The defiles of the mountains against Macedonia, where a small force might efficaciously oppose a large one, seem to have been left open. But the influence of the principal towns, Larissa, Cranon, Scotussa, and Pharsalus, in close alliance with the Bœotians, decided the rest, and as the Lacedæmonian army crossed the plain a body of horse, raised from the whole province, infested the march. It was singularly gratifying to Agesilaus that, with his horse, promiscuously collected, and entirely formed by himself, supporting it judiciously with his infantry, he defeated and dispersed the Thessalian, the most celebrated cavalry of Greece. On the day after this success he reached the highlands of Phthia; and thence the country was friendly quite to the border of Bœotia. But there news met him, unwelcome for the public, unwelcome on his private account, and such as instantly almost to blot out his once bright prospect, which, as the historian, his friend and the companion of his march, shows, he had thus far been fondly cherishing, of conquest in Asia, and glory over the world. While the misconduct of the Lacedæmonian administration had excited a confederacy within Greece, which proposed to overwhelm Lacedæmon by superiority of land-force, and, with that view, to carry war directly into Laconia, a hostile navy had arisen in another quarter, powerful enough to have already deprived her, by one blow, of her new dominion of the sea. The train of circumstances which had produced this event, though memorials fail for a complete investigation of it, will require some attention. [Illustration: A CORINTHIAN VASE (In the Museum of Napoleon III)] We have seen Cyprus, at a very early age, from a Phœnician, become a Grecian island, and Salamis the first Grecian city founded there. We have then observed the Cyprian Greeks yielding to the Persian power. The ruin of the marine, the inertness of the court, and the distraction in the councils of Persia, which followed, would afford opportunity and temptation for the Cypriots, beyond other subjects of the empire, again to revolt; and the Persian interest, and the Greek, and the Phœnician, and the tyrannic, and the oligarchal, and the democratical, would be likely to fall into various contest. Such, as far as may be gathered, was the state of things which first invited Athenian ambition to direct its view to Cyprus, when the Athenian navy, rising on the ruins of the Persian, was extending dominion for Athens on all sides, under the first administration of Pericles. This view, quickly diverted to other objects, was however, after a change in the Athenian administration, resumed; and Cimon, as we have seen, died in command in Cyprus. The policy of Athens would of course propose to hold dominion, there as elsewhere, through support given to the democratical interest. But after the death of Cimon wars so engaged the Athenian government as to prevent the extension of any considerable exertion to such a distance; and the Cyprian cities were mostly governed by their several princes or tyrants, under the paramount sovereignty of Persia. Among the fugitive Greeks was Evagoras, a youth who claimed descent from the ancient princes of Salamis, of the race of Teucer. Informed of the state of things, this young man formed the bold resolution, with only about fifty fellow-sufferers in exile, devoted to his cause, to attempt the recovery of what he claimed as his paternal principality. From Soli in Cilicia, their place of refuge, they passed to the Cyprian shore, and proceeded to Salamis by night. Knowing the place well, they forced a small gate, probably as in peace, unguarded, marched directly to the palace, and, after a severe conflict, overcoming the tyrant’s guard, while the people mostly kept aloof, they remained masters of the city, and Evagoras resumed the sovereignty. This little revolution, in a distant island, became, through a chain of events out of all human foresight, a principal source of great revolutions in Greece. An extraordinary intimacy grew between the Athenian democracy and the tyrant of Salamis (for that was the title which Evagoras commonly bore among the Greeks), insomuch that the tyrant was associated among the Athenian citizens. In the ruin of Athens, impending from the defeat of Ægospotami, Conon fled thither with eight triremes, saved from the general destruction of the fleet. Conon had previous acquaintance with Evagoras; and eight triremes at his orders, equipped and ably manned, would enable him, in seeking refuge, to offer important service. The Athenian refugee became the most confidential minister of the Cyprian prince, or rather his associate in enterprise. Undertaking negotiation with Pharnabazus, he conciliated that satrap’s friendship for Evagoras; which so availed him that, without resentment from the court, or opposition from other satraps, he could add several towns of the island to his dominion. While Agesilaus was threatening the conquest of Asia, and Pharnabazus, having obtained, in a manner from his generosity and mercy, a respite from the pressure upon himself, was nevertheless apprehensive that this satrapy, separated from the body of the empire, might become dependent upon the Lacedæmonian commonwealth, Conon suggested that the progress of the Lacedæmonian arms, which seemed irresistible by land, would be most readily and efficaciously checked by a diversion by sea. A considerable fleet of Phœnician ships was at the satrap’s orders: Evagoras had a fleet which might co-operate with it; the Athenian interest, still considerable in the island and Asiatic Grecian cities, would favour the purpose; and Conon himself had consideration among those cities, and especially among their seamen. Even before Agesilaus left Asia, a project, founded on these suggestions, seems to have been in forwardness. Soon after his departure, through the combined exertions of Pharnabazus, Evagoras, and Conon, a fleet very superior to the Lacedæmonian was assembled; and the generous Pharnabazus formed the resolution, extraordinary for a Persian satrap, to take the nominal command in person, having the good sense apparently to leave the effective command to the superior abilities and experience of Conon. BATTLE OF CNIDUS Near Cnidus they met the Lacedæmonian fleet, and the brave but inexperienced Pisander, brother-in-law of Agesilaus, would not avoid a battle. Conon and Evagoras led the Grecian force against him: Pharnabazus took the particular command of the Phœnician, forming a second line. The Grecian force alone, according to report, though Xenophon does not speak of it as certain, outnumbered the Lacedæmonian fleet. The allies in the left of the Lacedæmonian line, alarmed at the view of the enemy’s great superiority, presently fled. Pisander was then quickly overpowered. His galley being driven on the Cnidian shore, the crew mostly escaped; but, refusing himself to quit his ship, he was killed aboard. The victory of Conon was complete: according to Diodorus fifty ships were taken. Such was the disastrous event, the news of which met Agesilaus on his arrival on the confines of Bœotia. The first information struck him with extreme anguish and dejection. Presently, however, the consideration occurring how disadvantageous, in the existing circumstances, the communication of it might be, he had command enough of himself to check all appearance of his feelings. His army consisted mostly of volunteers, attached indeed to his character, but more to his good fortune; and bound, as by no necessity, so by no very firm principle, to partake in expected distress. With such an army he was to meet, within a few days, the combined forces of one of the most powerful confederacies ever formed in Greece. To support, or, if possible, raise, the confidence and zeal of his troops, though by a device of efficacy to be of short duration, might be greatly important. He therefore directed report to be authoritatively circulated that Pisander, though at the expense of his life, had gained a complete victory; and, to give sanction to the story, he caused the ceremony of the evangelian sacrifice to be performed, and distributed the offered oxen among the soldiers. Resuming then his march, in the vale of Coronea he met the confederate army, consisting of the flower of the Bœotian, Athenian, Argive, Corinthian, Eubœan, Locrian, and Ænian forces. Expecting this formidable assemblage, he had been attentive to all opportunity for acquiring addition to his own strength. Some he had gained from the Grecian towns on his march through Thrace. On the Bœotian border he was joined by the strength of Phocis, and also of the Bœotian Orchomenos, always inimical to Thebes. A Lacedæmonian mora had been sent from Peloponnesus to reinforce him, with half a mora which had been in garrison in Orchomenos. The numbers of the two armies were thus nearly equal; but the Asiatic Grecian troops, which made a large part of that under Agesilaus, were reckoned very inferior to the European. It was in the spirit of the institutions of Lycurgus that Agesilaus, otherwise simple, even as a Spartan, in his dress and manner, paid much attention to what our great dramatic poet has called “the pomp and circumstance of war”; aware how much it attaches the general mind, gives the soldier to be satisfied with himself, and binds his fancy to the service he is engaged in. Scarlet or crimson appears to have been a common uniform of the Greeks, and the army of Agesilaus appeared, in Xenophon’s phrase, all brass and scarlet. THE BATTLE OF CORONEA According to the usual manner of war among the Greeks, when the armies approached a battle soon followed. On the present occasion both quitted advantageous ground; Agesilaus moving from the bank of the Cephissus, and the confederates from the roots of Helicon, to meet in a plain. Perfect silence was observed by both armies till within nearly a furlong of each other, when the confederates gave the military shout, and advanced running. At a somewhat smaller distance the opposite army ran to meet the charge. The Lacedæmonians, on its right, where Agesilaus took post, instantly overthrew the Argives, their immediate opponents, who, scarcely waiting the assault, fled toward Helicon. The Cyreans supported in Greece the reputation they had acquired in Asia; and were so emulated by the Ionians, Æolians, and Hellespontines, from whom less was expected, that, all coming to push of spear together, they compelled the centre of the confederate army to retreat. The victory seemed so decided that some of the Asiatics were for paying Agesilaus the usual compliment of crowning on the occasion; when information was brought him, that the Thebans had routed the Orchomenians, who held the extreme of his left wing, and had penetrated to the baggage. Immediately changing his front, he proceeded toward them. The Thebans perceived they were cut off from their allies, who had already fled far from the field. It was a common practice of the Thebans to charge in column, directing their assault, not against the whole, but a chosen point of the enemy’s line. Thus they had gained the battle of Delium against the Athenians, in the eighth year of the Peloponnesian War. To such a formation their able leaders had recourse now; resolving upon the bold attempt to pierce the line of the conquering Lacedæmonians; not any longer with the hope of victory, but with the view to join their defeated allies in retreat. Xenophon praises the bravery, evidently not without meaning some reflection on the judgment, of Agesilaus; who chose to engage them, he says, front to front, when, if he had opened his line and given them passage, their flanks and rear would have been exposed to him. [Illustration: RUINS OF ANCIENT WALL, AT CORA (With Modern Structure Superimposed)] A most fierce conflict ensued. Shield pressed against shield, stroke was returned for stroke; amid wounds and death no clamour was heard; neither, says the historian, who accompanied the Spartan king, was there complete silence, for the mutterings of rage were mixed with the din of weapons. The perseverance, the discipline, and the skill in arms of the Thebans were such, and such the force of their solid column, that, after many had fallen, a part actually pierced the Lacedæmonian line, and reached the highlands of Helicon; but the greater part, compelled to retreat, were mostly put to the sword. In this obstinate action Agesilaus was severely wounded. His attendants were bearing him from the field when a party of horse came to ask orders concerning about eighty Thebans, who, with their arms, had reached a temple. Mindful, amid his suffering, of respect due to the deity, he commanded that liberty should be granted to them to pass unhurt, whithersoever they pleased. In the philosopher-historian’s manner of relating this anecdote is implied that, among the Greeks, in such circumstances, revenge would have prompted an ordinary mind; and, even in Agesilaus, the generous action is attributed, not to humanity, but to superstition; not to an opinion of the deity’s regard for mercy and charity among men, but to the fear, unless it were rather the desire of inculcating the fear, of his resentment for any want of respectful attention to himself. When pursuit ended, the victorious army anxiously employed itself in dragging the enemy’s slain within its own lines: a remarkable testimony, from the same great writer, to the prevalence still, in a degree that may surprise us, of that barbarism in war, which in Homer’s description is striking, though in his age less a matter for wonder. Next morning early the troops were ordered to parade with arms, all wearing chaplets. Agesilaus himself being unable to attend, the polemarch Gylis commanded at the ceremony of raising the trophy; which was performed with all the music of the army playing, and every circumstance of pomp, that might most inspire, among the soldiery, alacrity and self-satisfaction. Why then no measures were taken to profit from the advantages, which victory apparently should have laid open, is not shown. The Thebans sending, in usual form, for permission to bury their dead, a truce was granted them, evidently for a longer time than for that purpose alone, could be wanted. Meanwhile the Lacedæmonian army withdrew into Phocis, a country friendly or neutral, to perform a ceremony to which Grecian superstition indeed attached much importance, the dedication of the tenth of the spoil collected by Agesilaus in his Asiatic command. It amounted to a hundred talents; perhaps something more than twenty thousand pounds. After this second triumphal rite the army, committed to the orders of Gylis, proceeded into the neighbouring hostile province of Ozolian Locris, where the object seems to have been little more than to collect plunder, which, according to the Grecian manner, might serve the soldiers instead of pay. Corn, goods, whatever the rapacious troops could find in the villages, were taken. The Locrians, unable to prevent the injury, did nevertheless what they best could to revenge it. Occupying the defiles which, in returning into Phocis, were necessarily to be repassed, they gave such annoyance that Gylis was provoked to take the command of a select body in pursuit of them. Entangled among the mountains, he was himself killed, and the whole party would have been cut off, had not the officers left with the command of the main body brought seasonable relief. Agesilaus, still from his wounds unfit for fatigue, passed by sea to Laconia, and the army was distributed in quarters. If any other writer had ever given any authority for the supposition, we might suspect that Xenophon’s account of the battle of Coronea was written under the influence of partiality for his friend and patron, and that the victory was less complete than he has described it.[10] Yet we are not without information of circumstances which may have given occasion for the line of conduct which Agesilaus pursued. The defeat of Cnidus produced a great and rapid revolution in Asiatic Greece. And thus the fabric of the Lacedæmonian empire, seemingly so established by the event of the Peloponnesian War, and since so extended by the ability of the commanders in Asia, was in large proportion almost instantly overthrown. Most of the principal officers, and many inferior men, of the numerous Asiatic troops under Agesilaus, would be deeply interested in this revolution. The principal sources of pay for all would cease; and hence the plain of Coronea seems to have been the last field of fame for the Cyreans. We find no mention of them afterwards from Xenophon: apparent proof that their following fortunes were not brilliant; not such as he could have any satisfaction in reporting. Probably they dispersed, some to their homes, some to seek new service, and never more assembled.[b] LAND AFFAIRS OF THE CORINTHIAN WAR [Sidenote: [394-392 B.C.]] Xenophon was no such student of the accurate arrangement of events as was Thucydides, and the history recounted hereafter is differently ordered by different historians; by some the massacre at Corinth is postponed two years, to 392 B.C. The massacre which Xenophon with his Spartan sympathies makes so cold-blooded a butchery is by sober historians credited merely to the government’s anticipation of a similar step on the part of the opposition.[a] Corinth still continued to be the theatre of war. A Lacedæmonian garrison occupied Sicyon, and made frequent inroads into the Corinthian territory. The allies of Corinth were well pleased to see themselves thus exempt from the calamities of war at her expense. But the party among the Corinthians which, on political grounds, desired to renew their connection with Sparta, derived new motives from this state of things to encourage them in their designs; and they began to hold private meetings to concert measures for restoring peace. Their movements were observed by their adversaries, who determined to counteract them by one of those atrocious massacres which so frequently disfigure the pages of Greek history. We do not know what credit may be due to Xenophon, when he intimates that all the principal allies of Corinth,--the Argives, and Bœotians, and Athenians,--had an equal share in the conspiracy, or whether he is only speaking of the foreign garrison. His horror is chiefly excited by the impiety of the murderers, who selected a holiday for the deed, that they might be the more likely to find their enemies out of doors, and in the execution of their purpose paid no regard to the most sacred things and places, but stained even the altars and images of the gods with the blood of their victims. Unhappily this was no new excess of party rage: but perhaps few scenes of this kind had been planned with more ferocious coolness, or accompanied with a greater number of shocking circumstances; though it must not be forgotten that it is Xenophon who describes it. Suspicions however had been previously entertained of the plot by Pasimelus, one of the persecuted party, and at the time of the tumult a body of the younger citizens was assembled with him in a place of exercise outside the walls. They immediately ran up to seize the Acrocorinthus, where they maintained themselves for a time against the attacks of their enemies. But an unpropitious omen, probably strengthening the consciousness of their weakness, made them resolve to withdraw, and to seek safety in exile. Yet, notwithstanding the impious treachery of their enemies, they were induced by the persuasions of their friends and relatives, and by the oaths of the leading men of the opposite party, to abandon this intention, and return to their homes. But their fears for their personal safety had no sooner subsided, than the state of public affairs again began to appear insupportable, and they were ready to run any risk for the sake of a change. The opposite party had gone so far in their enmity to Sparta, or in their zeal for democracy, as to do their utmost towards establishing a complete unity, both of civil rights and of territory, between Corinth and Argos. The land-marks which separated the two states had been removed; so that the name either of Corinth or of Argos might be applied to the whole. But since it was Argive influence that had brought about this union, since the Argive institutions had been adopted, and the Argive franchise communicated to the Corinthians, the discontented had some reason to complain, that Corinth had lost her independence and dignity, while Argos had gained an increase of territory by the transaction. But what they bore still more impatiently, was the loss of their own rank and influence, which were totally extinguished by the union; they no longer enjoyed any exclusive privileges, any rights which they did not share with the whole Argive-Corinthian commonalty; and this was a franchise which they valued no more than the condition of an alien. They therefore resolved on a desperate effort for restoring Corinth to her former station in Greece, and for recovering their own station in Corinth. [Sidenote: [392 B.C.]] Pasimelus and Alcimenes took the lead in this enterprise. They obtained a secret interview with Praxitas, the Spartan commander at Sicyon, and proposed to admit him and his troops within the walls that joined Corinth with Lechæum, her port on the western gulf. He knew the men, and embraced their offer; and at an appointed hour of night came with a mora of Lacedæmonians, and a body of Sicyonians and of Corinthian exiles, to a gate where the conspirators had contrived to get themselves placed on duty. He was introduced without any opposition; but as the space between the walls was large, and he had brought but a small force with him, he threw up a slight entrenchment, to secure himself until the succours which he expected should arrive. During the next day he remained quiet, and was not attacked; though, besides the garrison of the city, there was a body of Bœotians behind him at Lechæum. But aid had been summoned from Argos, and on the day following the Argive forces arrived, and, confident in their numbers, immediately sought the enemy. They were supported by their Corinthian partisans, and by a body of mercenaries commanded by Iphicrates, an Athenian general, who in this war laid the foundation of his military renown. The superiority of the Lacedæmonian troops over the other Greeks, and the terror they inspired even when they were greatly outnumbered, was again strikingly manifested in the engagement which ensued. The Argives forced their way through the entrenchment, and drove the handful of Sicyonians before them down to the sea. But when the Lacedæmonians came up, they took to flight, without offering any resistance, and made for the city. But, meeting with the Corinthian exiles, who had defeated the mercenaries, and were returning from the pursuit, they were driven back, and those who did not make their escape by ladders over the wall, were slaughtered by the Lacedæmonians like a flock of sheep. Lachæum was taken, and the Bœotian garrison was put to the sword. After his victory Praxitas was joined by the expected contingents of the allies, and he made use of them first to demolish the Long Walls, for a space sufficient to afford a passage for an army. Next, crossing the isthmus, he took and garrisoned the towns of Sidus and Crommyon. On his return he fortified the heights of Epieicea, which commanded one of the most important passes, and then disbanded his army, and returned to Sparta. Two important consequences of the long series of hostilities in which all the Greek states had been engaged now became apparent. The number of persons who were thrown upon war as a means of subsistence had so much increased, that the contending powers were able to carry on the struggle with mercenary troops. Another result of the long practice of war was, that it had begun to be more and more studied as an art, and cultivated with new refinements. Thus Iphicrates had been led to devote his attention to the improvement of a branch of the light infantry, which had hitherto been accounted of little moment in the Greek military system. He had formed a new body of targeteers, which in some degree combined the peculiar advantages of the heavy and light troops, and was equally adapted for combat and pursuit. To attain these objects, he had substituted a linen corslet for the ancient coat of mail, and had reduced the size of the shield, while he doubled the length of the spear and the sword. At the head of this corps he made frequent inroads into Peloponnesus, and in the territory of Phlius he surprised the forces of the little state in an ambuscade, and made so great a slaughter of them that the Phliasians were obliged to admit a Lacedæmonian garrison into their town. But in Arcadia such was the terror inspired by the troops of Iphicrates, that they were suffered to plunder the country with impunity, and the Arcadians did not venture to meet them in the field. On the other hand they were themselves no less in dread of the Lacedæmonians, who had taught them to keep aloof in a manner which proved the peculiar excellence of the Spartan military training. A Lacedæmonian _mora_, stationed at Lechæum, accompanied by the Corinthian exiles, ranged the country round about Corinth without interruption. Yet it was not able to prevent the Athenians from repairing the breach which Praxitas had made in the Long Walls, which they regarded as a barrier that screened Attica from invasion. The whole serviceable population of Athens, with a company of carpenters and masons, sallied forth to the isthmus, and having restored the western wall in a few days, completed the other at their leisure. Their work, however, was destroyed in the course of the same summer by Agesilaus, on his return from an expedition which he had made into Argolis, for the purpose of letting the Argives taste the fruits of the war which they had helped to stir, and were most forward to keep up. After having carried his ravages into every part of their territory, he marched to Corinth, stormed the newly repaired walls, and recovered Lechæum. Here he met his brother Teleutias, who, through his influence, which in this case was better exerted than in that of Pisander, had been appointed to the command of the fleet, and having come with a small squadron to support his operations, made some prizes in the harbour and the docks. [Sidenote: [392-391 B.C.]] But the appearance of Teleutias in the Corinthian Gulf was connected with other events, more important than any which took place in Peloponnesus after the return of Agesilaus from Asia. That we exhibit them in an uninterrupted series, together with their consequences, we shall follow Xenophon’s order, and return to them after having briefly related how the war was carried on in Greece, in the campaigns which ensued down to its close. In the spring of 392, Agesilaus made a fresh expedition for the purpose of bringing the Corinthians to terms, by cutting off one of their chief resources, the fortress of Piræum, at the foot of Mount Geranea on the western gulf. The captures and the booty were brought out, and passed in review before Agesilaus, as he sat in an adjacent building on the margin of a small lake. His triumph was heightened by the presence of envoys from various states, among the rest from Thebes, where the party which desired peace had succeeded in procuring an embassy to be sent for the purpose of ascertaining the terms which Sparta would grant. Agesilaus, the more fully to enjoy their humiliation, affected to take no notice of their presence, while Pharax, their proxenus, stood by him, waiting for an opportunity to present them. Just at this juncture a horseman came up, his horse covered with foam, and informed the king of a disaster which had just befallen the garrison of Lechæum, the loss of almost a whole mora, which had been intercepted and cut off by Iphicrates and his targeteers. The action was in itself so trifling, that it would scarcely have deserved mention, but for the importance attached to it at the time, and the celebrity which it retained for many generations. After all, the whole loss of the Lacedæmonians amounted to no more than 250 men. Yet it produced a degree of consternation and dejection on the one side, and of exultation on the other, which is significant in the same proportion that the disaster appears to us slight and the exploit inconsiderable. Nothing more clearly shows the weakness of Sparta and the power of her name than the importance attributed both by herself and by her enemies to this petty affair. Agesilaus, having accomplished the object of his expedition, now set out homeward. He took with him the remnant of the defeated mora, leaving another in its room at Lechæum. But his march through Peloponnesus was like that of the Roman army on its return from the Caudine Forks. He would only enter the towns, where he was forced to rest, as late as he could in the evening, and left them again at break of day. At Mantinea, though it was dark when he reached it, he would not stop at all, that his men might not have to endure the insulting joy of their ill-affected allies. On the other hand Iphicrates was emboldened by his success to aim at fresh advantages; and he recovered Sidus, Crommyon, and Œnoe, where Agesilaus had left a garrison. His achievement so terrorised the Corinthian exiles at Sicyon, that they no longer ventured to repeat their marauding excursions by land, but crossed over the gulf, and landed near Corinth, where they saw opportunity of giving annoyance. Even in later times the destruction of the Lacedæmonian mora, 250 men, continued to be mentioned as the great military action of his life, and was not thought unworthy to be named in the same page with Marathon and Platæa. It is not improbable that this victory of Iphicrates was attended with another result, which Xenophon has not thought fit to notice. It seems not only to have prevented the Theban envoys from discharging their commission, but to have put a stop to a negotiation which was proceeding at the same time between Athens and Sparta, after it had reached a very advanced stage. Minute as these occurrences are, they are perhaps, both in themselves and for the impression they produced, the most momentous that took place in Greece before the end of the war. We should have been glad indeed to know a little more of the causes which withdrew Iphicrates from this scene of action shortly after his victory: for they would perhaps have thrown some light on the internal state of Corinth. But Xenophon only informs us that he was dismissed by the Argives, after he had put to death some Corinthians of their party; from what motive and on what pretext we do not learn, nor does it appear whether this transaction had any influence on the relations between Athens and Argos. [Sidenote: [391-390 B.C.]] In the year following no military operations seem to have taken place in Peloponnesus, except the petty combats or alternate inroads between Sicyon and Corinth, which Xenophon himself does not think worth more than a general notice. But the arms of Agesilaus were turned against Acarnania, where he displayed his usual ability, and established the Spartan supremacy almost without bloodshed. An Athenian squadron was lying at Œniadæ, to intercept him, if, as was expected, he should attempt to cross the gulf from any part of the coast immediately below Calydon. To avoid it he marched to Rhium through the heart of Ætolia, by roads along which, Xenophon observes, no army, great or small, could have passed without the consent of the Ætolians. They permitted his passage, because they hoped to be aided by his influence in recovering Naupactus. At Rhium he crossed the straits, and returned home. The event proved the policy of the moderation which he had shown against the wish of his allies. The next spring, as he was preparing for a second invasion of Acarnania, the Acarnanians, alarmed by the prospect of again losing a harvest, on which the subsistence of the people, who were but little conversant with arts or commerce, mainly depended, sent envoys to Sparta to treat for peace, and submitted to the terms which Agesilaus had dictated. The same year his young colleague Agesipolis, who had now reached his majority, was entrusted with the command of an expedition against Argos. The expedition yielded no fruits but the plunder, with which he returned to Sparta. In the meanwhile, through the ambition of Sparta and the patriotic efforts of Conon, Athens had been enabled to take some great steps towards securing her independence, and recovering a part at least of her ancient power.[e] [Illustration: GREEK DOOR KEYS] THE GREAT DEEDS OF CONON Three great battles had been fought in little more than the space of a month (July and August)--those of Corinth, Cnidus, and Coronea: the first and third on land, the second at sea. In each of the two land-battles the Lacedæmonians had gained a victory: they remained masters of the field, and were solicited by the enemy to grant the burial-truce. But if we inquire what results these victories had produced, the answer must be that both were totally barren. Even the narrative of Xenophon, deeply coloured as it is both by his sympathies and his antipathies, indicates to us that the predominant impression carried off by every one from the field of Coronea was that of the tremendous force and obstinacy of the Theban hoplites--a foretaste of what was to come at Leuctra! If the two land-victories of Sparta were barren of results, the case was far otherwise with her naval defeat at Cnidus. That defeat was pregnant with consequences following in rapid succession, and of the most disastrous character. As with Athens at Ægospotami--the loss of her fleet, serious as that was, served only as the signal for countless following losses. Pharnabazus and Conon, with their victorious fleet, sailed from island to island, and from one continental seaport to another, in the Ægean, to expel the Lacedæmonian harmosts, and terminate the empire of Sparta. So universal was the odium which it had inspired, that the task was found easy beyond expectation. Conscious of their unpopularity, the harmosts in almost all the towns, on both sides of the Hellespont, deserted their posts and fled, on the mere news of the battle of Cnidus. Everywhere Pharnabazus and Conon found themselves received as liberators, and welcomed with presents of hospitality. They pledged themselves not to introduce any foreign force or governor, nor to fortify any separate citadel, but to guarantee to each city its own genuine autonomy. This policy was adopted by Pharnabazus at the urgent representation of Conon, who warned him that if he manifested any design of reducing the cities to subjection, he would find them all his enemies; that each of them severally would cost him a long siege; and that a combination would ultimately be formed against him. Such liberal and judicious ideas, when seen to be sincerely acted upon, produced a strong feeling of friendship and even of gratitude, so that the Lacedæmonian maritime empire was dissolved without a blow, by the almost spontaneous movements of the cities themselves. Though the victorious fleet presented itself in many different places, it was nowhere called upon to put down resistance, or to undertake a single siege. Cos, Nisyrus, Teos, Chios, Erythræ, Ephesus, Mytilene, Samos, all declared themselves independent, under the protection of the new conquerors. Pharnabazus presently disembarked at Ephesus and marched by land northward to his own satrapy, leaving a fleet of forty triremes under the command of Conon. [Sidenote: [394-393 B.C.]] To this general burst of anti-Spartan feeling, Abydos, on the Asiatic side of the Hellespont, formed the solitary exception; and it happened by a fortunate accident for Sparta that the able and experienced Dercyllidas was harmost in the town at the moment of the battle of Cnidus. Dercyllidas assembled the Abydenes, heartened them up against the reigning contagion, and exhorted them to earn the gratitude of Sparta by remaining faithful to her while others were falling off; assuring them that she would still be found capable of giving them protection. His exhortations were listened to with favour. Abydos remained attached to Sparta, was put in a good state of defence, and became the only harbour of safety for the fugitive harmosts out of the other cities, Asiatic and European. Dercyllidas maintained his position effectively both at Abydos and at Sestos; defying the requisition of Pharnabazus that he should forthwith evacuate them. The satrap threatened war, and actually ravaged the lands round Abydos; but without any result. His wrath against the Lacedæmonians, already considerable, was so aggravated by disappointment when he found that he could not yet expel them from his satrapy, that he resolved to act against them with increased energy, and even to strike a blow at them near their own home. For this purpose he transmitted orders to Conon to prepare a commanding naval force for the ensuing spring, and in the meantime to keep both Abydos and Sestos under blockade. As soon as spring arrived, Pharnabazus embarked on board a powerful fleet equipped by Conon; directing his course to Melos, to various islands among the Cyclades, and lastly to the coast of Peloponnesus. They here spent some time on the coast of Laconia and Messenia, disembarking at several points to ravage the country. They next landed on the island of Cythera, which they captured, granting safe retirement to the Lacedæmonian garrison, and leaving in the island a garrison under the Athenian Nicophemus. Quitting then the harbourless, dangerous, and ill-provided coast of Laconia, they sailed up the Saronic Gulf to the Isthmus of Corinth. Here they found the confederates--Corinthian, Bœotian, Athenian, etc.--carrying on war, with Corinth as their central post, against the Lacedæmonians at Sicyon. The line across the isthmus from Lechæum to Cenchreæ (the two ports of Corinth) was now made good by a defensive system of operations, so as to confine the Lacedæmonians within Peloponnesus; just as Athens, prior to her great losses in 446 B.C., while possessing both Megara and Pegæ, had been able to maintain the inland road midway between them, where it crosses the high and difficult crest of Mount Geranea, thus occupying the only three roads by which a Lacedæmonian army could march from the Isthmus of Corinth into Attica or Bœotia. Pharnabazus communicated in the most friendly manner with the allies, assured them of his strenuous support against Sparta, and left with them a considerable sum of money. The appearance of a Persian satrap with a Persian fleet, as master of the Peloponnesian Sea and the Saronic Gulf, was a phenomenon astounding to Grecian eyes. And if it was not equally offensive to Grecian sentiment, this was in itself a melancholy proof of the degree to which Panhellenic patriotism had been stifled by the Peloponnesian War and the Spartan empire. No Persian tiara had been seen near the Saronic Gulf since the battle of Salamis; nor could anything short of the intense personal wrath of Pharnabazus against the Lacedæmonians, and his desire to revenge upon them the damage inflicted by Dercyllidas and Agesilaus, have brought him now as far away from his own satrapy. It was this wrathful feeling of which Conon took advantage to procure from him a still more important boon. Since 404 B.C., a space of eleven years, Athens had continued without any walls round her seaport town Piræus, and without any Long Walls to connect her city with Piræus. To this state she had been condemned by the sentence of her enemies, in the full knowledge that she could have little trade--few ships either armed or mercantile--poor defence even against pirates, and no defence at all against aggression from the mistress of the sea. Conon now entreated Pharnabazus, who was about to go home, to leave the fleet under his command, and to permit him to use it in rebuilding the fortifications of Piræus as well as the Long Walls of Athens. While he engaged to maintain the fleet by contributions from the islands, he assured the satrap that no blow could be inflicted upon Sparta so destructive or so mortifying, as the renovation of Athens and Piræus with their complete and connected fortifications. Sparta would thus be deprived of the most important harvest which she had reaped from the long struggle of the Peloponnesian War. Indignant as he now was against the Lacedæmonians, Pharnabazus sympathised cordially with these plans, and on departing not only left the fleet under the command of Conon, but also furnished him with a considerable sum of money towards the expense of the fortifications. CONON REBUILDS THE LONG WALLS [Sidenote: [393 B.C.]] Conon betook himself to the work energetically and without delay. He had quitted Athens in 407 B.C., as one of the joint admirals nominated after the disgrace of Alcibiades. He had parted with his countrymen finally at the catastrophe of Ægospotami in 405 B.C., preserving the miserable fraction of eight or nine ships out of that noble fleet which otherwise would have passed entire into the hands of Lysander. He now returned, in 393 B.C., as a second Themistocles, the deliverer of his country, and the restorer of her lost strength and independence. All hands were set to work; carpenters and masons being hired with the funds furnished by Pharnabazus, to complete the fortifications as quickly as possible. The Bœotians and other neighbours lent their aid zealously as volunteers--the same who eleven years before had danced to the sound of joyful music when the former walls were demolished; so completely had the feelings of Greece altered since that period. By such hearty co-operation, the work was finished during the course of the present summer and autumn without any opposition; and Athens enjoyed again her fortified Piræus and harbour, with a pair of long walls, straight and parallel, joining it securely to the city. The Athenian people not only inscribed on a pillar a public vote gratefully recording the exploits of Conon, but also erected a statue to his honour. The importance of this event in reference to the future history of Athens was unspeakable. Though it did not restore to her either her former navy, or her former empire, it reconstituted her as a city not only self-determining but even partially ascendant. It reanimated her, if not into the Athens of Pericles, at least into that of Isocrates and Demosthenes: it imparted to her a second fill of strength, dignity, and commercial importance, during the half century destined to elapse before she was finally overwhelmed by the superior military force of Macedon. Those who recollect the extraordinary stratagem whereby Themistocles had contrived (eighty-five years before) to accomplish the fortification of Athens, in spite of the base but formidable jealousy of Sparta and her Peloponnesian allies, will be aware how much the consummation of the Themistoclean project had depended upon accident. Now, also, Conon in his restoration was favoured by unusual combinations such as no one could have predicted. So strangely did events run, that the energy, by which Dercyllidas preserved Abydos, brought upon Sparta, indirectly, the greater mischief of the new Cononian walls. It would have been better for Sparta that Pharnabazus should at once have recovered Abydos as well as the rest of his satrapy; in which case he would have had no wrongs remaining unavenged to incense him, and would have kept on his own side of the Ægean; feeding Conon with a modest squadron sufficient to keep the Lacedæmonian navy from again becoming formidable on the Asiatic side, but leaving the walls of Piræus (if we may borrow an expression of Plato) “to continue asleep in the bosom of the earth.” [Illustration: REMAINS OF A GREAT WALL AT MESSENE] The presence of Pharnabazus and Conon with their commanding force in the Saronic Gulf, and the liberality with which the former furnished pecuniary aid to the latter for rebuilding the full fortifications of Athens, as well as to the Corinthians for the prosecution of the war--seem to have given preponderance to the confederates over Sparta for that year. The plans of Conon were extensive. He was the first to organise, for the defence of Corinth, a mercenary force which was afterwards improved and conducted with greater efficiency by Iphicrates; and after he had finished the fortifications of Piræus with the Long Walls, he employed himself in showing his force among the islands, for the purpose of laying the foundations of renewed maritime power for Athens.[f] While this work was proceeding, the Corinthians, with the subsidy they had received, fitted out a squadron, with which their admiral Agathinus scoured the Corinthian Gulf. The Spartans sent Polemarchus with some galleys to oppose him: but their commander was soon after slain, and Pollis, who took his place, was compelled by a wound which he received in another engagement, to resign it to Herippidas. Herippidas seems to have driven the Corinthians from their station at Rhium: and Teleutias, who succeeded him, recovered the complete mastery of the gulf, and was thus enabled, as we have seen, to co-operate with Agesilaus at Lechæum. THE EMBASSY OF ANTALCIDAS [Sidenote: [393-390 B.C.]] But this partial success did not diminish the alarm with which the Spartan government viewed the operations of Conon, who was proceeding to restore the Athenian dominion on the coasts and in the islands of the Ægean. It perceived that it was necessary to change its policy with regard to the court of Persia, and for the present at least to drop the design of conquest in Asia, and to confine itself to the object of counteracting the efforts of the Athenians, and establishing its own supremacy among the European Greeks. And it did not despair of making the Persian court subservient to these ends. For this purpose Antalcidas, a dexterous politician of Lysander’s school, was sent to Tiribazus, who was now occupying the place of Tithraustes in Western Asia, to negotiate a peace. His mission awakened the apprehensions of the hostile confederacy; and envoys [including Conon] were sent from Athens, Bœotia, Corinth, and Argos, to defeat his attempts, and to support the interests of the allies at the satrap’s court. Antalcidas however made proposals highly agreeable to Tiribazus, and accompanied them with arguments which convinced the satrap that his master’s interest perfectly coincided with that of Sparta. He renounced all claim on the part of his government to the Greek cities in Asia, and was willing that they should remain subject to the king’s authority. For the islands, and the other towns, he asked nothing but independence. Thus, he observed, no motive for war between Greece and Persia would be left. The king could gain nothing by it, and would have no reason to fear either Athens or Sparta, so long as the other Greek states remained independent. Tiribazus was perfectly satisfied, but had not authority to close with these overtures, at least against the will of the states which were at present in alliance with his master; and they refused to accede to a treaty on these terms. But, though the satrap did not venture openly to enter into alliance with Sparta without his master’s consent, he did not scruple privately to supply Antalcidas with money for the purpose of raising a navy to carry on the war with the states which were still acknowledged as allies of Persia: and having drawn Conon to Sardis, he threw him into prison, on the pretext that he had abused his trust, and had employed the king’s forces for the aggrandisement of Athens. He then repaired to court to report his proceedings and to consult the royal pleasure. It was perhaps rather through some court intrigue, or vague suspicion, than a deliberate purpose of adopting a line of policy opposite to that of Tiribazus, that Artaxerxes detained him at court, and sent Struthas down to fill his place. Struthas had perhaps witnessed the Asiatic campaigns of Agesilaus, and could not all at once get rid of the impression that the Spartans were his master’s most formidable enemies. He therefore immediately made known his intention of siding with the Athenians and their allies. The Spartan government, perhaps too hastily, concluding that their prospect of amicable dealings with Persia was now quite closed, determined to renew hostilities in Asia, and sent Thimbron--apparently the same officer whom we have already seen commanding there, and who had been fined on his return to Sparta for misconduct--to invade the king’s territory. Struthas took advantage of his failings, and, one day that he had gone out at the head of a small party to attack some of the Persian cavalry who had been purposely thrown in his way, suddenly appeared with a superior force, slew him, and a flute-player named Thersander, the favourite companion of his convivial hours, and defeated the rest of his army, as it came up after him, with great slaughter. Diphridas was sent from Sparta to collect the scattered remains of his army, and to raise fresh troops, to defend the allied cities, and carry on the war with Struthas. Teleutias was ordered to sail to Asia with the twelve galleys which he had with him in the Corinthian Gulf, to supersede Ecdicus, and to prosecute the war, in Rhodes or elsewhere, as he found opportunity. His first adventure, after he had taken the command at Cnidus, illustrates the complicated relations and the unsettled state of Greek politics at this period. Teleutias, whose force had been raised, by some additions which it received at Samos, to seven-and-twenty galleys, on his way from Cnidus to Rhodes, fell in with a squadron of ten, sent by the Athenians to aid Evagoras, who had revolted from the king of Persia, their ally, and the enemy of Sparta, whose admiral nevertheless destroyed or captured the whole. [Sidenote: [390-388 B.C.]] The Athenians now thought it necessary to interpose in defence of their Rhodian friends, and sent Thrasybulus--the hero of Phyle--with forty galleys to check the operations of Teleutias. He thought that he might render more important services to the commonwealth in the north of the Ægean, and the Hellespont, where he would have no enemy to encounter on the sea. Sailing therefore first to the coast of Thrace, he composed the feud of the two Odrysian princes, Amadocus and Seuthes, and engaged them both in a treaty of alliance with Athens. He proceeded to Byzantium, and, throwing his weight into the scale of the democratical party, established its predominance, and with it that of the Athenian interest; and he was thus enabled to restore a main source of the Athenian revenue, the duty of a tenth on vessels coming out of the Euxine. Before he quitted the Bosporus, he also brought over Chalcedon to the Athenian alliance. Thrasybulus now reduced several of the Lesbian towns, and collected much plunder from the lands of those which refused to submit. He then prepared to return to Rhodes; but first sailed eastward to levy contributions on the southern coast of Asia. Here his career was abruptly terminated. He anchored in the Eurymedon near Aspendus, where he obtained a supply of money. But the Aspendians fell upon him by night, and killed him in his tent. Xenophon’s remark, that he died with the reputation of a very good man, may be admitted as sufficient proof that the great services he had rendered to his country were not his only claim to the esteem of his contemporaries, and that the suspicions excited against him were wholly unfounded. [Illustration: RUINS OF THE TEMPLE OF OLYMPIAN JOVE] The flourishing condition to which Thrasybulus had restored the affairs of Athens in the Hellespont, excited uneasiness at Sparta. Anaxibius obtained three galleys, and a grant of money sufficient to raise one thousand mercenaries. On his arrival in the Hellespont he waged a successful war with the neighbouring towns, subject to Pharnabazus, or allied to Athens, and did much damage to the Athenian commerce. The Athenians were at length induced to send Iphicrates, with eight galleys and about twelve hundred targeteers, mostly those who had served under him at Corinth, to counteract the movements of Anaxibius. Anaxibius was surprised by an ambush. He bade his men seek their safety in flight; for himself, he said, his part was to die there; and, calling for his shield, fought until he fell, with a few of his Spartan companions. The rest fled in disorder to Abydos with the loss of about 250 men. Notwithstanding the successes of the Athenians in the Hellespont the enemy found means of annoying and threatening them at home. They had hitherto maintained a peaceful intercourse with Ægina; but the Spartans now resolved to make use of the island for the purpose of infesting the coasts of Attica. Teleutias was soon after superseded by Hierax, the new Spartan admiral, and returned home. Hierax sailed to Rhodes, leaving Gorgopas, his vice-admiral, with twelve galleys at Ægina. The Athenians in the fort were soon reduced to greater straits than the Æginetans in the city; and, in the fifth month after their arrival, a strong squadron was sent out from Athens to carry them home. In the meanwhile the Spartan government had resumed its project of attaining its object by means of negotiation, and once more sent out Antalcidas, as the person whose influence with Tiribazus would open the readiest access to the Persian court, as admiral in the room of Hierax. Antalcidas was escorted to Ephesus by Gorgopas and his squadron, and on his arrival sent Gorgopas with ten galleys back to Ægina. The remainder of the fleet which joined him at Ephesus, he placed under the command of his lieutenant Nicolochus, while he himself proceeded on more important business to the court of Artaxerxes. Gorgopas on his return fell in with the Athenian squadron under Eunomus, and was chased by him into the port of Ægina, where he arrived a little before sunset. Eunomus sailed away soon after dark, with a light in the stern of his galley, to keep his squadron together. Gorgopas, whose men in the meanwhile had landed and refreshed themselves, now embarked again, and pushed across the gulf in the enemy’s wake, guided by his light, with every precaution for suppressing or weakening the usual sounds of galleys in motion. At Cape Zoster, as the Athenians were landing, the silence of the night was broken by the sound of the trumpet, and after a short engagement by moonlight, Gorgopas captured four of their galleys; the rest made their escape into Piræus. But not long after, Chabrias, having been sent with a squadron of ten galleys and eight hundred targeteers to the aid of Evagoras, landed by night on Ægina, and posted his targeteers in an ambush. The next day, according to a preconcerted plan, a body of heavy-armed infantry which had come over with him under the command of Demænetus, advanced into the interior of the island. Gorgopas marched to meet them with all the forces he could muster, and passing by the ambuscade was routed and fell in the action, with some other Spartans and between three and four hundred of the other troops. By this victory the Attic commerce was for a time freed from annoyance; for though Eteonicus still remained in Ægina, he had no money to pay the seamen, and therefore could exert no authority. [Sidenote: [388-387 B.C.]] In this emergency Teleutias was sent to take the command. His arrival was hailed with delight by the men, who had already served under him, and expected an immediate supply of pay. He however called them together, and informed them that he had brought no money with him, and that they had no resource to look to for the relief of their necessities, but their own activity and courage. It was best that they should not depend for subsistence upon the favour either of Greek or barbarian, but should provide for themselves at the enemy’s expense. The men expressed entire confidence in his guidance, and promised to obey all his commands. That very night, after they had ended their evening meal, he ordered them to embark with a day’s provision, and with twelve galleys crossed the gulf towards Piræus. When they were within about half a mile of the harbour, they rested till daybreak, and then sailed in. He gave orders to strike none but the ships of war which might be lying in the harbour, to capture as many merchant vessels as could be conveniently taken in tow, and to carry away as many prisoners as could be taken from the rest. Not only were these orders executed with alacrity and success, but some of his men, landing on the quay, seized some of the merchants and shipowners who were assembled there, and hurried them on board. While the military force of Athens marched down to the relief of Piræus, which was supposed to have been taken, he made his retreat from the harbour, sent three or four of his galleys with the prizes to Ægina, and with the rest proceeded along the coast as far as Sunium. He made the more captures on his way, as his squadron, having been seen to issue from the port of Athens, was believed to be friendly. At Sunium he found a number of vessels laden with corn, and other valuable cargoes, with which he sailed away to Ægina. The produce of this adventure yielded a month’s pay to the men, raised their spirits, and increased their devotion for their commander, who continued to employ them in this predatory warfare: the only kind to which his small force was adequate. The Athenians however still retained the ascendency in the Hellespont, where Nicolochus, who after the departure of Antalcidas had sailed northward with five-and-twenty galleys, was blockaded at Abydos by an Athenian squadron of two and thirty, which was stationed on the opposite coast of the Chersonesus, under the command of Diotimus and Iphicrates. But the aspect of affairs was completely changed by the arrival of Antalcidas, who returned in 387 with Tiribazus from the Persian court, where he had been treated with marks of distinguished favour by Artaxerxes, and had fully succeeded in the main object of his mission, having prevailed on the king to aid Sparta in carrying on the war, until the Athenians and their allies should accept a peace to be dictated in the king’s name on terms previously arranged between him and the Spartan ambassador. Being informed of the situation of Nicolochus, he proceeded by land to Abydos, and took the command of the blockaded squadron, with which he sailed out in the night. Additions raised his fleet to eighty sail, and gave him the complete command of the sea, so that he was enabled to divert the commerce of the Euxine from Athens into the ports of the allies of Sparta. The Athenians now saw themselves not only exposed to constant annoyance from Ægina, but in danger of falling again under the power of the enemy, and losing all the benefit of Conon’s victory. They were therefore heartily desirous of an honourable peace. Most of the other states were probably still more anxious for the termination of a contest from which they could expect no advantage. When therefore Tiribazus, in his master’s name, summoned a congress of deputies to listen to the proposals which he was commissioned to announce, all the belligerents readily sent their ministers to attend it. In the presence of this assembly Tiribazus, having shown the royal seal, read his master’s decree, which ran in the following imperial style: “King Artaxerxes thinks it right that the Greek cities in Asia, and the islands of Clazomenæ and Cyprus, should belong to himself; but that all the other Greek cities, both small and great, should be left independent, with the exception of Lemnos, Imbros, and Scyros, and that these should as of old belong to the Athenians. If any state refuse to accept this peace, I will make war against it, with those who consent to these terms, by land and by sea, with ships and with money.” THE KING’S PEACE [Sidenote: [387-386 B.C.]] The treaty founded on these conditions was ratified by all the parties almost without opposition. A little delay arose from the Thebans, who were reluctant to part with the sovereignty they had hitherto exercised over many of the Bœotian towns, and wished, for the sake of at least retaining their pretensions, to ratify in the name of all the other Bœotians. But Agesilaus, who was charged to receive the oath of their ministers, refused to accept it in this form, and required them strictly to conform to the Persian ordinance, and expressly to acknowledge the independence of all other states. One impediment to the general peace still remained. The governments of Corinth and Argos did not consider themselves bound by the treaty to alter the relations which had hitherto subsisted between them; and it was only when Agesilaus threatened them with war, that they consented, the one to dismiss, and the other to withdraw, the Argive garrison from Corinth. Its departure was attended by an immediate reaction in the state of the Corinthian parties. The authors of the massacre, knowing themselves to be generally odious to their fellow citizens, thought themselves no longer safe at home, and left the city. Most of them found refuge at Athens, where they met with a much more honourable reception than they deserved. The exiles of the opposite faction were recalled; and their return dissolved the union with Argos, and restored the influence of Sparta, and the oligarchical institutions. This treaty, which was long celebrated under the name of the Peace of Antalcidas, was undoubtedly a masterpiece of policy, nor does it appear to deserve the censure which it incurred from the Attic orators and from Plutarch, and which has been repeated by some modern writers, as a breach of political morality. Sparta in her transactions with Persia during the Peloponnesian War, had more than once acknowledged the title of the Persian king to the dominion of the Asiatic Greeks; she had never pledged herself to maintain their independence; and even if she had done so, the revival of the maritime power of Athens, and its union with that of Persia, would have afforded a fair plea for receding from an engagement which she was no longer able to fulfil. The clause in favour of Athens was perhaps only designed to excite jealousy and discord between Athens and the hated Bœotians. It has been attributed to a deeper policy; it has been considered as a device, by which Sparta reserved a pretext for eluding the conditions of the treaty which she rigorously enforced in the case of other states. But it is doubtful whether the exception expressly made concerning the three islands which Athens was allowed to retain, could have been needed, or if needful could have availed, as a colour under which Sparta, while she stripped Thebes of her sovereignty in Bœotia, might keep possession of Messenia and the subject districts of Laconia. Sparta did not permit a question to be raised on this point. She was constituted the interpreter of the treaty; she expounded it by the rule, not of reason, but of might, with the sword in hand, and the power of Persia at her back.[e] This momentous treaty, which is sometimes called the Peace of Antalcidas after its chief Grecian agent, is nowadays more commonly called the King’s Peace, and wisely, since it was the king who chiefly profited by it. Thirlwall, who can always be relied upon to take an impartial view of the question, says of it: “And thus the Peace of Antalcidas, which professed to establish the independence of the Greek states, subjected them more than ever to the will of one. It was not in this respect only that appearances were contrary to the real state of things. The position of Sparta, though seemingly strong, was artificial and precarious; while the majestic attitude in which the Persian king dictated terms to Greece, disguised a profound consciousness, that his throne subsisted only by sufferance, and that its best security was the disunion of the people with whom he assumed so lordly an air.” Niebuhr, to whom the Spartans were almost always hypocrites, has this to say: “Painful as this peace was to the feelings of the Greeks, who were obliged to leave the dominion over their countrymen to barbarians, yet the hypocrisy of the Spartans, who, by this peace, allowed the Persians to interfere in the internal affairs of Greece, was worse.” Grote, whose history is a glowing brief for Athens, the type of democracy, as against Sparta, the type of oligarchy, cannot be expected to approve of an agreement leading to such degradation for the Athenians, as well as for all the Greek world. He says: “The peace or convention, which bears the name of Antalcidas, was an incident of serious and mournful import in Grecian history. Its true character cannot be better described than in a brief remark and reply which we find cited in Plutarch. ‘Alas, for Hellas (observed some one to Agesilaus) when we see our Laconians _medising_!’ ‘Nay (replied the Spartan king), say rather the Medes _laconising_.’ These two propositions do not exclude each other. Both were perfectly true. The convention emanated from a separate partnership between Spartan and Persian interests. It was solicited by the Spartan Antalcidas, and propounded by him to Tiribazus on the express ground that it was exactly calculated to meet the Persian king’s purposes and wishes, as we learn even from the philo-Laconian Xenophon. While Sparta and Persia were both great gainers, no other Grecian state gained anything as the convention was originally framed.” George W. Cox, in his _General History of Greece_, recognises in the treaty a humiliation for Sparta as well as for the rest of Greece, since the peace was not drawn up in the form of an agreement, but rather forced upon Greece by the edict of Persia. It was indeed a fiat “sent down from Susa,” like another royal decree to the subjects whom the Persian king looked down upon with oriental disdain. Cox writes thus fervidly: “The Persian king chose to regard the acceptance of the peace by the Spartans as an act of submission not less significant than the offering of earth and water. In the disgrace which it involved the one was as ignominious as the other; but Sparta had now not even the poor excuse which long ago she had put forward for calling in the aid of the barbarian. She was no longer struggling for self-preservation. In short, by Sparta the Peace of Antalcidas was adopted with the settled resolution to divide and govern; and all of those of her acts, which might seem at first sight to have a different meaning, carry out in every instance this golden rule of despotism. It was the curse of the Hellenic race, and the ruin ultimately of Sparta itself, that this maxim flattered an instinct which they had cherished with blind obstinacy, until it became their bane. But for Sparta, the consolidation of the Athenian empire would long ago have restrained this self-isolating sentiment within its proper limits. In theory the Spartans by enforcing the Peace of Antalcidas restored to the several Greek states the absolute power of managing their own affairs, and of making war upon one another. In practice Sparta was resolved that their armies should move only at her dictation, that into her treasury should flow the tribute, the gathering of which was denounced as the worst crime of imperial Athens, and that in the government of the oligarchical factions she should have the strongest material guarantee for the absolute submission of the Greek cities. To secure this result the Hellenic states of Lesser Asia were abandoned to the tender mercies of Persian tax-gatherers, and left to feel the full bitterness of the slavery from which Athens had rescued them some ninety years ago.” An outcome which none could have foreseen from the acceptance of this humiliating title-deed to Grecian independence was the sudden and rocket-like rise of the city of Thebes, a city which had heretofore been a second-or third-rate town chiefly distinguished for being on the wrong side of Hellenic questions. Thebes is now about to break forth into flame with a fire-brand named Epaminondas, one of the noblest and most splendid names in all the glitter of Grecian history.[a] FOOTNOTES [9] [This statement of Xenophon is, according to Grote, either a mis-reading or a wild exaggeration. Diodorus says that the Spartans lost 1100; the allies 2800.] [10] [On this point Bury says: “Though the battle of Coronea, like the battle of Corinth, was a technical victory for the Spartans, history must here again offer her congratulations to the side which was superficially defeated.… It was a great moral encouragement to Thebes for future warfare with Lacedæmon.”] [Illustration] [Illustration: GREEK PINS AND BUCKLE (In the British Museum)] CHAPTER XLIV. THE RISE OF THEBES The brilliant expansion of the power of Sparta after the King’s Peace is intimately connected with the name of Agesilaus. Therefore in order rightly to understand the significance and the results of the Peace of Antalcidas, we must first form some idea of the tendencies and political position of this eminent man. Nothing but a just appreciation of his personality will suffice to keep us from tossing rudderless between the Scylla and Charybdis of diametrically opposite views of the object of the peace, and of Sparta’s policy at that period. Agesilaus was from the outset the typical representative of the Sparta of his time. All his thoughts and energies had their root in his own state alone, and to exalt this state to the position of the first power in the world, to gain for it the hegemony of Hellenic affairs, was his object, as it was the object of the whole contemporary policy of Sparta. To this end he laboured with admirable consistency through all his long life, from his first campaign in Asia to his expedition into Egypt, and all his acts, whether as a victorious monarch or an adventurous leader of mercenaries, were directed to one end--to vindicate the authority of Sparta. And when this end could not be attained by force of arms he was equal to compassing it by diplomatic moves. Hence it is certain that the Peace of Antalcidas was not concluded without his knowledge and consent, even if circumstances rendered it desirable for him to keep in the background during the negotiations in Asia. Lacedæmon found herself incapable of maintaining by mere force of arms the position which had devolved upon her through the events of the Peloponnesian War, and if Sparta were not to abdicate the hegemony of Greece she must perforce try to conclude an advantageous peace and an alliance with Persia. This project was favoured by the ill-timed attempts of Athens to regain her maritime supremacy, and the Spartans, rightly gauging the situation, associated with these attempts their conciliatory negotiations with Persia. That this step, which closed to him henceforth his career of glory in Asia, was an easy one for Agesilaus to take, is unlikely; it was a political necessity, the inevitable consequence of the lines along which Greek policy had developed for the last thirty years. Persia and Sparta were alike interested in preventing the revival of the sea power of Athens, and both needed peace to regain sway in their own dominions. This was the natural basis of the negotiations. The Great King was appointed supreme arbitrator in the affairs of Greece, and the possession of the Greek cities in Asia Minor was guaranteed to him. The Spartans had never indulged in Panhellenistic sentiments. Their whole political organisation and development made it almost impossible for the fate of their kindred in Asia to rouse any interest in their minds. When once their interests in Ionia were lost by the fortune of war, the documentary recognition of the fact could have roused no scruple in the breast of any true Spartan. And although it was these paragraphs of the peace which stirred the profoundest indignation in such men as Plato and Demosthenes, in the rest of Greece the time of national enthusiasm had gone by. Even in Athens the masses had unlearned their ancient hatred of Persia since they had been indebted to the succour of the Great King for the only bright spot in troublous times of war, and statesmen could not blind themselves to the fact that the political sins of Greece since the year 411, and the constant appeal to Persia for support and mediation which had become habitual since then, had been inexorably conducting her to this end. The second main paragraph dealt with the internal affairs of Greece. Every state, great or small, was to become autonomous. If the first article contained an important concession to the Great King, this, which decreed the autonomy, was made primarily with a view to the advantage of Sparta. It could have no aim but one, to assert the hegemony of Sparta in Greece. This article, which had so enticing a sound in Greek ears, was the death-warrant of the growing power of the Athenian maritime confederacy, of the supremacy of Thebes in Bœotia, of the union of Argos and Corinth; it destroyed in the germ every power that might have imperilled the position of Sparta. Her own dominion in the Peloponnesus was not compromised by the proclamation of liberty, as her allies were already autonomous in name, while the authority of the hostile coalition was shattered at a blow. Thus the victor of Cnidus shared the spoils with the vanquished foe who had known so well how to avail himself of the right moment for proving an indispensable ally. As suzerain of Hellas, Artaxerxes, who could not suppress the rebels in his own country, dictates peace there, a peace which proclaimed liberty to the states but was nevertheless meant from the outset to enslave them, and Sparta lets herself be appointed to execute the compact which is to procure anew for her the supremacy of Greece. It was not the end of her projects but the beginning. [Sidenote: [387-386 B.C.]] A glance at the history of the succeeding years shows how she pursued these projects. First of all, the Spartans turned their attention to the internal affairs of the Peloponnesus. The first thing they had to do was to vindicate their authority at home. During the long years of war the old ties between Sparta and her allies had grown looser; here and there the democratic element had taken the helm; there had been attempts to evade the obligation of military service; there had been open rejoicing at Sparta’s ill-success. The situation called for energetic measures. We have already seen how a beginning was made with Corinth during the peace negotiations in Sparta. By a threat of armed invasion the Argive garrison was forced to withdraw and the alliance between the two states was dissolved; the Corinthian democrats left the city, the exiles were recalled, and Corinth, more closely linked with Lacedæmon than ever, again became her bulwark against enemies from without. MANTINEA CRUSHED The next step was to juggle the government of the other democratic states back into the hands of the oligarchy. Mantinea was the first to suffer. This city had always been an offence in the eyes of Sparta. The _synoicismus_[11] and the fortification of Mantinea had taken place at the instigation of Argos after the Persian wars, and friendship towards Sparta was hardly likely to have been the leading motive for these proceedings. After the Peace of Nicias the city had joined the league against Sparta founded by Argos, and had taken an active part in the war. The unfavourable issue of the campaign obliged Mantinea to submit to Sparta once more and to conclude peace for thirty years, but nevertheless the democratic government remained in power, and the antagonism against Sparta persisted after, as before. The people made a parade of their animosity, treated the obligation of military service with neglect; and after the defeat of the _mora_ on the isthmus Agesilaus had to pass the city under cover of fog and darkness in order to elude the scorn and malicious satisfaction of the inhabitants. [Sidenote: [386-385 B.C.]] Now the day of reckoning had come. Spartan ambassadors came to Mantinea, bringing a multitude of complaints, together with the demand for the demolition of the walls about the city. This demand being met by a refusal, Sparta declared war. Agesilaus begged to be excused from the chief command of the army, as the Mantineans had rendered his father great services during the Messenian War. Agesipolis marched against Mantinea and endeavoured to force the people into compliance by devastating their territory. When this expedient proved fruitless he laid siege to the city. The inhabitants made an obstinate defence, but they were obliged to surrender unconditionally after Agesipolis had dammed the river Ophis, which flowed through the town, and thus caused an inundation which brought about the fall of its walls of unbaked brick. By the intercession of Pausanias, who was living in exile at Tegea, the leaders of the people and the partisans of democracy, sixty in number, were allowed to withdraw in safety, a portion of the population was allowed to inhabit Mantinea as an unfortified place, and the remainder was obliged to settle in four distinct unprotected villages. To each of these villages a Spartan xenagos was appointed. Xenophon adds that the Mantineans were at first indignant at being removed, but that they afterwards expressed their satisfaction at what had been done, as under an aristocratic government they could lead a quiet life near their estates and free from troublesome demagogues. This is a reproduction of the Spartan and oligarchic view of the matter. [Illustration: GREEK WEAPONS] In both ancient and modern times the treatment meted out to Mantinea has invariably been branded as an act of most brutal and barbarous violence and arbitrary cruelty, the outcome of the policy of Agesilaus. In this general and (to a certain extent) just censure of the ruler of the Spartan state at the time, one point has been overlooked. In a democratic constitution the Spartans could see nothing but a reign of revolutionary terrorism which oppressed the peaceful and sober part of the community, their own friends and adherents. To help the latter, to put them in power again, they held to be the duty of the sovereign state. Spartan policy was sure of its aims, and in its consistency lies the secret of Sparta’s superiority at this period. And if we are right in assuming that a Spartan must have ceased to be a Spartan before he could conceive otherwise of the state of affairs, there is no justification for heaping personal abuse and scandalous imputations upon a writer who reflects the opinions of his circle. [Sidenote: [385-383 B.C.]] The punishment of Mantinea produced a profound effect upon the other Peloponnesian cities. With high hopes of an equally energetic interference on their behalf the aristocratic exiles from Phlius immediately turned to Sparta with the entreaty that the Spartans would intercede for their restoration to their homes. A bare admonition from the ephors to the municipal authorities to receive back the friends they had cast out for no sufficient reason, was enough to evoke a decree by which the sentence of banishment was repealed and the exiles were promised the restoration of their property. The spirit of resistance had been broken by the fate of Mantinea. The Spartans next turned their attention to Bœotia. Although the Bœotian league, not being based on the principle of autonomy, had been broken up by the second paragraph of the peace, they felt the need of taking precautions against any attempt on the part of Thebes--the city which they regarded as the author of the whole ill-starred war and which had defied them to the last to re-establish its authority. Hence, as a first step, a Spartan garrison was retained in the friendly city of Orchomenos, and both Thespiæ and Tanagra were induced to throw in their lot with Sparta. But the most telling stroke at Thebes was the restoration of Platæa. For one thing, the Thebans were thereby deprived of the usufruct of Platæan territory, and for another, the newly founded city, being of course wholly dependent upon Sparta, afforded an excellent base for attack upon Thebes itself. Here again we see the relentless and energetic policy of Sparta in action. THE OLYNTHIAN WAR [Sidenote: [383 B.C.]] More serious complications in Greek affairs soon gave the Spartans their opportunity for showing themselves masters of Hellas. In the spring of 383 ambassadors from the cities of Apollonia and Acanthus presented themselves in Sparta to beg for support against the increasing power of the Olyntho-Chalcidian league. Their petition was seconded by deputies from Amyntas, king of Macedonia, who felt the security of his dominions imperilled by the encroachments of Olynthus. The Olynthians strove more and more vigorously to assert the authority of the league. They had succeeded in persuading nearly all the cities of the Chalcidice to join their confederacy; they had pushed forward towards Macedonia, and had even brought Pella over to their interests. The league was now in a position to hold the menace of war over any cities which refused adherence, and to meditate far-reaching enterprises. By an agreement with Athens and Thebes it hoped to secure an influence upon middle Greece. By this energetic and well-considered centralisation a federal state was created, admirably calculated to serve as a bulwark of the power of Hellas against Thrace, and as a fresh starting-point for the civilisation of the barbarous North. As we look back at the lines along which the history of Greece developed, we are inevitably forced upon the conclusion that nothing but strict union, the formation of closely confederated states, could have checked the rapid process of political decay. This conviction lies at the root of the liberal recognition and sympathy which the majority of modern scholars have accorded to the efforts of the Olynthian league. Whether the brilliant visions of the future which Grote, in particular, sketches for the league would ever have been realised, even if it had not fallen upon the days of Sparta’s arbitrary dominion, remains an open question. Centralisation and unification were repugnant to the Greek mind, and every attempt in that direction was bound to go to wreck on the fanatical love of autonomy among the Greek states. The appeal of Apollonia and Acanthus, which wished to retain their ancient constitution, and the simultaneous action of the oppressed Amyntas, offered Sparta the desired opportunity for attacking the Chalcidic federation. Doubtless the sea power of Olynthus and the steady expansion of the league had long since attracted general attention there, and had been the subject of anxious reflection. The possibility that this league might grow more powerful still and attain an authoritative position in middle Greece also had to be guarded against at all risks. The policy of Sparta rendered it imperative that every considerable development of power in other states should be repressed. The war against the Olynthians was determined upon, and, by the desire of the ambassadors, Eudamidas was immediately despatched with such forces as could be equipped in haste. THE SURPRISE OF THEBES [Sidenote: [383-380 B.C.]] His brother Phœbidas was to follow with the remainder of the troops destined for the campaign in Thrace as soon as the levies were completed, a process which was probably rendered more lengthy by the fact that the new military system was now brought into use for the first time. By the end of summer, 383, Phœbidas was ready to start. He took his way past Thebes. There, as Xenophon tells, party quarrels had reached an extreme point. The office of polemarch was held by Leontiades and Ismenias, who were deadly enemies, each being the leader of a distinct body of partisans. For the moment the anti-Laconian party was in the ascendant. A decree had been promulgated that no man should be allowed to enlist for the campaign against Olynthus. When Phœbidas appeared before the walls of the city, Leontiades, whose family had always maintained close relations with Sparta, endeavoured to gain his favour by every kind of service, and then persuaded the vain and ambitious general to attempt a coup-de-main against the Cadmea. By this means he was to bring the adherents of Sparta into power and secure the active assistance of Thebes in the Olynthian War. Phœbidas fell in with the proposed plot, and the day of the feast of the Thesmophoria was appointed for its execution. On that day the women of the city celebrated by themselves a festival in the ancient temple of Demeter on the Cadmea. Phœbidas was to make a feint of striking camp and setting out on his march northwards. While the council was assembled in a hall in the market-place and the heat of noon-day kept the rest of the population indoors, Leontiades galloped after the departing general, led him unobserved up to the citadel, and opened the gates to him. He then hied to the council, announced what had taken place, and had Ismenias arrested as a seditious person. The leaders and adherents of the opposition, to the number of three hundred, were obliged to flee for their lives to Athens. The occupation of the Cadmea was a political necessity, the logical consequence of the efforts of Sparta to secure the hegemony. The experiences of the last war had not been suffered in vain. While Agesilaus was pursuing his victorious career in Asia a coalition against Sparta had been formed in Greece at the instigation of Persia, and Thebes had shown herself most zealous in promoting this anti-Spartan combination which was so grave a menace to the existence of Lacedæmon. This time Sparta was once more undertaking a war on the confines of Greece; if fortune were adverse, if a battle were lost, she had no guarantee against the possibility--the probability even--that hostile Thebes, still barely subdued, might revolt again, bar the way of retreat against the Spartan army, and throw the most serious obstacles in the way of reinforcements. “The Cadmea was the decisive point for the security of the line of march,” says Curtius. If a prolonged war were to be waged in the distant north it was essential that this position should be in friendly hands. And the only way of attaining this object was to juggle the reins of government into the hands of the oligarchical party in Thebes and to garrison the citadel with Spartan hoplites for their protection. The success of the expedient proves how well worth while it had been for Phœbidas to take the circuitous route. This act of violence, the surprise of the Theban citadel in time of peace, called forth a storm of indignation throughout the whole of Greece. Even in Sparta itself a clamour of popular displeasure arose against Phœbidas, because (as Xenophon adds) he had acted without due warrant or command. Apparently the Spartan government found it expedient to cast the odium of the proceeding upon Phœbidas, and therefore, in spite of Xenophon’s silence on the subject, there is probably some truth in the story that he was deposed from his command and condemned to pay an exorbitant fine. The wrath of Greece may well have been the reason for this mock sentence. The payment of the fine was never exacted, and in the following year he held the office of a Spartan harmost in Bœotia. For the rest, the remonstrances of Leontiades and Agesilaus, the latter of whom openly maintained that the only point to be considered in judging the case was whether the transgression of Phœbidas were profitable to the state or not, quickly persuaded the Spartans of the propriety and necessity of the coup-de-main. The citadel was not evacuated, and legal proceedings were taken against Ismenias in respect of the league. A solemn tribunal was called together in Thebes, consisting of three Spartan commissioners and a deputy from every town of the league, to pass judgment upon the crimes of Ismenias. He was condemned to death. The most repulsive feature of this judicial murder, which was merely an act of vengeance upon the whilom leader of the anti-Spartan coalition, is the farce of a tribunal which was supposed to represent national ideas and interests. The road to Thrace was now safe, and the war against Olynthus was prosecuted with the utmost vigour. It was probably in the spring of 382 that Teleutias, brother of Agesilaus, marched against the city with a large army. He had made up the number of his forces in Thebes, and had received auxiliary contingents from Amyntas and from Derdas, prince of Elimea. This was the beginning of a fierce and prolonged struggle. After some successes which allowed him to press forward to Olynthus itself, devastating the country as he went, he fell in a hotly contested battle, and his death was the signal for a general flight. His whole army was swept away and annihilated. With amazing perseverance the Spartans continued the war; in the spring of 380 another huge army was equipped and the leadership entrusted to the young king, Agesipolis. He was fortunate in battle, but succumbed to a violent fever the same summer. It was left for Polybiades, his successor in the command, to force the starving city, cut off from access to the sea and robbed of its harvests by the prolonged and desolating war, into surrender. In the year 379 the league was dissolved and the proud city compelled to render military service to the Spartans; the mighty chief city of the Chalcidice became a humble member of the Lacedæmonian alliance. [Sidenote: [380-379 B.C.]] Meanwhile the Peloponnesus itself had become the scene of a fresh struggle. It has already been mentioned that the exiled aristocrats from Phlius had been allowed to return at the request of Sparta and had been promised the restoration of their property. But here, as everywhere, the attempts at expropriation met with almost insurmountable obstacles. There may have been a lack of good will to push on the proceedings, since it is probable that in many cases the judges themselves were in possession of the estates of the exiles. But in the beginning, at least, there seems to have been no excessive difficulty or delay in giving compensation, and we hear that, in the campaign of Agesipolis, the Phliasians distinguished themselves as zealous allies of Sparta by the liberality and promptitude of their contributions. After the departure of Agesipolis, as Xenophon relates, the Phliasians hoping to be quit of Spartan intervention, neglected the settlement of the chaotic claims. The returning aristocrats, finding their demands disregarded by an unbiassed court of arbitration, turned with their grievances to Sparta. The authorities of their own city having punished them for this arbitrary proceeding, the ephors, persuaded by exiles and by Agesilaus, the fast friend of the latter, determined upon a campaign against Phlius. The Phliasians sued for peace, but naturally could not accede to the demand of Agesilaus for an unconditional surrender of their citadel. A tedious siege then began, during which Agesilaus found himself obliged to have recourse to every kind of artifice to allay the wrath of the Lacedæmonians and their allies at making enemies of the large population of the Asopus valley for the sake of a few oligarchs. It was the first note of that discord among the Peloponnesian allies which was destined to exercise such a paralysing effect upon the future military undertakings of the Lacedæmonians. Thanks to the valiant defence of Delphion, to whom Xenophon does not refuse his due meed of praise, the city held out twice as long as had been expected. At last, in the year 379, the lack of provisions constrained the inhabitants to treat for peace, and, unwisely ignoring Agesilaus, they applied direct to Sparta. Sparta committed the sole decision to the king, and the punishment in store for Phlius was naturally not the less severe for the attempt to set Agesilaus aside. A commission was appointed, consisting of fifty oligarchs and fifty of the citizens, and they were empowered to decide the question which of the inhabitants should remain alive and which should not. The further duty of elaborating a constitution was also assigned to them. To safeguard the new order of things a Lacedæmonian garrison was left provisionally in the acropolis. Thus in Phlius, as in Olynthus, Sparta had won the victory. At this point both Xenophon and Diodorus, with a view to providing a more striking background for subsequent events, give a summary of the expansion of the power and dominion of Sparta up to this time. And truly, from the Peace of Antalcidas to the subjugation of Olynthus the history of Greece is nothing but a history of the extension of Spartan authority. Allied with the king of Persia, the tyrant of Syracuse, and the king of Macedonia, the will of Sparta was “irresistible from the cliffs of Taygetus to Athos.” The autonomy-paragraph had broken up all anti-Spartan coalitions. In Corinth, the key of the Peloponnesus, oligarchy was restored, Bœotia had become a vassal of Sparta, the menacing Olynthian league had been annihilated, and the ruins of Mantinea and the sanguinary tribunals at Phlius showed what punishment Sparta was prepared to mete out to any attempt at mutiny or disobedience. The Spartan harmosts with their garrisons commanded the citadels everywhere, and under their protection oligarchic rulers held the populace in fetters. In the time of Lysander, indeed, the Spartan dominions had been more extensive, but Sparta had never borne sway in Hellas with more authority or less restraint. Athens might strive with unflagging perseverance to establish an ascendency at sea; she might conclude an alliance with Chios directly after the Peace of the King, an alliance which was the precursor of the maritime confederacy presently to be revived; but how insignificant were such things as opposed to the dominant position of Sparta, now at the zenith of her glory! And for the fact that her will and her word were law in Greece, Sparta was mainly indebted to the steady and consistent policy of Agesilaus. The gray-haired monarch might well look with pride upon the object he had attained. He had reared a mighty structure: though it had been built by harshness and arbitrary power and welded together with blood and cruelty, it is none the less a moving spectacle to see how, before the eyes of its founder, stone after stone was cast down, till nothing but a vast expanse of ruins remained to bear witness to its former greatness.[b] FATE OF EVAGORAS AND THE ASIATIC GREEKS [Sidenote: [394-380 B.C.]] During the first years of his reign, Evagoras doubtless paid his tribute regularly, and took no steps calculated to offend the Persian king. But as his power increased, his ambition increased also. We find him towards the year 390 B.C., engaged in a struggle not merely with the Persian king, but with Amathus and Citium in his own island, and with the great Phœnician cities on the mainland. By what steps, or at what precise period, this war began, we cannot determine. At the time of the battle of Cnidus (394 B.C.) Evagoras not only paid his tribute, but was mainly instrumental in getting the Persian fleet placed under Conon to act against the Lacedæmonians, himself serving aboard. It was in fact (if we may believe Isocrates) to the extraordinary energy, ability, and power displayed by him on that occasion in the service of Artaxerxes himself, that the jealousy and alarm of the latter against him are to be ascribed. Without any provocation, and at the very moment when he was profiting by the zealous services of Evagoras, the Great King treacherously began to manœuvre against him and forced him into the war in self-defence. Evagoras accepted the challenge, in spite of the disparity of strength, with such courage and efficiency, that he at first gained marked successes. Seconded by his son Pnytagoras, he not only worsted and humbled Amathus, Citium, and Soli, which cities, under the prince Agyris, adhered to Artaxerxes, but he also equipped a large fleet, attacked the Phœnicians on the mainland with so much vigour as even to take the great city of Tyre; prevailing, moreover, upon some of the Cilician towns to declare against the Persians. He received powerful aid from Acoris, the native and independent king in Egypt, as well as from Chabrias and the force sent out by the Athenians. Beginning apparently about 390 B.C., the war against Evagoras lasted something more than ten years, costing the Persians great efforts and an immense expenditure of money. Twice did Athens send a squadron to his assistance, from gratitude for his long protection to Conon and his energetic efforts before in the battle of Cnidus--though she thereby ran every risk of making the Persians her enemies. [Sidenote: [380-374 B.C.]] The satrap Tiribazus saw that so long as he had on his hands a war in Greece, it was impossible for him to concentrate his force against the prince of Salamis and the Egyptians. Hence, in part, the extraordinary effort made by the Persians to dictate, in conjunction with Sparta, the Peace of Antalcidas, and to get together such a fleet in Ionia as should overawe Athens and Thebes into submission. It was one of the conditions of that peace that Evagoras should be abandoned; the whole island of Cyprus being acknowledged as belonging to the Persian king. Though thus cut off from Athens, and reduced to no other Grecian aid than such mercenaries as he could pay, Evagoras was still assisted by Acoris of Egypt, and even by Hecatomnus, prince of Caria, with a secret present of money. But the Peace of Antalcidas being now executed in Asia, the Persian satraps were completely masters of the Grecian cities on the Asiatic seaboard, and were enabled to convey round to Cilicia and Cyprus not only their own fleet from Ionia, but also additional contingents from these very Grecian cities. Evagoras defended himself with unshaken resolution, still sustained by aid from Acoris in Egypt; while Tyre and several towns in Cilicia also continued in revolt against Artaxerxes; so that the efforts of the Persians were distracted, and the war was not concluded until ten years after its commencement. It cost them on the whole (if we may believe Isocrates) 15,000 talents in money [£3,000,000 or $15,000,000], and such severe losses in men, that Tiribazus acceded to the propositions of Evagoras for peace, consenting to leave him in full possession of Salamis, under payment of a stipulated tribute. [Illustration: STATUE OF MINERVA IN A RUINED TEMPLE AT ATHENS] It was seemingly not very long after the peace, that a Salaminian named Nicoreon formed a conspiracy against his life and dominion, but was detected, by a singular accident, before the moment of execution, and forced to seek safety in flight. He left behind him a youthful daughter in his harem, under the care of a eunuch (a Greek, born in Elis) named Thrasydæus; who, full of vindictive sympathy in his master’s cause, made known the beauty of the young lady both to Evagoras himself and to Pnytagoras, the most distinguished of his sons, partner in the gallant defence of Salamis against the Persians. Both of them were tempted, each unknown to the other, to make a secret assignation for being conducted to her chamber by the eunuch: both of them were there assassinated by his hand. Thus perished a Greek of pre-eminent vigour and intelligence, remarkably free from the vices usual in Grecian despots, and forming a strong contrast in this respect with his contemporary Dionysius, whose military energy is so deeply stained by crime and violence. Nicocles, the son of Evagoras, reigned at Salamis after him, and showed much regard, accompanied by munificent presents, to the Athenian Isocrates; who compliments him as a pacific and well-disposed prince, attached to Greek pursuits and arts, conversant by personal study with Greek philosophy, and above all, copying his father in that just dealing and absence of wrong towards person or property which had so much promoted the comfort as well as the prosperity of the city. [Sidenote: [387 B.C.]] We now revert from the episode respecting Evagoras--interesting not less from the eminent qualities of that prince than from the glimpse of Hellenism struggling with the Phœnician element in Cyprus--to the general consequences of the Peace of Antalcidas in Central Greece. For the first time since the battle of Mycale in 479 B.C., the Persians were now really masters of all the Greeks on the Asiatic coast. The satraps lost no time in confirming their dominion. In all the cities which they suspected, they built citadels and planted permanent garrisons. In some cases, their mistrust or displeasure was carried so far as to raze the town altogether. And thus these cities, having already once changed their position greatly for the worse, by passing from easy subjection under Athens to the harsh ride of Lacedæmonian harmosts and native decemvirs, were now transferred to masters yet more oppressive and more completely without the pale of Hellenic sympathy. Both in public extortion, and in wrong-doing towards individuals, the commandant and his mercenaries whom the satrap maintained, were probably more rapacious, and certainly more unrestrained, than even the harmosts of Sparta. Moreover, the Persian grandees required beautiful boys as eunuchs for their service, and beautiful women as inmates of their harems. What was taken for their convenience admitted neither of recovery nor redress. While the Asiatic Greeks were thus made over by Sparta and the Perso-Spartan convention of Antalcidas, to a condition in every respect worse, they were at the same time thrown in, as reluctant auxiliaries to strengthen the hands of the Great King against other Greeks--against Evagoras in Cyprus, and above all, against the islands adjoining the coast of Asia--Chios, Samos, Rhodes, etc. These islands were now exposed to the same hazard, from their overwhelming Persian neighbours, as that from which they had been rescued nearly a century before by the confederacy of Delos, and by the Athenian empire into which that confederacy was transformed. All the tutelary combination that the genius, the energy, and the Panhellenic ardour of Athens had first organised, and so long kept up, was now broken up; while Sparta, to whom its extinction was owing, in surrendering the Asiatic Greeks, had destroyed the security even of the islanders.[e] THE REVOLT OF THEBES The ambition of making conquests in the East, which it now appeared impossible to retain, had deprived the Lacedæmonians of an authority, or rather dominion in Greece, acquired by the success of the Peloponnesian War, and which they might have reasonably expected to preserve and to confirm. Not only their power, but their safety, was threatened by the arms of a hostile confederacy, which had been formed and fomented by the wealth of Persia. Athens, their rival, their superior, their subject, but always their unrelenting enemy, had recovered her walls and fleet, and aspired to command the sea. Thebes and Argos had become sensible of their natural strength, and disdained to acknowledge the pre-eminence, or to follow the standard, of any foreign republic. The inferior states of Peloponnesus were weary of obeying every idle summons to war, from which they derived not any advantage but that of gratifying the ambition of their Spartan masters. The valuable colonies in Macedon and Thrace, and particularly the rich and populous cities of the Chalcidic region, the bloodless conquests of the virtuous Brasidas, had forsaken the interest of Sparta, when Sparta forsook the interest of justice. Scarcely any vestige appeared of the memorable trophies erected in a war of twenty-seven years. The eastern provinces (incomparably the most important of all) were irrecoverably lost; and this rapid decline of power had happened in the course of ten years, and had been chiefly occasioned by the fatal splendour of Agesilaus’ victories in Asia. During five years the Spartans maintained, in the Cadmea at Thebes, a garrison of fifteen hundred men. Protected by such a body of foreign troops, which might be reinforced on the shortest warning, the partisans of aristocracy acquired an absolute ascendency in the affairs of the republic, which they conducted in such a manner as best suited their own interest, and the convenience of Sparta. Without pretending to describe the banishments, confiscations, and murders of which they were guilty, it is sufficient for the purpose of general history to observe, that the miserable victims of their vengeance suffered similar calamities to those which afflicted Athens under the Thirty Tyrants. The severity of the government at length drove the Thebans to despair; and both the persecuted exiles abroad, and the oppressed subjects at home, prepared to embrace any measures, however daring and hazardous, which promised them a faint hope of relief. [Sidenote: [382-379 B.C.]] Among the Theban fugitives, who had taken refuge in Athens, and whose persons were now loudly demanded by Sparta, was Pelopidas, the son of Hippoclus, a youth whose distinguished advantages might have justly rendered him an object of envy, before he was involved in the misfortunes of his country. He yielded to none in birth; he surpassed all in fortune; he excelled in the manly exercises so much esteemed by the Greeks, and was unrivalled in qualities still more estimable--generosity and courage. He had an hereditary attachment to the democratic form of policy; and, previous to the late melancholy revolution, he was marked out by his numerous friends and adherents as the person most worthy of administering the government. Pelopidas had often conferred with his fellow-sufferers at Athens about the means of returning to their country, and restoring the democracy; encouraging them by the example of the patriotic Thrasybulus, who, with a handful of men, had issued from Thebes, and effected a similar, but still more difficult, enterprise. While they secretly deliberated on this important object, Mellon, one of the exiles, introduced to their nocturnal assembly his friend Phyllidas, who had lately arrived from Thebes; a man whose enterprising activity, singular address, and crafty boldness, justly entitle him to the regard of history. Phyllidas was strongly attached to the cause of the exiles; yet, by his insinuating complaisance, and officious servility, he had acquired the entire confidence of Leontiades, Archias, and the other magistrates, or rather tyrants, of the republic. In business and in pleasure, he rendered himself alike necessary to his masters; his diligence and abilities had procured him the important office of secretary to the council; and he had lately promised to Archias and Philip, the two most licentious of the tyrants, that he would give them an entertainment, during which they might enjoy the conversation and the persons of the finest women in Thebes. The day was appointed for this infamous rendezvous, which these magisterial debauchés awaited with the greatest impatience; and, in the interval, Phyllidas set out for Athens, on pretence of private business. [Sidenote: [379 B.C.]] In Athens, the time and the means were adjusted for executing the conspiracy. A body of Theban exiles assembled in the Thriasian plain, on the frontier of Attica, where seven, or twelve, of the youngest and most enterprising, voluntarily offered themselves to enter the capital, and to co-operate with Phyllidas in the destruction of the magistrates. The distance between Thebes and Athens was about thirty-five miles. The conspirators had thirteen miles to march through a hostile territory. They disguised themselves in the garb of peasants, arrived at the city towards evening with nets and hunting poles, and passed the gates without suspicion. During that night, and the succeeding day, the house of Charon, a wealthy and respectable citizen, the friend of Phyllidas and a determined enemy of the aristocracy, afforded them a secure refuge till the favourable moment summoned them to action. [Illustration: CHARON SUMMONED BEFORE THE MAGISTRATES] The important evening approached, when the artful secretary had prepared his long-expected entertainment in the treasury. Nothing had been omitted that could flatter the senses, and lull the activity of the mind in a dream of pleasure. But a secret and obscure rumour, which had spread in the city, hung, like a drawn dagger, over the voluptuous joys of the festivity. It had been darkly reported that some unknown strangers, supposed to be a party of the exiles, had been received into the house of Charon. All the address of Phyllidas could not divert the terror of his guests. They despatched one of their lictors or attendants to demand the immediate presence of Charon. The conspirators were already buckling on their armour, in hopes of being immediately summoned to execute their purpose. But what was their astonishment and terror, when their host and protector was sternly ordered to appear before the magistrates! The most sanguine were persuaded that their design had become public, and that they must all miserably perish, without effecting anything worthy of their courage. After a moment of dreadful reflection, they exhorted Charon to obey the mandate without delay. But that firm and patriotic Theban first went to the apartment of his wife, took his infant son, an only child, and presented him to Pelopidas and Mellon, requesting them to retain in their hands this dearest pledge of his fidelity. They unanimously declared their entire confidence in his honour, and entreated him to remove from danger a helpless infant, who might become, in some future time, the avenger of his country’s wrongs. But Charon was inflexible, declaring, “that his son could never aspire to a happier fortune, than that of dying honourably with his father and friends.” So saying, he addressed a short prayer to the gods, embraced his associates, and departed. Before he arrived at the treasury, he was met by Archias and Phyllidas. The former asked him, in the presence of the other magistrates, whose anxiety had brought them from table, “Who are those strangers said to have arrived the other day, and to be now entertained in your family?” Charon had composed his countenance so artfully, and retorted the question with such well-dissembled surprise, as considerably quieted the solicitude of the tyrants, which was totally removed by a whisper of Phyllidas, “that the absurd rumour had doubtless been spread for no other purpose but that of disturbing their pleasures.” They had scarcely returned to the banquet, when Fortune, as if she had taken pleasure to confound the dexterity of Phyllidas, raised up a new and most alarming danger. A courier arrived from Athens with every mark of haste and trepidation, desiring to see Archias, to whom he delivered a letter from an Athenian magistrate of the same name, his ancient friend and guest. This letter revealed the conspiracy; a secret not entrusted to the messenger, who had orders, however, to request Archias to read the despatch immediately, as containing matters of the utmost importance. But that careless voluptuary, whose thoughts were totally absorbed in the expected scene of pleasure, replied with a smile, “Business to-morrow;” deposited the letter under the pillow of the couch, on which, according to ancient custom, he lay at the entertainment; and resumed his conversation with Phyllidas. Matters were now come to a crisis; Phyllidas retired for a moment; the conspirators were put in motion; their weapons concealed under the flowing swell of female attire, and their countenances overshadowed and hid by a load of crowns and garlands. In this disguise they were presented to the magistrates intoxicated with wine and folly. At a given signal they drew their daggers, and effected their purpose. Charon and Mellon were the principal actors in this bloody scene, which was entirely directed by Phyllidas. But a more difficult task remained. Leontiades, with other abettors of the tyranny, still lived, to avenge the murder of their associates. The conspirators, encouraged by their first success, and conducted by Phyllidas, gained admission into their houses successively, by means of the unsuspected secretary. On the appearance of disorder and tumult, Leontiades seized his sword, and boldly prepared for his defence. Pelopidas had the merit of destroying the principal author of the Theban servitude and disgrace. His associates perished without resistance; men whose names may be consigned to just oblivion, since they were distinguished by nothing memorable but their cruel and oppressive tyranny. The measures of the conspirators were equally vigorous and prudent. Before alarming the city, they proceeded to the different prisons, which were crowded with the unfortunate victims of arbitrary power. Every door was open to Phyllidas. The captives, transported with joy and gratitude, increased the strength of their deliverers. They broke open the arsenals, and provided themselves with arms. The streets of Thebes now resounded with alarm and terror; every house and family were filled with confusion and uproar; the inhabitants were universally in motion; some providing lights, others running in wild disorder to the public places, and all anxiously wishing the return of day, that they might discover the unknown cause of this nocturnal tumult. During a moment of dreadful silence, which interrupted the noise of sedition, a herald proclaimed, with a clear and loud voice, the death of the tyrants, and summoned to arms the friends of liberty and the republic. Among others who obeyed the welcome invitation was Epaminondas, the son of Polymnis, a youth of the most illustrious merit; who united the wisdom of the sage and the magnanimity of the hero, with the practice of every mild and gentle virtue; unrivalled in knowledge and in eloquence; in birth, valour, and patriotism, not inferior to Pelopidas, with whom he had contracted an early friendship. The principles of the Pythagorean philosophy, which he had diligently studied under Lysis of Tarentum, rendered Epaminondas averse to engage in the conspiracy, lest he might imbrue his hands in civil blood. But when the sword was once drawn, he appeared with ardour in defence of his friends and country; and his example was followed by many brave and generous youths who had reluctantly endured the double yoke of domestic and foreign tyranny. The approach of morning had brought the Theban exiles, in arms, from the Thriasian plain. The partisans of the conspirators were continually increased by a confluence of new auxiliaries from every quarter of the city. Encompassed by such an invincible band of adherents, Pelopidas and his associates proceeded to the market-place; summoned a general assembly of the people; explained the necessity, the object, and the extent of the conspiracy; and, with the universal approbation of their fellow-citizens, restored the democratic form of government. Exploits of valour and intrepidity may be discovered in the history of every nation. But the revolution of Thebes displayed not less wisdom of design, than enterprising gallantry in execution. Amidst the tumult of action, and ardour of victory, the conspirators possessed sufficient coolness and foresight to reflect that the Cadmea, or citadel, which was held by a Lacedæmonian garrison of fifteen hundred men, would be reinforced, on the first intelligence of danger, by the resentful activity of Sparta. To anticipate this alarming event, which must have rendered the consequences of the conspiracy incomplete and precarious, they commanded the messenger, whom, immediately after the destruction of the tyrants, they had despatched to their friends in the Thriasian plain, to proceed to Athens, in order to communicate the news of a revolution which could not fail to be highly agreeable to that state, and to solicit the immediate assistance of the Athenians, whose superior skill in attacking fortified places was acknowledged by Greeks and barbarians. This message was attended with the most salutary effects. The acute discernment of the Athenians eagerly seized the precious opportunity of weakening Sparta, which, if once neglected, might never return. Several thousand men were ordered to march; and no time was lost, either in the preparation, or in the journey, since they reached Thebes the day after Pelopidas had re-established the democracy. The seasonable arrival of those auxiliaries, whose celerity exceeded the most sanguine hopes of the Thebans, increased the ardour of the latter to attack the citadel. The events of the siege are variously related. According to the most probable account, the garrison made a very feeble resistance, being intimidated by the impetuous alacrity and enthusiasm, as well as the increasing number of the assailants, who already amounted to fourteen thousand men, and received continual accessions of strength from the neighbouring cities of Bœotia. Only a few days had elapsed, when the Lacedæmonians desired to capitulate, on condition of being allowed to depart in safety with their arms. Their proposal was readily accepted; but they seem not to have demanded, or at least not to have obtained, any terms of advantage or security for those unfortunate Thebans whose attachment to the Spartan interest strongly solicited their protection. At the first alarm of sedition, these unhappy men, with their wives and families, had taken refuge in the citadel. The greater part of them cruelly perished by the resentment of their countrymen; a remnant only was saved by the humane interposition of the Athenians. So justly had Epaminondas suspected, that the revolution could not be accomplished without the effusion of civil blood.[f] THE SECOND ATHENIAN LEAGUE [Sidenote: [379-378 B.C.]] Politics makes strange bedfellows. The petty jealousies of the little Grecian townships, called countries, were as important and as bitter to them as the feuds of empires. Yet, of course, when any two of them fell by the ears they were always ready to accept aid from the bystanding communities, on whatsoever terms they may have recently been. We are now to see a stranger sight than the union of Athens and Sparta, and that is the re-alliance of the polished and haughty Athenians with the citizens of Thebes, although to the Attic mind the very word “Bœotian” had been from time immemorial a synonym for “swine,” a by-word of treachery, of Asiatic sympathy, and of backwoods uncouthness. The immediate effect of the theatrical revolution at Thebes was the death of three of the leading generals concerned. Sparta in disgust executed two of the defeated harmosts with short shrift of trial. The Athenians put to death one of the generals who had gone to the relief of the Thebans, and outlawed the other. They were not yet ready to take a step in renewal of the ancient wars with Sparta. The Thebans felt themselves now quite left at the mercy of the Lacedæmonians, and, indeed, it was only a Spartan who could seemingly have been of aid to them. Sphodrias, a harmost of Thespiæ, was hot-headed enough to dream of taking Athens unawares and seizing the Piræus. He was so slow on the march, however, that daylight found him only at Eleusis. Thereupon, his surprise failing, he retreated, ravaging the country through which he passed. Athens had shown her purpose to keep the peace with Sparta by her punishment of the rash officers who had gone to the relief of Thebes, and yet here was a Spartan general marching against Athens and playing havoc in the vicinity. A prompt disavowal on the part of Sparta was demanded, with the execution of Sphodrias. Sphodrias did not dare return to Sparta for trial, feeling that his doom was certain. And so it would have been had it not been for the influence of Agesilaus who was notably a tender-hearted man and could not resist the pleadings of his son who was on terms of Grecian intimacy with the son of Sphodrias. Acquittal followed, and Athens could not but feel herself insulted and forced into an open declaration for Thebes. War broke out and was busy for six years. It took the form, as usual, of a war between two leagues. Sparta felt called upon to deal gently with her remaining confederates after she saw Chios, Byzantium, Rhodes, and Mytilene revolt at once to Athens. Sparta divided her league into ten classes: herself the first, the Arcadian states second and third, Elis the fourth, the Achæans the fifth, Corinth and Megara the sixth, Sicyon, Phlius, and the towns of the Argolic Acte the seventh, the Acarnanians the eighth, the Phocians and Locrians the ninth, Olynthus and the other cities on the coast of Thrace the tenth. To Athens it seemed as if destiny had forced her once more to the forefront of a league against Sparta, a league which should bring her back to her old-time mastery of the seas. This league, which is called by Busolt[k] and others the second Athenian league, is called the third by Beloch,[g] who writes of it as follows: “Meanwhile Athens had striven with zeal to erect again the twice-lost lordship of the seas. Immediately after the King’s Peace the alliance with Chios, Mytilene, Methymna, and Byzantium was renewed: Rhodes also entered into treaty with Athens, as her Asia Minor league had gone to pieces at the death of Glos, about 379. The effort to resume the old relations with the Chalcidians in Thrace had been quickly foiled by the Spartan intervention; but instead, as we have seen, Thebes had entered into alliance with Athens in the spring of 378. And now, after the breach with Sparta was definite, Athens lifted up to all Hellenes and barbarians, where they were not under Persian rule, the summons to band together in a league against the encroachment of Sparta. The provisions of the King’s Peace should fashion the ground plan. The autonomy of all the states party to it was guaranteed; the Persian king was to be recognised as lord of the continent of Asia: Athens renounced all claims on her old colonial possessions and for the future the acquisition of houses and lands anywhere in the confederacy should be forbidden to the Athenians. For the administration of affairs a congress (_synedrion_) was established which sat in Athens, and in which delegates from all the allied states had place and vote; but Athens herself none. For the passing of measures, the consent of both the chief city [Athens] and of the synedrion was necessary. The funds for the fleet of the league were defrayed through contributions (_syntaxeis_) whose amount the synedrion would fix according to current needs. The management of this fund and the leadership in war belonged to Athens. “Athens made heavy sacrifices to lay the foundation for the erection of this new league. It was a complete breach with her political practices down to the King’s Peace, a final renunciation of the re-establishment of the empire in its old form, as she had planned since Thrasybulus. And more than that: thousands of Athenian citizens lost their last hope of regaining the property outside Attica, which their fathers had lost through the catastrophe of the year 404. But these sacrifices were not made in vain. The states of Eubœa came at once into the new league, except Oreus, which was held by a Spartan garrison; also the northern Sporades, Peparethus, Sciathus and Icus; Tenedos at the mouth of the Hellespont, Perinthus and Maronea in Thrace; Paros and other neighbouring isles. Moreover, the previous confederates of Athens, Chios, Mytilene, Mythimna, Byzantium, Rhodes, and Thebes came back. “Thus at one blow Athens was again the ruling power in the Ægean Sea; she could now take again in hand the trusteeship of the temple of Delos, which she had lost for some years. “At the same time the reorganisation of the Attic marine was begun. That was strongly needful: since in the Corinthian War the material had been rendered largely useless, and efforts at its repair had been very insufficiently made. There existed well over one hundred triremes, but most of them old and hardly seaworthy. The building of a great number of new battleships was begun and pushed so skilfully that after the lapse of twenty years (357-6) an array of 289 triremes remained in spite of the great demands made on the Attic fleet. To cover these expenses and for the payment of the costs of the war an extraordinary tax was levied on the property in Attica.” [Sidenote: [378-376 B.C.]] Thus we find Athens again with an array of allies behind her. She no longer has the prestige of old. The moneys that they entrust to her are contributions (_syntaxeis_), and no longer tribute (_phoros_). So jealous are they, indeed, of Athenian ambition that no citizen of Athens may even acquire property among the allies. The very tablet on which this treaty was carved is still in existence, though broken in a score of fragments. The chief purpose of the league is, it states, to be one of defence, a combination “to compel the Spartans to leave the Greeks in peace and freedom with unviolated lands.” The chief agents in the organisation of this confederacy and in the proselyting of allies were the brilliant orator Callistratus, who has been called the Aristides of the second confederacy, and the shrewd generals, Iphicrates, Chabrias, and Timotheus, the worthy son of the great admiral, Conon. The chief fault with the confederacy was that it bound Athens into an unnatural alliance with Thebes, its inveterate enemy, who could serve little further purpose than that of a ladder to be discarded as soon as it had been climbed over. The war, therefore, becomes mainly a war between Sparta and Athens, in which, as Holm[h] notes, “Athens played always the rôle of the spectator who sits quiet, saving his strength in order to act as peace-maker over both the antagonists.” Thebes took up the war with a blazing enthusiasm. She had for a controlling spirit the coming man Epaminondas, a military genius of the very first rank, a gifted musician, a philosopher, and an orator. He had the rare qualities of modesty, of pure patriotism, of indifference to money and to partisanship. Allied with him was Pelopidas, who was in command of a new organisation which stood some chance of meeting the famous Spartan hoplite in equal combat. This _Hieros Lochos_, or Sacred Band of sworn friends, was a curious body of three hundred young men fighting in couples and bound together by Grecian ideas of friendship. They were trained to a high degree of gymnastic strength, and while chosen at first merely to serve as front-rank men, later came to be employed as a separate regiment of irresistible momentum in a charge. Before they had learned the power of this troop the Thebans dug a ditch and built a rampart around the most fertile part of their territory against the invasions of the Spartans. Soon after the revolt of the city, in 378 B.C., the Spartan king Cleombrotus had raided the land, but without result. Later came King Agesilaus for two expeditions, equally fruitless, except for pillage. The Spartan Phœbidas made an inroad in 377 and was killed in a disastrous defeat. To relieve a famine due to the destruction of two harvests, the Thebans sent for two galleys of corn which the Spartan Alcetas captured, putting the crews in prison in the citadel in Oreus in Eubœa. The prisoners captured the fortress and took possession of the town, which now joined the league with Athens. In 376, Agesilaus, who was ill from the bursting of a blood-vessel, on his previous campaign, was compelled to keep his room, and the Spartans sent an army under Cleombrotus, who was repulsed at the passes of Cithæron. The Spartans now sent a fleet to cut off the corn supplies of Athens and put her port under blockade. Athens, once more able to take the sea, fitted a fleet of eighty galleys which she entrusted to Chabrias. In order to decoy the Spartan fleet under Pollis away from the Piræus, he laid siege to Naxos which was wavering towards the Athenian confederacy. Pollis accepted the challenge, and, though he had only sixty galleys, gave battle between Paros and Naxos. It was a hard fight and the Spartans seem to have lost all their ships except eleven, and these would have been destroyed, says Diodorus, had it not been for the fate of the commanders in the battle of Arginusæ, who, as will be remembered, were in such haste to pursue the defeated enemy that they did not stop to pick up their own wounded and dead on the sinking wrecks of their own fleet. They had been put to death in their hour of triumph, and the lesson was not forgotten by Chabrias in his victory thirty years later. [Sidenote: [376-374 B.C.]] The glory of Naxos, however, was a sufficient. And while it was not so momentous a success as Conon’s at the battle of Cnidus, it was more savoury to the Athenians, because it had been won by a fleet not of Asiatics merely commanded by an Athenian, but altogether by Athenian ships and men. In this battle the command of the left wing was given to Phocion, who looms large in later Athenian history. This success at Naxos in the year 376 relieved Athens of famine, re-established her prestige on the sea, and brought seventeen new cities around the Ægean Sea into the confederacy, together with a large contribution. In the same year the Athenians also punished an insurrection at Delos where the renewal of her authority was not entirely welcome. Preparations were now made for a circumnavigation of the Peloponnesus with a fleet under Pinotenus. In 375 he sailed and brought over to the Athenian alliance the islands of Corcyra and Cephallenia, a part of Acarnania, and the king of the Molossians. At Alyzia, Timotheus with his sixty galleys was attacked by the Spartan Nicolochus, with fifty-five galleys. The Athenian won this encounter, but declined a later challenge, and increased his fleet to seventy sail. [Illustration: GREEK WARRIOR IN TRAVELLING COSTUME (After Hope)] The expedition had succeeded in the purpose that had led the Thebans to suggest it, that is, it had prevented Sparta from making her usual incursion into Bœotia. Athens, however, found the fleet a very heavy and irksome expense, and each captain of a trireme was compelled to advance £28 or $140 towards the payment of his crew. The Athenians now suggested that the Thebans make some payment towards the cost of an expedition which had been of such economy to them; but they declined the opportunity, and Athens, in a not unnatural pique, turned towards Sparta. In 374 a peace was agreed to, but was broken at once owing to the fact that Timotheus interfered at Zacynthus and brought down the wrath of Sparta. So the war went on. Meanwhile, the year before, the Thebans had been active and growingly successful. They turned against three near-by cities in Bœotia which were old victims of Thebes and had been granted independence under the Peace of Antalcidas. These towns were Platæa, Thespiæ, and Orchomenos. They hated Thebes from bitter memories of former oppressions and held out against her increasing presumption, although other Bœotian towns were brought into the league, and although they were themselves heavily assailed. It was 372 before Platæa was taken by surprise and all the inhabitants driven out of it. They took refuge in Athens, whose friendship for Platæa was of old times. Thebes also compelled Thespiæ to tear down her fortifications. These things only revived in Athens the ancient abhorrence of Thebes, but they fed the insolence of the Bœotians. It was probably in 375 B.C., that Pelopidas, at the head of his Sacred Band, unexpectedly fell in with two Spartan moras, each of them equal alone to his three hundred, and each under command of a polemarch. One of his men came flying to Pelopidas, exclaiming: “We have fallen into the midst of the enemy.” “Why not they into the midst of us?” answered Pelopidas. And at once he charged home. The first onset killed the two Spartan leaders. This threw the two moras into confusion, and Pelopidas, after cutting his way through, instead of retiring, turned and successfully routed each of the moras. So far as the number engaged is concerned, it was hardly more than a serious riot, but, as we have seen before, any blow at the prestige of the Spartan soldier made all Greeks shudder, and here was a new organisation or club from the unheroic city of Thebes destroying a Spartan force of twice its strength. This was a further blow to Spartan pride and new fuel for the increase of Theban self-confidence. In 374 an expedition against Phocis was checked by Spartan troops under Cleombrotus, but about this time the Athenians seem to have regained Oropus, which the Spartans had captured in 411. This year also Lacedæmonian pride was more deeply humbled before Corcyra.[a] Of this let Xenophon tell. CORCYRA [Sidenote: [375-372 B.C.]] The Lacedæmonians preparing again to send out a fleet, collected vessels to the number of sixty from Lacedæmon itself, from Corinth, Leucas, Ambracia, Elis, Zacynthus, Achaia, Epidaurus, Trœzen, Hermion, and the Halians. Appointing Mnasippus admiral, they instructed him to attend to affairs in that sea in general, and to make an attempt upon Corcyra. They sent also to Dionysius, representing that it was for his interest that Corcyra should not be in the power of the Athenians. Mnasippus, when his fleet was collected, set sail for Corcyra. He had with him, in addition to the troops from Lacedæmon, a body of mercenaries to the amount of not less than fifteen hundred. When he landed on the island, he at once became master of it, and laid waste the country, which was excellently cultivated and planted, and exhibited, throughout the fields, fine houses and well-constructed wine-vaults; so that the soldiers, they said, arrived at such a height of luxury, that they would drink no wine but such as was of a fragrant odour. Slaves and cattle in great numbers were carried off from the fields. At length he encamped with his land-forces on a hill, distant about five stadia from the city, and overlooking the country, so that if any of the Corcyræans should come out into the fields, he might cut off their retreat; his ships he stationed on the opposite side of the city, at a point where he thought that they would observe and stop whatever vessels might approach the coast. In addition to these arrangements, he anchored galleys, when foul weather did not prevent, in front of the harbour. Thus he kept the city in a state of blockade. As the Corcyræans, in consequence, could get no supplies from their grounds, since they were overpowered by land, while nothing could be brought them by sea, because they were inferior in naval force, they suffered greatly from want of provisions, and, sending to the Athenians, entreated aid of them, and represented that “they would lose a very valuable possession if they should be deprived of Corcyra, and would greatly increase at the same time, the strength of their enemies; since from no state in Greece, except Athens, could more ships or money be raised;” they added, also, that “the island of Corcyra was favourably situated with regard to the Gulf of Corinth, and the cities lying upon it, and favourably, too, for ravaging the territory of Laconia, but most favourably of all with reference to the opposite continent, and the passage from Sicily to the Peloponnesus.” The Athenians, on hearing these representations, were of opinion that they must pay careful attention to the matter, and sent out Stesicles, as general, with six hundred peltasts, requesting Alcetas to assist in conveying them over the water. These troops were accordingly landed on the coast by night, and made their way into the city of Corcyra. The Athenians also resolved to fit out sixty additional ships, and elected Timotheus as commander of them. Timotheus, not being able to man these vessels at home, sailed about to the different islands, and endeavoured to complete his crews from thence; thinking it would be no light matter to sail round without due preparation against ships so well disciplined as those of the enemy. But the Athenians, imagining that he was wasting the whole of the season suitable for the expedition, had no patience with him, and, depriving him of his command, appointed Iphicrates in his room. Iphicrates, as soon as he was made commander, manned his vessels with the utmost expedition, and obliged the trierarchs to exert themselves. He took from the Athenians, also, whatever ships were on the coast of Attica, as well as the Paralus and Salaminian ships, observing that “if affairs at Corcyra were successful, he would send them back plenty of ships.” His fleet amounted in all to about seventy. During this time the people of Corcyra were so grievously oppressed with famine, that, in consequence of the number of deserters, Mnasippus made proclamation that “all deserters for the future should be sold as slaves.” But when they continued to desert nevertheless, he at last scourged them, and sent them back. The people in the city, however, refused to receive any slaves into the town, and many, in consequence, perished without the walls. Mnasippus, observing this, imagined that he was all but in possession of the city, and began to make new arrangements as to his mercenaries, some of whom he dismissed from his service, while to those who remained he continued in debt two months’ pay, though not, as it was said, for want of money, for the greater number of the towns, in consequence of the expedition being over the sea, had sent him money instead of men. But as the people in the city observed from their towers that the lines of the enemy were guarded with less strictness than before, and that the men were straggling over the country, they made a sally upon them, and took some of them prisoners and killed some. Mnasippus, perceiving what had happened, armed himself, and hastened, with all the heavy-armed troops that he had, to the succour of his men, ordering also the captains and centurions to lead out the mercenaries. Some of the captains observing that “it was not easy for those to have their men obedient who gave them no subsistence,” he struck one of them with his staff, and another with the handle of his spear. Thus they all came out without spirit, and with feelings of hatred towards their general; a state of mind by no means favourable for fighting. However, when he had drawn up his force, he put to flight those of the enemy that were near the gates of the city, and pressed forward in pursuit of them; but the pursued, when they were close to the wall, faced about, and hurled stones and darts at him from the tombs; while others, sallying forth from the other gates, fell, in a dense body, upon the extremity of his line. Mnasippus’ men there, being formed but eight deep, and thinking their wing too weak, endeavoured to wheel round, but when they began to withdraw from their position, the enemy rushed upon them as if they were going to flee, when they themselves no longer attempted to turn, and those that were nearest to them took to flight. Mnasippus, at the same time, was unable to support the party that were in difficulties, as the enemy were pressing upon him in front, and he was continually left with fewer and fewer men. At last the enemy, collecting in a body, made a general attack upon those remaining with Mnasippus, now reduced to a very small number indeed; while the people from the city, observing how things stood, sallied forth, and, after killing Mnasippus, joined in a general pursuit. The pursuers would probably have taken the camp and entrenchment, had they not observed the crowd in the market, and that of the servants and slaves, and, imagining it an efficient body of defenders, retraced their steps. The Corcyræans however erected a trophy, and restored the dead under a truce. After this affair, the people in the city grew bolder, while those without were in extreme dejection; for it was said that Iphicrates was almost at hand; and the Corcyræans actually proceeded to fit out their vessels. But Hypermenes, who had been second in command to Mnasippus, manned all the Lacedæmonian ships that were there, and, sailing round to the encampment, loaded them every one with slaves and other effects, and sent them off. He himself, with the marines, and such of the other soldiers as survived, stayed to guard the entrenchment; but at last these also got on board in the utmost disorder and sailed away, leaving behind them a great quantity of corn and wine, and a number of slaves and sick persons; for they were extremely afraid that they would be surprised in the island by the Athenians. However, they arrived in safety at Leucas. Iphicrates, as soon as he commenced his voyage, continued, while he pursued his way, to prepare everything necessary for an engagement. He left his large sails at home at starting, as standing out for a battle, and of his other sails, even if the wind was favourable, he made little use; but, making his passage with the oar, caused his men, by that means, to keep themselves in better condition, and his ships to pursue their course better. Frequently, too, wherever the crews were going to dine or sup, he would draw off one extremity of the fleet to a distance from the land over against the place, and, when he had turned about, and ranged his vessels in a line with their prows towards it, would start them, at a signal, to race against each other to the shore; when it was a great advantage for such as could first take their water, and whatever else they needed, and first finish their meal; while, to such as came last, it was a great punishment to have the disadvantage in all these respects, since they were all obliged to put out to sea again when he gave the signal; for it was the fortune of those that landed first to do everything at their leisure, but of those that were last, to do all with hurry. If he landed to take a meal in the enemy’s country, he not only posted sentinels, as was proper, on the shore, but also, raising the masts in his ships, kept a lookout from thence. The men stationed on the masts, indeed, saw much farther than those on the level ground, as they looked down from a higher position. Wherever he supped or slept, he kindled no fire in the camp at night, but kept a light burning in front of the encampment, that no one might approach undiscovered. Often, moreover, if the weather was calm, he would resume his voyage as soon as supper was over; and, if a breeze propelled the vessels, the men reposed as they ran on, but, if it was necessary to use the oar, he made them take rest by turns. In his course by day, he would sometimes, at given signals, lead his ships in a line behind one another, and sometimes in a body side by side; so that, while they pursued their voyage, they practised and acquired whatever was necessary for naval warfare, and thus arrived at the sea which they believed to be occupied by the enemy. They dined and supped, for the most part, on the enemy’s territory; but, as they did nothing more there than what was necessary, Iphicrates escaped all attacks by the suddenness with which he resumed his voyage, which he soon accomplished. About the time of Mnasippus’ death he was at the Sphagiæ in Laconia. Advancing thence to the coast of Elis, and sailing past the mouth of the Alpheus, he came to anchor at the promontory called Icthys. Next day he proceeded from thence to Cephallenia, with his fleet so arranged, and keeping his course in such a manner, that he could, if it should be requisite, get everything needful ready for battle, and engage at once; for as to the fate of Mnasippus, he had heard no account from any eye-witness, and suspected that it might be a report intended to deceive him, and accordingly kept upon his guard. But when he arrived at Cephallenia, he received a full statement of facts, and stopped there to refresh his men. Having reduced the towns in Cephallenia, he sailed off to Corcyra. Here the first intelligence he received was, that ten galleys were coming from Dionysius to reinforce the Lacedæmonians; and going in person therefore along the coast, and considering from what points it was possible to descry those vessels approaching, and for people making signals to render them visible at the city, he posted sentinels in those places, arranging with them what signals they should give when the enemy sailed up and cast anchor. He then selected twenty of his own captains, who were to be ready to follow him whenever he should send a messenger to them, and gave them notice, that, if any one of them should not follow him, he must not complain of any penalty imposed upon him. As soon as these ships, then, were signalled as approaching, and messengers were sent to the captains, their haste was deserving of admiration; for there was no one, of those that were going to sail, that did not embark with the utmost speed. Standing away to the point where the ships of the enemy were, he found that the men from the rest of them were gone ashore, but that Melanippus, a Rhodian captain, was exhorting the other commanders not to stay there, and, embarking his own crew, was sailing off. Melanippus, in consequence, though he met with the ships of Iphicrates, nevertheless escaped, but all the ships from Syracuse were captured, with their crews. Iphicrates, cutting off the beaks of the vessels, brought them in tow into the harbour of Corcyra, and settled a fixed sum for each of the prisoners to pay for his ransom, except Crinippus, the chief captain, whom he kept under guard, as if he would exact a vast sum from him, or sell him as a slave. He however died, through grief, by his own hands. The other prisoners Iphicrates discharged, taking security from the Corcyræans for the payment of their ransom. He maintained his sailors, chiefly, by employing them in agriculture in the service of the Corcyræans. With the peltasts, and the heavy-armed men from the fleet, he passed over to Acarnania, where he afforded aid to the friendly towns, if any required it, and made war upon the Thyreans, a people of great bravery, and occupying a strongly fortified place. Afterwards, fetching the fleet from Corcyra, consisting now of about ninety ships, he proceeded first to Cephallenia and raised contributions there, as well from people that were willing to give them, as from those that were unwilling. He then prepared to commit depredations on the territories of the Lacedæmonians; and, of the cities in those parts attached to the enemy, to receive into alliance such as were willing to join him, and to make war on such as rejected his advances.[c] THE TRIAL OF TIMOTHEUS [Sidenote: [373 B.C.]] [Illustration: GREEK HERALD] The happy result of the Corcyræan expedition, imparting universal satisfaction at Athens, was not less beneficial to Timotheus than to Iphicrates. It was in November 373 B.C., that the former, as well as his quæstor or military treasurer, Antimachus, underwent each his trial. Callistratus, having returned home, pleaded against the quæstor, perhaps against Timotheus also, as one of the accusers; though probably in a spirit of greater gentleness and moderation, in consequence of his recent joint success and of the general good temper prevalent in the city. And while the edge of the accusation against Timotheus was thus blunted, the defence was strengthened not merely by numerous citizen friends speaking in his favour with increased confidence, but also by the unusual phenomenon of two powerful foreign supporters. At the request of Timotheus, both Alcetas of Epirus, and Jason of Pheræ, came to Athens a little before the trial, to appear as witnesses in his favour. They were received and lodged by him in his house in the Hippodamian Agora, the principal square of the Piræus. And as he was then in some embarrassment for want of money, he found it necessary to borrow various articles of finery in order to do them honour--clothes, bedding, and two silver drinking-bowls--from Pasion, a wealthy banker near at hand. These two important witnesses would depose to the zealous service and estimable qualities of Timotheus; who had inspired them with warm interest, and had been the means of bringing them into alliance with Athens; an alliance which they had sealed at once by conveying Stesicles and his division across Thessaly and Epirus to Corcyra. The minds of the dicastery would be powerfully affected by seeing before them such a man as Jason of Pheræ, at that moment the most powerful individual in Greece; and we are not surprised to learn that Timotheus was acquitted. Although he was now acquitted, his reputation suffered so much by the whole affair, that in the ensuing spring he was glad to accept an invitation of the Persian satraps, who offered him the command of the Grecian mercenaries in their service for the Egyptian war; the same command from which Iphicrates had retired a little time before. [Sidenote: [378-373 B.C.]] That admiral, whose naval force had been reinforced by a large number of Corcyræan triremes, was committing without opposition incursions against Acarnania, and the western coast of Peloponnesus; insomuch that the expelled Messenians, in their distant exile at Hesperides in Libya, began to conceive hopes of being restored by Athens to Naupactus, which they had occupied under her protection during the Peloponnesian War. And while the Athenians were thus masters at sea both east and west of Peloponnesus, Sparta and her confederates, discouraged by the ruinous failure of their expedition against Corcyra in the preceding year, appear to have remained inactive. With such mental predispositions, they were powerfully affected by religious alarm arising from certain frightful earthquakes and inundations with which Peloponnesus was visited during this year, and which were regarded as marks of the wrath of the god Poseidon. More of these formidable visitations occurred this year in Peloponnesus than had ever before been known; especially one, the worst of all, whereby the two towns of Helice and Bura in Achaia were destroyed, together with a large portion of their population. Ten Lacedæmonian triremes, which happened to be moored on this shore on the night when the calamity occurred, were destroyed by the rush of the waters. Under these depressing circumstances, the Lacedæmonians had recourse to the same manœuvre which had so well served their purpose fifteen years before, in 388-387 B.C. They sent Antalcidas again as envoy to Persia, to entreat both pecuniary aid and a fresh Persian intervention enforcing anew the peace which bore his name; which peace had now been infringed (according to Lacedæmonian construction) by the reconstitution of the Bœotian confederacy under Thebes as president. And it appears that in the course of the autumn or winter, Persian envoys actually did come to Greece, requiring that the belligerents should all desist from war, and wind up their dissensions on the principles of the Peace of Antalcidas. The Persian satraps, at this time renewing their efforts against Egypt, were anxious for the cessation of hostilities in Greece, as a means of enlarging their numbers of Grecian mercenaries; of which troops Timotheus had left Athens a few months before to take the command. Apart, however, from this prospect of Persian intervention, which doubtless was not without effect, Athens herself was becoming more and more disposed towards peace. That common fear and hatred of the Lacedæmonians, which had brought her into alliance with Thebes in 378 B.C., was now no longer predominant. She was actually at the head of a considerable maritime confederacy; and this she could hardly hope to increase by continuing the war, since the Lacedæmonian naval power had already been humbled. Moreover, the Athenians had become more and more alienated from Thebes. The ancient antipathy between these two neighbours had for a time been overlaid by common fear of Sparta. But as soon as Thebes had re-established her authority in Bœotia, the jealousies of Athens again began to arise. During the last three or four years, Platæa, like the other towns of Bœotia, had been again brought into the confederacy under Thebes. Re-established by Sparta after the Peace of Antalcidas as a so-called autonomous town, it had been garrisoned by her as a post against Thebes, and was no longer able to maintain a real autonomy after the Spartans had been excluded from Bœotia in 376 B.C. While other Bœotian cities were glad to find themselves emancipated from their philo-Laconian oligarchies and rejoined to the federation under Thebes, Platæa--as well as Thespiæ--submitted to the union only by constraint; awaiting any favourable opportunity for breaking off, either by means of Sparta or of Athens. Aware probably of the growing coldness between the Athenians and Thebans, the Platæans were secretly trying to persuade Athens to accept and occupy their town, annexing Platæa to Attica; a project hazardous both to Thebes and Athens, since it would place them at open war with each other, while neither was yet at peace with Sparta. [Sidenote: [373-371 B.C.]] This intrigue, coming to the knowledge of the Thebans, determined them to strike a decisive blow. The bœotarch Neocles conducted a Theban armed force immediately from the assembly, by a circuitous route through Hysiæ to Platæa; which town he found deserted by most of its male adults and unable to make resistance. The Platæans--dispersed in the fields, finding their walls, their wives, and their families, all in possession of the victor--were under the necessity of accepting the terms proposed to them. They were allowed to depart in safety and to carry away all their movable property; but their town was destroyed and its territory again annexed to Thebes. The unhappy fugitives were constrained for the second time to seek refuge at Athens, where they were again kindly received, and restored to the same qualified right of citizenship as they had enjoyed prior to the Peace of Antalcidas. It was not merely with Platæa, but also with Thespiæ, that Thebes was now meddling. Mistrusting the dispositions of the Thespians, she constrained them to demolish the fortifications of their town; as she had caused to be done fifty-two years before, after the victory of Delium, on suspicion of leanings favourable to Athens. Such proceedings on the part of the Thebans in Bœotia excited strong emotion at Athens, where the Platæans not only appeared as suppliants, with the tokens of misery conspicuously displayed, but also laid their case pathetically before the assembly, and invoked aid to regain their town, of which they had been just bereft. On a question at once so touching and so full of political consequences, many speeches were doubtless composed and delivered, one of which has fortunately reached us; composed by Isocrates, and perhaps actually delivered by a Platæan speaker before the public assembly. The hard fate of this interesting little community is here impressively set forth, including the bitterest reproaches, stated with not a little of rhetorical exaggeration, against the multiplied wrongs done by Thebes, as well towards Athens as towards Platæa. The resolution was at length taken--first by Athens, and next, probably, by the majority of the confederates assembled at Athens--to make propositions of peace to Sparta, where it was well known that similar dispositions prevailed towards peace. Notice of this intention was given to the Thebans, who were moreover invited to send envoys to the Lacedæmonian capital, if they chose to become parties. In the spring of 371 B.C., at the time when the members of the Lacedæmonian confederacy were assembled at Sparta, both the Athenian and Theban envoys, and those from the various members of the Athenian confederacy, arrived there. Among the Athenian envoys, two at least--Callias (the hereditary _daduch_ or torchbearer of the Eleusinian ceremonies) and Autocles--were men of great family at Athens; and they were accompanied by Callistratus, the orator. From the Thebans, the only man of note was Epaminondas, then one of the Bœotarchs. THE CONGRESS AT SPARTA [Sidenote: [371 B.C.]] Of the debates which took place at this important congress, we have very imperfect knowledge; and of the more private diplomatic conversations, not less important than the debates, we have no knowledge at all. Xenophon gives us a speech from each of the three Athenians, and from no one else. That of Callias, who announces himself as hereditary proxenus of Sparta at Athens, is boastful and empty, but eminently philo-Laconian in spirit; that of Autocles is in the opposite tone, full of severe censure on the past conduct of Sparta; that of Callistratus, delivered after the other two--while the enemies of Sparta were elate, her friends humiliated, and both parties silent, from the fresh effect of the reproaches of Autocles--is framed in a spirit of conciliation, admitting faults on both sides, but deprecating the continuance of war, as injurious to both, and showing how much the joint interests of both pointed towards peace. This orator, representing the Athenian diplomacy of the time, recognises distinctly the Peace of Antalcidas as the basis upon which Athens was prepared to treat, autonomy to each city, small as well as great: and in this way, coinciding with the views of the Persian king, he dismisses with indifference the menace that Antalcidas was on his way back from Persia with money to aid the Lacedæmonians in the war. Athens and Sparta were to become mutual partners and guarantees; dividing the headship of Greece by an ascertained line of demarcation, yet neither of them interfering with the principle of universal autonomy. Thebes, and her claim to the presidency of Bœotia, were thus to be set aside by mutual consent. [Illustration: GREEK JAR (In the British Museum)] It was upon this basis that the peace was concluded. The armaments on both sides were to be disbanded; the harmosts and garrisons everywhere withdrawn, in order that each city might enjoy full autonomy. If any city should fail in observance of these conditions, and continue in a career of force against any other, all were at liberty to take arms for the support of the injured party; but no one who did not feel disposed, was bound so to take arms. This last stipulation exonerated the Lacedæmonian allies from one of their most vexatious chains. To the conditions here mentioned, all parties agreed; and on the ensuing day, the oaths were exchanged. Sparta took the oath for herself and her allies; Athens took the oath for herself only--her allies afterwards took it severally, each city for itself. Why such difference was made, we are not told; for it would seem that the principle of severance applied to both confederacies alike. Next came the turn of the Thebans to swear; and here the fatal hitch was disclosed. Epaminondas, the Theban envoy, insisted on taking the oath, not for Thebes separately, but for Thebes as president of the Bœotian federation, including all the Bœotian cities. The Spartan authorities, on the other hand, and Agesilaus as the foremost of all, strenuously opposed him. They required that he should swear for Thebes alone, leaving the Bœotian cities to take the oath each for itself. Already in the course of the preliminary debates, Epaminondas had spoken out boldly against the ascendency of Sparta. While most of the deputies stood overawed by her dignity, represented by the energetic Agesilaus as spokesman, he, like the Athenian Autocles, and with strong sympathy from many of the deputies present, had proclaimed that nothing kept alive the war except her unjust pretensions, and that no peace could be durable unless such pretensions were put aside. Accepting the conditions of peace as finally determined, he presented himself to swear to them in the name of the Bœotian federation. But Agesilaus, requiring that each of the Bœotian cities should take the oath for itself, appealed to those same principles of liberty which Epaminondas himself had just invoked, and asked him whether each of the Bœotian cities had not as good a title to autonomy as Thebes. Epaminondas might have replied by asking why Sparta had just been permitted to take the oath for her allies as well as for herself. But he took a higher ground. He contended that the presidency of Bœotia was held by Thebes on as good a title as the sovereignty of Laconia by Sparta. He would remind the assembly that when Bœotia was first conquered and settled by its present inhabitants, the other towns had all been planted out from Thebes as their chief and mother-city; that the federal union of all, administered by bœotarchs chosen by and from all, with Thebes as president, was coeval with the first settlement of the country; that the separate autonomy of each was qualified by an established institution, devolving on the bœotarchs and councils sitting at Thebes the management of the foreign relations of all jointly. All this had been pleaded by the Theban orator before the five Spartan commissioners assembled to determine the fate of the captives after the surrender of Platæa; when he required the condemnation of the Platæans as guilty of treason to the ancestral institutions of Bœotia, and the Spartan commissioners had recognised the legitimacy of these institutions by a sweeping sentence of death against the transgressors. Moreover, at a time when the ascendency of Thebes over the Bœotian cities had been greatly impaired by her anti-Hellenic co-operation with the invading Persians, the Spartans themselves had assisted her with all their power to re-establish it, as a countervailing force against Athens. Epaminondas could show that the presidency of Thebes over the Bœotian cities was the keystone of the federation--a right not only of immemorial antiquity, but pointedly recognised and strenuously vindicated by the Spartans themselves. He could show further that it was as old, and as good, as their own right to govern the Laconian townships; which latter was acquired and held (as one of the best among their own warriors had boastfully proclaimed) by nothing but Spartan valour and the sharpness of the Spartan sword. An emphatic speech of this tenor, delivered amidst the deputies assembled at Sparta, and arraigning the Spartans not merely in their supremacy over Greece, but even in their dominion at home, was as it were the shadow cast before by coming events. It opened a question such as no Greek had ever ventured to raise. It was a novelty startling to all--extravagant probably in the eyes of Callistratus and the Athenians, but to the Spartans themselves intolerably poignant and insulting. They had already a long account of antipathy to clear off with Thebes; their own wrong-doing in seizing the Cadmea; their subsequent humiliation in losing it and being unable to recover it; their recent short-comings and failures, in the last seven years of war against Athens and Thebes jointly. To aggravate this deep-seated train of hostile associations, their pride was now wounded in an unforeseen point, the tenderest of all. Agesilaus, full to overflowing of the national sentiment, which in the mind of a Spartan passed for the first of virtues, was stung to the quick. Had he been an Athenian orator like Callistratus, his wrath would have found vent in an animated harangue. But a king of Sparta was anxious only to close these offensive discussions with scornful abruptness, thus leaving to the presumptuous Theban no middle ground between humble retractation and acknowledged hostility. Indignantly starting from his seat, he said to Epaminondas: “Speak plainly,--will you, or will you not, leave to each of the Bœotian cities its separate autonomy?” To which the other replied, “Will you leave each of the Laconian towns autonomous?” Without saying another word, Agesilaus immediately caused the name of the Thebans to be struck out of the roll, and proclaimed them excluded from the treaty. Such was the close of this memorable congress at Sparta in June 371 B.C. Between the Spartans and the Athenians, and their respective allies, peace was sworn. But the Thebans were excluded, and their deputies returned home, (if we may believe Xenophon) discouraged and mournful. Yet such a man as Epaminondas must have been well aware that neither his claims nor his arguments would be admitted by Sparta. If, therefore, he was disappointed with the result, this must be because he had counted upon, but did not obtain, support from the Athenians or others. ATHENS ABANDONS THEBES The leaning of the Athenian deputies had been adverse rather than favourable to Thebes throughout the congress. They were disinclined, from their sympathies with the Platæans, to advocate the presidential claims of Thebes, though on the whole it was to the political interest of Athens that the Bœotian federation should be maintained, as a bulwark to herself against Sparta. Yet the relations of Athens with Thebes, after the congress as before it, were still those of friendship, nominal rather than sincere. It was only with Sparta, and her allies, that Thebes was at war, without a single ally attached to her. On the whole, Callistratus and his colleagues had managed the interests of Athens in this congress with great prudence and success. They had disengaged her from the alliance with Thebes, which had been dictated seven years before by common fear and dislike of Sparta, but which had no longer any adequate motive to countervail the cost of continuing the war; at the same time the disengagement had been accomplished without bad faith. The gains of Athens, during the last seven years of war, had been considerable. She had acquired a great naval power, and a body of maritime confederates; while her enemies the Spartans had lost their naval power in the like proportion. Athens was now the ascendant leader of maritime and insular Greece, while Sparta still continued to be the leading power on land--but only on land; and a tacit partnership was now established between the two, each recognising the other in their respective halves of the Hellenic hegemony. Moreover, Athens had the prudence to draw her stake, and quit the game, when at the maximum of acquisitions, without taking the risk of future contingencies.[e] FOOTNOTES [11] [That is, the organisation of a group of settlements into one city or capital.] [Illustration: GREEK SEALS] CHAPTER XLV. THE DAY OF EPAMINONDAS It was not a new enemy which Sparta had found, but rather an old one which had come to new power, in the city of Thebes. In that city an extraordinary man had come to light, and by his sole influence he raised his people to the head of Grecian affairs. This man was Epaminondas, certainly one of the greatest men--some would have it even the very greatest--that Greece ever produced. There have been philosophical historians who have doubted the influence of the individual man in moulding the course of human events. According to one point of view it is the events always that make the man, the great man coming forward when he is needed, and because he is needed. But such cases as that of Epaminondas ill accord with this theory. Nothing seems clearer than that Thebes rose into great influence and wrested the sceptre of power from Sparta solely because the great leader Epaminondas chanced to be a Theban. For it is quite beyond dispute, that in all the previous years in which she had constantly participated in the Grecian struggles, Thebes had occupied a subordinate place, and it is equally clear that she sank back at once into relative insignificance the moment that Epaminondas was gone. It was Epaminondas who led the Thebans in person against the Spartans, in the first engagement in which a Spartan army was ever put to flight in open combat, and the success of Epaminondas was probably due to the fact that his genius had developed a new form of tactics. The method of massing the heavy-armed soldiers in what came afterwards to be famous as the Macedonian phalanx--the weapon with which Alexander won his victories--was, it is said, really due to Epaminondas. Philip of Macedon, who was afterwards to become the master of Greece, was a captive in Thebes during his boyhood, and it is supposed that he there gained the germ of the idea, which afterwards, when put into practice, enabled his Macedonian warriors to scatter the true Greeks as easily as in an earlier day the Greeks had scattered the Persians. What else Philip may have learned through the example of Epaminondas it would be difficult to say, but in this view it is clear that the genius of the great Theban leader may have entered much more potently into the story of the final overthrow of Greece than might at first sight appear. Such intangible associations aside, however, it is clear that the fame of Epaminondas has suffered through the relative insignificance of the epoch in which he lived. Historians, by common consent, give him a foremost place among the great Greeks; yet to the generality of readers, to whom such names as Themistocles, Pericles, and Alexander are household words, the name of Epaminondas is almost unknown. This neglect was inevitable, for the events in which this latter hero figured were the events of the declining years of a great nation; events which, far from telling for the up-building of Grecian power, were merely the last preparatory stages for the final overthrow. It seems strange to reflect that the period that intervened between the close of the Peloponnesian War and the final conquest of Greece by Philip of Macedon is a longer period than the entire stretch of the age of Pericles. It was an epoch separated from that golden period of Grecian culture only by the lapse of a single generation; yet how strangely different is the import that it bears to after generations. The proud Athens is now the home of a broken and dispirited people. Sparta, after a brief moment of glory, has been laid in the dust. The ascent of Thebes is no more rocket-like than its descent. When looking on this period one feels that already Greece has ceased to exist, and yet one may well doubt whether any contemporary citizen, say of Athens, could at all have realised the enormous change that had come over the spirit and status of the Greek race. There were still great men in Athens. Perhaps it may have seemed to the Athenian of that day that great men were as numerous as they had ever been. Euripides and Sophocles had left no worthy successors, to be sure; but Aristophanes lived well on into the later period, and in the field of art Praxiteles may easily have seemed to contemporary judgment the peer of Phidias, while in the field of philosophy and science there were such names as Plato, and Aristotle, and Xenophon, and in oratory there was no name in the previous epoch to rival that of Demosthenes. Such names as these show that Greek genius did not die out in a single hour. A nation once grown to greatness cannot be overthrown in a single generation, unless its entire population be destroyed or scattered as was that of Nineveh. Yet it is none the less certain that Athenian culture was now in its time of decay, however little patency that fact may have had to the contemporary witness. And in looking back, with all that one has learned of the seemingly fixed limits of national existence through study of other peoples, one is forced to the conclusion that perhaps it did not greatly matter that the sturdy Macedonian from the north should have swept down and stamped out the last spark of Athenian power.[a] The condition of Greece at this time shows that, during the long convulsions, all the old sentiments and associations had been lost, and that Greece had now come to a point at which most of the states could not exist without a protector. It required that fearful training which the Greeks had to submit to for nearly a whole century, before they became capable of living under a really free federal constitution like that of the Achæan League: a firm union into one whole, when the isolated existence of the separate states had become a matter of impossibility. The state of Greece was indescribably sad, and the most atrocious scenes occurred everywhere. The Spartans might now have enjoyed peace; but they were still incorrigible. When pressed by great difficulties, they always signed the treaties; but when they were out of danger, and the treaties had to be carried into effect, they felt uneasy; they could never prevail upon themselves to exercise self-control, or to give up anything. The Thebans seemed to be ready to accede to the peace; but the Spartans still insisted upon the necessity of Thebes separating from Bœotia, although they had not undertaken the guarantee of the peace; in the Peace of Antalcidas they had done so, but this was not the case now. King Cleombrotus was stationed with an army in Phocis; that army ought now to have been disbanded, and this was the opinion of a few sensible men; but the majority thought that it should be employed in compelling the Thebans to set the Bœotians free. The ruling party at Sparta now hoped to be able to compel Thebes, which was forsaken by all the other Greeks, without any difficulty, especially as some of the Bœotian towns, such as Orchomenos, sided with Sparta. Orchomenos was still dreaming of her ancient splendour and glory, and of the mythical times when Thebes was separated from Bœotia, when Orchomenos was the most powerful city, and Thebes paid tribute to her. These recollections were cherished by the Orchomenians with great and fond partiality; just as if Amalfi wished at present to re-establish the claims of its ancient greatness. SPARTA INVADES BŒOTIA Cleombrotus, therefore, full of hope, entered Bœotia, after the peace had been signed, demanding that Bœotia should carry the terms of the peace into effect, and renounce Thebes, and that every town should assert its independence. The other Bœotian towns, with the exception of Orchomenos and Thespiæ, were reasonable enough to see that their dependence on Thebes, with extensive rights, was far better than independence; and Thebes was supported by far the greater number of the Bœotians. The Thebans, joined by their Bœotian allies, now took the field.[b] Cleombrotus, with a degree of military skill rare in the Spartan commanders, baffled all the Theban calculations. Instead of marching by the highway he turned south, defeated a Theban force and captured the port of Creusis with twelve Theban triremes. He then marched north through the mountains into Thespiæ and encamped on the high ground at a place of ever-memorable name--Leuctra.[c] Fortunately for Bœotia, Epaminondas was bœotarch at this time. Pelopidas, likewise bœotarch, commanded the _Hieros Lochos_ [Sacred Band], the _élite_ of the citizens. If Epaminondas had been an ordinary man, he would have turned back again almost immediately after he had marched out; for the omens, to which the ancients attached so much importance, strangely accumulated to such a degree, that they might have shaken a firm mind which was not altogether proof against superstition. When the army passed out of the gate, for example, they met a herald bringing back a deserter, and uttering ominous words, “You ought not to be led out of the city.” Then a high wind rose, carrying off ribbons with which they had adorned themselves for the sacrifice, and these ribbons clung round a pillar on a tomb. Hence an indescribable consternation arose, but Epaminondas recited the magnificent line from the _Iliad_: εἴς οἰωνὸς ἄριστος ἀμύνεσθαι περὶ πάτρης![12] and boldly marched out. It is a pity that we have not a life of Epaminondas by Plutarch; with his Bœotian patriotism, he would certainly have produced a pleasing biography; but how, with his superstitious notions, he would have managed it, we do not know. Every one of the Thebans knew that they should have to fight a battle against the Spartans, and with heavy hearts they set out against an enemy who had never yet been conquered in the field. But the confidence of Epaminondas was unshaken. Although himself armed against all superstition, he willingly allowed his soldiers to fortify themselves with their belief in supernatural signs, and did not oppose the spreading of the rumour among his troops, that the armour of Hercules had disappeared from his temple at Thebes, the birthplace of the god, and that consequently the god himself had taken up his arms to fight for his fellow-citizens. He made his preparations in full confidence, and did what was best under the circumstances. He foresaw that the Spartans would have the belief in their favour that their tactics were superior; for it was the general opinion that their tactics of deep masses were unconquerable, just as it was believed of the drilling regulations of Frederick II after the Seven Years’ War, when all the states ordered their troops to be trained according to it, imagining that thereby they could gain battles as he had done. Epaminondas, moreover, had to overcome the pride of the Spartans. Now, in order to meet their tactics and break their pride, he made an excellent disposition, employing the system of defeating masses by still greater masses. THE BATTLE OF LEUCTRA The Spartans were drawn up together with their allies. Epaminondas advanced in an oblique line, sending forward the left wing and keeping back the right; but he then ordered the left wing gradually to withdraw to the left, and thus formed on that wing an immense mass. With this he now made a most vigorous attack upon the right wing of the enemy, where the Spartans themselves were stationed. An ordinary general would have done the contrary, directing his force against the part from which no such powerful resistance was to be expected. Pelopidas conducted the attack, and ordered the mass to advance with immense rapidity. We do not know whether the statement is true, that the Thebans advanced fifty men deep. We have only the testimony of Xenophon, but see no reason for denying it. The troops must have been excellently trained, for notwithstanding the dense mass, they advanced with an alacrity as if they had been light troops, just as at present troops advance in an attack with the bayonet, and not according to the fashion of phalangites, who otherwise advanced with deliberate solemnity. The Spartans made a skilful move: in order not to be outflanked, they turned to the right, intending to throw their cavalry upon the right wing of the Bœotians. But the Bœotians made the attack with such precision and quickness, that being beforehand, they routed the Lacedæmonians and Spartans. There Cleombrotus fell, and the Spartans were as decidedly beaten as they well could be. The army did not indeed disperse, but it was absolutely impossible to find any pretext for saying that they had been victorious at any one point, a matter in which the Greeks were otherwise extremely inventive. It requires the partiality of a Xenophon, to leave it undecided as to whether the Spartans were defeated.[13] After the battle, they appear to have remained together for a time, but there was no one among them able to undertake the command. Meantime, as a report had reached Sparta, that the Bœotians offered resistance, another Spartan army, under Archidamus, a son of Agesilaus, had marched across the Isthmus, and was now approaching, but found the Spartans already defeated. All he could do was to collect the remains of the defeated army and to return with them. They seem to have effected their retreat under the protection of a truce. The only auxiliaries of the Thebans in the battle of Leuctra, had been the Thessalian troops of prince Jason of Pheræ: one of the phenomena of an age, when the old order of things has disappeared, and new institutions have been formed. If we believe Diodorus, the battle of Leuctra was the direct punishment for perjury: for Cleombrotus, it is said, had concluded a truce with the Thebans, but on the arrival of reinforcements from Peloponnesus, he broke it. One of the narratives must be untrue, either his or that of Xenophon; if the reinforcements under Archidamus arrived before the battle, Xenophon’s account must necessarily be given up. Cleombrotus may have had the peculiar misfortune, which happens to many a one who has been unsuccessful; all that is bad and disgraceful is attributed to him. What makes us still more inclined to disbelieve the account of Diodorus is, that if Archidamus had been present at the battle, it could not have been said that after the battle the Spartan army was without a commander. Diodorus probably too eagerly caught up an account which throws the blame upon the Spartans; it was invented either by Ephorus or by Callisthenes. The loss of the Spartans in the battle is very differently stated. According to one account, it amounted to 4000 men, which would include, besides the Lacedæmonians and Spartans, all the other allies; others mention only 1000 slain, which number would comprise the Lacedæmonians only; others again estimate their number at 1700; but this last number is erroneous, as has been correctly observed by Schneider in a note on Xenophon, and arose from a hasty glance at the numbers written in the characters of the Greek alphabet. We may take it for granted that not less than 1000 Lacedæmonians fell in the battle; but whether this number also comprised the Spartans or not, is a question which cannot be answered at all. But it is a fact, that the number of the Spartans was so extremely small, that the strength of the Spartan citizens as a body was completely paralysed by the loss of this battle. At one time there had been 9000 citizens, subsequently they are said to have amounted to 8000, but at this time there cannot have been 1000 real citizens, and at a still later time there were only 700. At Leuctra several hundreds of them fell. The ancient Spartan citizens were certainly not more numerous than the _nobili_ of Venice. They now had to feel the consequences of their wretched selfish policy, which had been so jealous in granting the franchise to the periœci, as to exclude a great many excellent men as unfit and unworthy, and had cut them off from every prospect of obtaining it. All Greece was startled at the news of this victory; it seemed impossible that Sparta should have been beaten in the field. The Spartans themselves were quite dejected. Their allies turned their backs upon them, and in a moment all the states of Peloponnesus, which had hitherto followed their standards, threw up their connection with them, and declared themselves independent; the Phocians, Locrians, and other allies beyond the Isthmus, immediately concluded a peace and alliance with the Bœotians. Not eighteen months passed away, perhaps it was even in the very winter after the battle of Leuctra, when the Bœotians invaded Peloponnesus. The Spartans were panic-stricken and retreated. The Bœotians announced themselves as the protectors of liberty, and there can be no doubt that the personal character and the eminent qualities of Epaminondas everywhere excited great confidence, while the national character of the Thebans would certainly have called forth the opposite feeling.[b] SIGNIFICANCE OF LEUCTRA The battle of Leuctra was certainly one of those battles which are decisive of the fate of countries and which give history a new turn. It not only brought to the fore a leader of singular magnificence at the head of a new and zealous nation, but it saw the complete collapse of Sparta. It made possible the first invasion of that country which, being without walls, had felt itself girt about with imperishable granite in the brawn of its soldiery. The other nations of Greece for all their hatred of Sparta had never succeeded in invading her. It was considered glory enough to sail around the Peloponnesus or to establish a stronghold upon some portion of the coast. It remained for a Theban newcomer, whom Xenophon does not even mention in his account of the battle of Leuctra, to march into Sparta and prove that her granite wall of soldiery was only a superstition that crumbled before the onslaught of that new Theban formation which modern foot-ball players have revived and called “the flying-wedge.” [Illustration: GREEK VASE (In the British Museum)] The battle of Leuctra is significant in showing that the course of Grecian empire was taking a northward way. In its passage, Thebes was only a stepping-stone to Macedonia. Once out of the little peninsula it had thus far dwelt in, Grecian ambition was to find itself upon an unlimited field of conquest whence it would turn, not logically to the West, where Rome was young and inglorious, but to the East, with its ancient and rotting civilisation and its hoarded opulence. For the present, however, it is enough to realise that Sparta has fallen never to lift her head again. Remembering all the better side of the Spartan life and the Spartan philosophy, one is disposed to feel a deep sense of regret. It seems to be a moment for elegy. But to certain historians who can see in Sparta at best only a stupid mountain of conservatism, and at worst a monster of hypocrisy, of cruelty and of inertia, it seems to be a time for rejoicing that a blot has been removed from the Grecian escutcheon. No one is more severe and no one more eloquent than Cox who says in his self-defence, “I have been charged with being over-severe to Sparta. I would gladly be convinced that I have been; but until I am so convinced, I cannot modify my words.” Then he launches forth into a glowing philippic from which we may quote a portion: “So ended the fight which left Epaminondas the first general of his age, and so fell a power which had fully earned its title to stability, if grinding tyranny and law-defying oppressiveness could confer such a right. The Lycurgean discipline, which crushed all that imparted grace and beauty of life at Athens, would indeed have been worth little if it had failed to produce the semblance of an unconcern which treated the more generous and tender instincts of humanity as the worst of vices. “Another act in the great drama had been thus played out; and the whole Hellenic world had at length learned that the promises of freedom made by Sparta had been from beginning to end a lie--a lie scantily veiled at first by the rhetoric of Brasidas, but put forth afterward in the nakedness of unblushing effrontery. Not a single pledge had she redeemed; not a single burden had been removed, not a single abuse redressed. She had hailed the downfall of Athens as the beginning of a golden age for Hellas, and in order to realise it she had aided and abetted her victorious generals in setting up everywhere societies of murderers. Her enemies were prostrate; and she trampled on them without a touch of commiseration. Her allies were too much overpowered by the consciousness of their inferiority really to dispute her will; and she refused to share her spoils with the partners of her robberies. She had put down the Athenian empire with the courts, which, at the least, offered to the free or the subject allies the means of redress for wrongs inflicted or received; and by way of improving matters she had, with gigantic cruelty, let loose upon them a crowd of rapacious and lustful tyrants against whom she would hear no complaint. “In short the supremacy of Sparta had been from first to last the supremacy of high-handed violence and wanton tyranny. Nor could it have been anything else but what it was. Much has been said of the golden opportunities which the course of events offered to Sparta, and which she deliberately threw away, opportunities presented first in the unlimited freedom of action which followed the seizure of the Athenian fleet at Ægospotami, and again when the return of the Cyrean Greeks placed her at the head of a splendid army in her involuntary conflict with the Persian king. But in truth it is absurd to speak of opportunities of feasting on the loveliest of landscapes, to the man who has extinguished in himself all sense of beauty, of opportunities for generous action to the man whose whole life exhibits nothing but the working of unvarying and consistent selfishness. Whether after Ægospotami, or after the return of the Ten Thousand, it was impossible for Sparta to do anything towards establishing a real Panhellenic union, in other words, a real Greek nation, without reverting in greater or less degree to the works of Athens. To go back to any such system would be for the Spartans what the changing of his skin would be to the Ethiopian, or of his spots to the leopard.” Before returning to the crescent glory of Epaminondas, it is necessary to pause to note the sudden phenomenon of a singular genius, Jason of Pheræ, who flares up and overawes Greece only to expire at once. He is a striking personage, and important as a forewarning flash of the irresistible storm rising in the North.[a] JASON OF THESSALY Intelligence of the fatal blow at Leuctra, carried to Lacedæmon, was borne with much real magnanimity, and with all that affectation of unconcern which the institutions of Lycurgus commanded. It happened to be the last day of the festival called the Naked Games; and the chorus of men was on the stage, before the assembled people, when the officer charged with the despatches arrived. The ephors were present, as their official duty required, and to them the despatches were delivered. Without interrupting the entertainment they communicated the names of the slain to their relations, with an added admonition, that the women should avoid that clamorous lamentation which was usual, and bear the calamity in silence. On the morrow all the relations of the slain appeared as usual in public, with a deportment of festivity and triumph, while the few kinsmen of the survivors, who showed themselves abroad, carefully marked in their appearance humiliation and dejection. It was a large proportion of the best strength of the commonwealth that, after so great a loss in the battle, remained in a danger not in the moment to be calculated. Every exertion therefore was to be made to save it. Of six moras, into which for military purposes the Lacedæmonian people were divided, the men of four, within thirty years after boyhood (such was the term, meaning perhaps the age of about fourteen), had marched under Cleombrotus; those however being excepted who bore at the time any public office. The ephors now ordered the remaining two moras to march, together with those of the absent moras, to the fortieth year from boyhood, and no longer allowing exception for those in office. The command, Agesilaus being not yet sufficiently recovered to take it, was committed to his son Archidamus. Requisitions were at the same time hastened off for the assistance of the allies: and the Lacedæmonian interest, or the interest adverse to the pretensions and apprehended purposes of Thebes, prevailed so in Tegea, Mantinea, Phlius, Corinth, Sicyon, and throughout the Achæan towns, that from all those places the contingent of troops was forwarded with alacrity. Meanwhile the leading Thebans, meaning to pay a compliment that might promote their interest in Athens, had hastened thither information of their splendid success. But the impression made by this communication was not favourable to their views: on the contrary, it showed that the jealousy, formerly entertained so generally among the Athenians towards Lacedæmon, was already transferred to Thebes. Thus the incessant quarrels among the Grecian republics, source indeed of lasting glory to some, brought however, with their decision, neither lasting power nor lasting quiet to any; but, proving ever fertile in new discord, had a constant tendency to weaken the body of the nation. Relief to Lacedæmon in its pressing danger came, not from its own exertion, not from the interest which all the Grecian republics had in preventing Thebes from acquiring that overbearing dominion with which in a Lacedæmon had oppressed them, but from a power newly risen, or revived, in a corner of the country whence, for centuries, Greece had not been accustomed to apprehend anything formidable. Jason of Pheræ in Thessaly was one of those extraordinary men in whom superior powers of mind and body sometimes meet. He was formed to be a hero had he lived with Achilles: and as a politician he could have contended with Themistocles or Pericles. He had the advantage of being born to eminence in his own city, one of the principal of Thessaly; and he appears to have acquired there a powerful popularity. Little informed of the early part of his life, we find him mentioned as general of the Pheræans about six years before the battle of Leuctra, and commanding a force sent to assist Neogenes, chief of Histiæa in Eubœa. In the contests of faction in Thessaly it was become common to employ mercenary troops. Jason excelled in diligence in training such troops, in courage and skill in commanding them, and in the arts by which he attached them to his interest. Of the state of Thessaly at this time altogether we may form some judgment from what the contemporary historian [Xenophon] has related of Pharsalus, one of its most considerable cities. The leaders of the factions by which Pharsalus was torn, weary at length of ruinous contest, came to an extraordinary agreement. Fortunately they had a fellow-citizen, Polydamas, eminent throughout Thessaly for high birth, large possessions, and that splendid hospitality for which the Thessalians were distinguished, but yet more singularly eminent for integrity. To this man the Pharsalians committed the command of their citadel and the exclusive management of their public revenue, giving him altogether a princely authority. In so extraordinary an office Polydamas had the good fortune to succeed in everything, except in opposing the ambition of the too politic and powerful Jason. Tyrant or patriot, as you will, in his own city of Pheræ, Jason had proceeded to bring most of the Thessalian cities, some by policy, some by arms, under that kind of subjection which so commonly in Greece was entitled confederacy. The strength of Pharsalus, directed by the abilities of Polydamas, was exerted to protect them. But Pharsalus itself was threatened, when Jason sent a proposal for a conference with the chief, which was accepted. In this conference the Pheræan avowed his “intention to reduce Pharsalus, and the towns dependent upon Pharsalus, to dependency upon himself;” but declared that “it was his wish to effect this rather by negotiation than by violence, and with benefit to Polydamas, rather than to his injury. It was in the power of Polydamas,” he said, “to persuade the Pharsalians; but that it was not in his power to defend them, the result of all his recent efforts sufficiently showed. For himself, he was resolved to hold the first situation in Greece; the second he offered to Polydamas. What their advantages would be, if a political union took place, Polydamas as well as himself could estimate. “The cavalry of Thessaly was six thousand strong: the heavy-armed infantry exceeded ten thousand; the numerous inhabitants of the surrounding mountains, subjects of the Thessalian cities, were excellent targeteers. In addition to this force then he had six thousand mercenaries in his pay; a body such as, for choice of men, and perfection of discipline, no commonwealth of Greece possessed. But connection with Athens did not suit his views; for the Athenians affected to be the first maritime power of Greece, and he meant to make Thessaly the first. The three necessaries to naval power were timber, hands, and revenue. With the former, Athens was supplied from Macedonia, which lay much more conveniently for the supply of Thessaly. With the second their Penestian subjects were a resource to which Athens had nothing equal.” (The Penestæ were a conquered people, reduced to a kind of vassalage under the Thessalians, for whom they performed menial and laborious offices, but were not held in a slavery so severe and degrading as the helots of Laconia, for we find them admitted to that military service, the cavalry, which was generally reckoned among the Greeks to assort only with rank above the lowest citizens.) It had been a practice of the Thessalian republics, always acknowledging some common bonds of union, to appoint, for extraordinary occasions a common military commander, a captain-general of the Thessalian nation, with the title of Tagus. To this high rank and great command Jason aspired, and the approbation of the Pharsalian government, it appears, was necessary. But he was far from so confining his views. Even the command of all Greece did not suffice for his ambition. “That all Greece might be reduced under their dominion,” he observed to Polydamas, “appeared probable from what he had already stated: but he conceived the conquest of the Persian empire to be a still easier achievement; the practical proof afforded by the return of the Cyrean Greeks, and by the great progress made with a very small force by Agesilaus, leaving this no longer a matter of mere speculation.” Polydamas, in reply, admitted the justness of Jason’s reasoning; but alleged his own connection with Lacedæmon, which he would at no rate betray, as an objection that appeared to him insuperable. Jason, commending his fidelity to his engagements, freely consented that he should go to Lacedæmon and state his circumstances; and if he could not obtain succour which might give him reasonable hope of successful resistance, then he would stand clearly excused, both to his allies and to his fellow-citizens, in accepting the proposal offered him. Polydamas, returning then into Thessaly, requested and obtained from Jason, that he should hold under his own peculiar command the citadel of Pharsalus, which had been, in a manner so honourable to him, entrusted to his charge. For security of his fidelity to his new engagements, he surrendered his children as hostages. The Pharsalians, persuaded to acquiesce, were admitted to terms of peace and friendship by Jason, who was then elected without opposition tagus of Thessaly. The first object of Jason, in his high office, was to inquire concerning the force which the whole country, now acknowledging him its constitutional military commander, could furnish; and it was found to amount to more than eight thousand horse, full twenty thousand heavy-armed foot, and targeteers enough, in the contemporary historian’s phrase, for war with all the world. His next care was the revenue, which might enable him to give energy to this force. Jason was ambitious, but not avaricious, and he desired to have willing subjects. He required therefore from the dependent states around Thessaly only that tribute which had been formerly assessed under the tagus Scopas. At the time of the battle of Leuctra, Jason was already this formidable potentate, and he was then in alliance with Thebes. When therefore the Thebans sent to the Athenian people an account of that splendid action, they did not fail to communicate the intelligence also to the tagus of Thessaly; and they added a request for his co-operation towards the complete overthrow of the tyranny, so long exercised by the Lacedæmonians over the Greek nation. The circumstances were altogether such as Jason was not likely to look upon with indifference. Having ordered a fleet to be equipped, he put himself at the head of his mercenaries, his standing army, and taking the cavalry in the moment about him, he began his march. He reached Bœotia without loss; showing, as the contemporary historian observes, how despatch may often do more than force. Jason, the ally of Thebes, was connected, not indeed by political alliance, but by public and hereditary hospitality, with Lacedæmon. Pleased with the humiliation of his hosts, he was not desirous that his allies should become too powerful. On reaching the Theban camp therefore, demurring to the proposal of the Theban generals for an immediate attack upon the Lacedæmonians, he became the counsellor of peace; and, acting as mediator, he quickly succeeded so far as to procure a truce. The Lacedæmonians hastened to use the opportunity for reaching a place of safety. Jason, after having thus acted as arbiter of Greece, hastened his return to Thessaly. In his way through the hostile province of Phocis, with leisure to exercise his vengeance, for which he had not before wanted strength, he confined it to the little town of Hyampolis, whose suburbs and territory he wasted, killing many of the people. The Lacedæmonian colony of Heraclea was then to be passed. He had served Lacedæmon at Leuctra because he thought it for his interest; and he would, without scruple, or fear, injure Lacedæmon, in its colony of Heraclea, because the prosperity of that colony would obstruct his views. Heraclea was most critically situated for commanding the only easily practicable communication between the countries northward and southward. He therefore demolished the fortifications. [Illustration: GREEK ARCHER] Decidedly now the greatest potentate of Greece, powerful, not by his own strength alone, but by his numerous alliances, while on all sides his alliance was courted, Jason proposed to display his magnificence at the approaching Pythian games. He had commanded all the republics which owned the authority of the tagus of Thessaly to feed oxen, sheep, goats, and swine for the sacrifices; and he proposed the reward of a golden crown for the state which should produce the finest ox to lead the herd for the god. By a very easy impost on them severally, he collected more than a thousand oxen, and ten thousand smaller cattle. He appointed a day, a little before the festival, for assembling the military force of Thessaly; and the expectation in Greece was that he would assume to himself the presidency. Apprehension arose that he might seize the treasure of Delphi; insomuch that the Delphians consulted their oracle for directions from the god on the occasion. The answer, according to report, was similar to what had been given to their forefathers when Xerxes invaded Greece, “that the care of the treasure would be the god’s own concern.” Before the period for the splendid display arrived, this extraordinary man, after a review of the Pheræan cavalry, sitting to give audience to any who might have occasion to speak to him, was assassinated by seven youths, who approached with the pretence of stating a matter in dispute among them. The attending guards, or friends of the tagus, killed one of them on the spot, and another as he was mounting his horse; but the rest so profited from the confusion of the moment, and the opportunities which circumstances throughout Greece commonly afforded, that they effected their escape. What was the provocation to this murder, or the advantage proposed from it, we are not informed. No symptom appears of any political view: no attempt at a revolution is noticed by the historian; but what he mentions to have followed marks the popularity of Jason among the Thessalians, and also the deficient ideas, equally of morality and true policy, generally prevailing through Greece. The brothers of the deceased, Polydorus and Polyphron, were appointed jointly to succeed to the dignity of tagus: the assassins could find no refuge in Thessaly; but in various cities of other parts of Greece they were received with honour: proof, says the contemporary historian, how vehemently it was apprehended that Jason would succeed in his purpose of making himself sovereign of the country. Such was the unfortunate state of Greece: in the weakness of its little republics men were compelled to approve means the most nefarious, where other prospect failed, by which their fears were relieved, and present safety procured. Thus assassination became so generally creditable, or at least so little uncreditable, that hope of safety, through speed in flight, was always afforded to the perpetrators.[e] VON STERN ON THE THEBAN POLICY In Lachmann, Curtius, and others, we are confronted by the notion that Epaminondas began the War of Liberation against Sparta as a Greek, and not in the interest of Bœotia alone, and that the weal or woe of the Greek nation as a whole was the leading motive of all that he did or left undone. Since the Bœotian hegemony (regarded in this aspect as the outcome of the noblest Panhellenic aspirations) is to our historians the pole and focus of their view of the subsequent period, we can easily see the paramount importance of an acceptance or denial of such aspirations for the common good of Greece, in forming an opinion upon this portion of history. It therefore becomes a duty to examine the question more minutely. It has never been contested that up to the time of the battle of Leuctra the Thebans had never had opportunity or occasion to turn their attention and their energies to a wider field for patriotism. What iron persistency they were compelled to exercise, what struggles they had to endure, in order to maintain their own existence and to realise the local unity for which they strove! It is not probable, not possible, that during these years of wrestling for deliverance from Spartan supremacy, during a struggle of which the issue perpetually hung in suspense, they should have cherished designs for the benefit of Greece as a whole. The deliberate purpose with which they strove straight towards the end in view, without turning aside to the right hand or to the left, proves how keen was the foresight, how determinate the programme, of the Theban leaders, and shows at the same time how little place they gave to idle dreams and illusions, which invariably involve some neglect of the needs of the moment. The battle of Leuctra, therefore, marks the momentous turning-point in the eyes of the scholars above referred to. “The victory,” says Curtius, “was to be regarded as a national act from which all Greeks were to derive benefit,”--hence the embassies sent from the battle-field to Athens and Thessaly. But can the wish to be regarded as the benefactor of all Hellas really have been the true motive of this despatch of heralds? Thebes had won the victory indeed, but the hostile army was far from being annihilated and still occupied the country in formidable numbers. Isolated and without confederates, Thebes could scarcely hope to secure the fruits of her victory unless she could now win powerful allies. The attitude of Athens was naturally of the first importance. It was essential for Thebes to frustrate a conjunction between Sparta and Athens, and, if possible, to assure herself of the support of her powerful neighbour. The temper of Athens was not propitious to such endeavours. If the knowledge that peace was of the first necessity to themselves rendered the Athenians averse to incurring fresh hardships for the sake of Sparta, they felt even less obligation to take up the cause of Thebes. The embassy was fruitless. The mission to Thessaly was more successful, for Jason of Pheræ promptly prepared to come and render assistance. The Thebans did not dare to attack the enemy’s camp before his arrival; and when he appeared in Bœotia with an army they entreated him to undertake the assault in concert with them. Even then the mere mention on his part of the difficulties in the way was enough to divert the Thebans from their project and induce them to accede to his proposals for mediation. We see that they were far from feeling themselves masters of the situation; nothing short of the withdrawal of the Spartan army seemed to them to insure the security of their own position, which was the first-fruits of their victory. [Sidenote: [371-370 B.C.]] Moreover, Thebes had next to overcome the last resistance to Bœotian unity within her own borders. Thespiæ and Orchomenos had to be coerced before a further advance could be thought of. The next steps were naturally taken with a view to a union amongst the states of middle Greece; and by compacts with Phocis, Locris, Ætolia, and Acarnania, which acknowledged the right of the conqueror of Leuctra to be the head and chief of the new amphictyony, Thebes strove to attain the position to which her success had given her the best title. But it seems in the highest degree improbable that in all these proceedings Thebes had the interests of the whole of Greece in view, that she cherished the idea of a national uprising against Spartan oppression, that by the extension of dominion for which she strove she desired to make good the wrong done to other Greeks in earlier days by Sparta, and that, as Curtius supposes, the project for the restoration of Messenia had already been definitely conceived. The Theban leaders could not be blind to the fact that the struggle with Sparta had by no means come to an end with the battle of Leuctra, but the political conditions of the time gave them as yet no chance of forming definite resolutions and plans as to how the end was to be brought about. Curtius undoubtedly goes too far when he assumes that at that time Epaminondas was sole master of the situation and controlled the destinies of the Greeks. The Thebans did not even venture to transfer the struggle to Peloponnesian soil and denude Bœotia of her troops, on account of the menacing attitude assumed by Jason of Pheræ in the north. The tyrant was ostensibly the ally of the Thebans, but his ambitions and independent schemes were coming into ever greater prominence. As he retired from Bœotia after the battle of Leuctra he had surprised Heraclea and destroyed the walls of the city; he would have no one able to bar his free entry into Hellas. Now, in the summer of 370, he was equipping a magnificent army to attend the Pythian games at Delphi. His object in so doing was not merely to make a display of his kingly power. Delphi, the seat and centre of the amphictyones, had always been the connecting link between Thessaly and the other Greek states. By the splendid homage he offered to the god in his sacrificial procession, Jason intended to renew the old obsolete relations; and relying upon the fact that the Thessalian races had a majority in the ancient amphictyonic council, to usurp the guardianship of the oracle and the management of the games, and to secure for himself an influence in Greek politics proportionate to his power. The great body of troops which was to accompany him in this procession sufficiently emphasised these claims and demands. The northern Greeks were not unaware of the danger that threatened them--neither in all likelihood were the Thebans. Xenophon’s narrative amply proves with what apprehension they watched his steps, and how great was the disquietude amongst the dwellers in northern Greece. Jason’s sudden death was to the Hellenes the deliverance from a nightmare, and the fact that his murderers were honoured as saviours from tyranny and oppression, is an unmistakable token of the temper aroused in Greece by his last enterprise. But it was absolutely impossible for Thebes and the league of middle Greece to wage war upon Sparta in the Peloponnesus while Jason was planning his march to Delphi. They could not withdraw troops from Bœotia without incurring the risk that he would make use of the circumstance to give the fullest scope to his ambitious designs.[g] A CONGRESS AT ATHENS The ill-humour with which the news of the battle of Leuctra was received at Athens seems to have arisen merely out of the old jealousy and animosity with which the Athenians had been used to regard their northern neighbours, and which revived as soon as the affairs of Thebes became prosperous. For in the event itself, considered with respect to their own interests, they could have seen nothing to deplore. And they proceeded without delay to take advantage of the shock which it had given to the influence of Sparta. It seems to have been the prevailing opinion throughout Greece, and not least at Sparta itself, that the Spartan power had suffered a fatal blow; and Xenophon intimates that the Athenians were surprised to find that any of the Peloponnesian states still adhered to the ancient chief of their confederacy. They believed that the time had now come when Athens might step into the place of Sparta, as guardian of the Peace of Antalcidas, and might transfer all the advantages which her rival had reaped from that title to herself. They therefore assembled a congress in their own city, to which they invited deputies not only from their old allies, but from all the states of Greece which were willing to adopt the Peace of Antalcidas as the basis of their mutual relations. It seems to have been attended by many, if not by most members of the Peloponnesian confederacy; and the resolution to which it came in the oath by which each state was to ratify the compact was thus expressed: “I will abide by the treaty sent down by the king, and by the decrees of the Athenians and their allies, and if an attack be made on any of the states which take this oath, I will succour it with all my might.” So that Athens found herself able to obtain better security for the execution of the treaty, than had been given in the last congress held for the like purpose at Sparta, where none of the parties had been bound to enforce its observance by arms: and yet the engagement for mutual defence now involved those who entered into it in danger of a contest both with Sparta and Thebes. Elis would gladly have united herself to an association which would separate, and might protect her, from Sparta; but she would not resign her claims to the sovereignty of the Triphylian towns. The congress on the other hand determined that every town, small or great, should be alike independent, and commissioners were sent round to exact an oath to this effect from the magistrates of each state. It was taken, Xenophon says, by all but the Eleans. MANTINEA RESTORED We should have been glad to know which of the Peloponnesian states acceded to this confederacy. But all the information that Xenophon gives as to this point only enables us to conclude that the Mantineans at least were of the number. One of the first effects of the battle of Leuctra seems to have been a revolution which overthrew the Mantinean aristocracy; and the declaration of the congress at Athens--though it expressed the very same principle on which the Spartans had professed to act when they scattered the Mantineans over their four villages--was now interpreted by the democratical party as a license to restore their political unity, and to rebuild their city; and the work was immediately begun. The Spartan government felt that the restoration of Mantinea would prove to all Greece that it was no longer formidable even to its nearest neighbours; but, in its anxiety to escape this humiliation, it resorted to a step which still more clearly betrayed its weakness, and showed how much it was dispirited by its recent reverse. Agesilaus, who had now recovered from his illness, was sent to use all his hereditary influence at Mantinea to stop the work; and he was instructed to undertake that, if it was only deferred for the present, he would procure the consent of the Spartan government, and even some help towards defraying the expense of the building. He was not allowed to lay this proposal before the popular assembly, but was informed that the decree of the people rendered it necessary to proceed without delay. Though he felt this repulse as a personal affront, and though it set the power of the state at defiance, it was not thought expedient at Sparta to have recourse to arms, and the treaty last concluded with Athens served as a plea for acquiescence. For it was now admitted that the independence of Mantinea had been violated, when it was dismembered for the sake of the aristocratical party. Some of the other Arcadian towns sent workmen to assist the Mantineans, and Elis contributed three talents [£600 or $3000] to the cost of the fortification. The new city was so constructed as to be secure from such attacks as had proved fatal to that which it replaced. Peloponnesus had for some years been violently agitated by political convulsions, and had been the scene of incessant struggles between the two leading parties, the friends of aristocratical and of democratical institutions. It seems that the principles on which the Peace of Antalcidas was professedly founded had encouraged the partisans of democracy to hope that they might establish their ascendency, wherever they were the strongest, without any obstruction from Sparta. Her conduct towards Phlius and Mantinea must have checked these hopes; yet they seem to have revived when the new confederacy between Thebes and Athens, after the recovery of the Cadmea and the revolt of several maritime states compelled Sparta to observe more moderation towards her remaining allies. In many places the aristocratical party was overpowered, and suffered severe retaliation for the oppression it had exercised during the period of its domination. But these triumphs were only the beginning of a series of fierce and bloody contests. The exiles were continually on the watch for an opportunity of regaining what they had lost, and the attempt, whether it succeeded or failed, commonly ended in a massacre. The oligarchical exiles of Phigalea, having seized a fortress near the town, surprised it during a festival, while the multitude was assembled in the theatre, and made a great slaughter among the defenceless crowd, though they were at last forced to retreat, and take refuge in Sparta. The Corinthian exiles, who had found shelter at Argos, were baffled in a similar enterprise, and killed one another to avoid falling into the hands of the opposite party, which immediately instituted a rigorous inquiry at Corinth, and condemned numbers to death or exile on the charge of abetting the conspiracy. Like scenes took place at Megara, Sicyon, and Phlius. The confluence of democratical exiles from other cities tended to keep up a state of constant unnatural excitement at Argos; and there were demagogues who took advantage of it to instigate the multitude against the wealthier citizens into a conspiracy for self-defence. Arrests were multiplied, until the number of the prisoners amounted to twelve hundred; and the populace, impatient of legal delays, arming itself with clubs, rose upon them, and massacred them all: this bloody execution became memorable under the name of the _scytalism_.[14] The demagogues who had excited the frenzy now endeavoured to restrain it from further excesses; but the attempt only turned it against themselves, and most of them shared the fate of their victims. Their blood seemed to propitiate the infernal powers: the flame, no longer supplied with fuel, expired; and tranquillity was restored. It must be considered as an indication of a remarkable superiority in the Athenian character and institutions over those of Argos, that under similar circumstances, in the affair of the Hermes busts, when religious and political fanaticism combined their influence to madden the people, no such spectacle was witnessed at Athens. THE ARCADIAN REVOLUTION [Illustration: GREEK SOLDIER WITH MACE] With a territory more extensive than any other region of Peloponnesus, peopled by a hardy race, proud of its ancient origin and immemorial possession of the land, and of its peculiar religious traditions, Arcadia--the Greek Switzerland--had never possessed any weight in the affairs of the nation; the land only served as a thoroughfare for hostile armies, and sent forth its sons to recruit the forces of foreign powers--Greek or barbarian--and to shed their blood in quarrels in which they had no concern. The battle of Leuctra opened a prospect of carrying it into effect. A Mantinean named Lycomedes, a man of large fortune and of the highest birth in his native city, seems to have been either the author or the most active mover of the project which was now formed, and which was at least partly executed in the course of the same year (371). The object was to unite the Arcadian people in one body, yet so as not to destroy the independence of the particular states; and with this view it was proposed to found a metropolis, to institute a national council which should be invested with supreme authority in foreign affairs, particularly with regard to peace and war, and to establish a military force for the protection of the public safety. And though there is no reason to doubt that Lycomedes and those who shared his views were chiefly desirous of rescuing their country from a degrading subjection to her imperious neighbour, and of elevating her to an honourable station among the Greek commonwealths, they undoubtedly did not overlook the accession of strength which would result from this event to their party, in its contest with its domestic adversaries. Their plan could not fail to be agreeable to the Thebans, just in proportion as it was alarming to Sparta; and it was very early communicated to Epaminondas. Within a few months after the battle of Leuctra, a meeting of Arcadians from all the principal towns was held, to deliberate on the measure; and under its decree a body of colonists, collected from various quarters, proceeded to found a new city, which was to be the seat of the general government, and was called Megalepolis, or Megalopolis (the Great City). The city was designed on a very large scale, and the magnitude of the public buildings corresponded to its extent; the theatre was the most spacious in Greece. The population was to be drawn from a great number of the most ancient Arcadian towns. Pausanias gives a list of forty which were required to contribute to it. The greater part of them appear to have been entirely deserted by their inhabitants; others retained a remnant of their population, but in the condition of villages subject to Megalopolis. Trapezus made an obstinate resistance; and its citizens who survived the struggle preferred quitting their native land to changing their abode in it, and having found means for embarking for the Euxine, were hospitably received as kinsmen in the city of the same name. Lycosura--which boasted of being the most ancient city under the sun--was spared out of respect for the sanctity of one of its temples. The districts which were thus drained of their population never recovered it, and were left in a great measure uncultivated. The most interesting subject connected with this event, the constitution under which Arcadia was to be united, is unfortunately involved in the greatest obscurity. Megalopolis was the place appointed for the deliberation of the supreme council of the Arcadian body. But of this council we only know that it was commonly described by the name of the Ten Thousand--an appellation which raises a number of perplexing questions. For that it was a representative assembly, and was not intended to consist only of Megalopolitans, is clear both from the terms in which it is spoken of, and from the nature of the case: this would have been a privilege which the other cities would never have conceded to a colony formed out of the most insignificant townships. On the other hand, that so numerous a body should have been collected, either at stated times or as often as occasion required, from the other parts of Arcadia, is scarcely less hard to understand. Ten commissioners were appointed to superintend the first settlement of the colony, and were honoured with the title of founders. Two of them, Lycomedes and Opeleas, were Mantineans; two, Timon and Proxenus, were leaders of the democratical party at Tegea. Of the rest, two came from Clitor, two from Mænalus, and as many from the Parrhasian cantons. As there was reason to apprehend that Sparta might attempt to interrupt the work in its beginning, Epaminondas sent Pammenes, one of his ablest officers, with one thousand choice troops, to guard and assist the colonists; and hence he also might be looked upon as one of the founders; but it does not appear that he had the foremost, much less, as was sometimes contended, an exclusive claim to that title. It was not however at Megalopolis that any opposition was offered to the undertaking; but in other places violent contests arose between the advocates and the adversaries of the new measure. It was at Tegea, the chief seat of Spartan and aristocratical influence in Arcadia, that the hardest struggle took place. Though Proxenus and Timon had been deputed as founders of Megalopolis, Stasippus and his partisans did not cease to exert their utmost efforts to counteract the plan of the union, and to keep Tegea in its ancient state of subserviency to Sparta,--or, as Xenophon expresses it, probably in their language, in the enjoyment of its hereditary institutions. Proxenus and another democratical leader named Callibius,--conscious, though they were outvoted in the oligarchical councils, that the majority of the citizens was on their side,--appealed to arms. Stasippus and some of his party were overtaken. Their enemies having induced them to surrender, conveyed them bound on a wagon to Tegea, where, after a mock trial, in which the Mantineans assisted as judges, they put them all to death. Their surviving partisans, to the number of eight hundred fled to Sparta. The safety of Sparta seemed to require that she should not passively submit to the blow thus struck at the last remains of her influence in Arcadia, and among the Tegean refugees were several private friends of Agesilaus, and probably of other leading Spartans, who solicited redress and revenge against the Mantineans and their political adversaries. The interference of Mantinea in the civil feuds of Tegea was construed as a violation of the principle which had been recognised in all the treaties concluded since the Peace of Antalcidas, and therefore afforded a fair colour for taking up arms: and war was accordingly declared against Mantinea on this ground. But the strongest motive by which the Spartan government was urged to this step, appears to have been the necessity which it felt for some effort which should restore confidence and cheerfulness at home. For notwithstanding the heroic countenance with which the news of the battle of Leuctra had been received, it had made an impression of deep despondency from which the city had not yet recovered. After the return of the defeated army, a grave question had arisen as to the manner in which the soldiers should be treated. SPARTAN INTOLERANCE OF COWARDICE According to the precedents of earlier times, the Spartan who saved his life by flight was subject to the loss of all civil privileges, and to marks of ignominy; and we have seen that it was thought necessary to inflict a temporary degradation on the prisoners who had surrendered--with the permission of their superiors--at Sphacteria. There were some who held that the dishonour which the Spartan arms had incurred at Leuctra could only be effaced by a rigorous enforcement of the ancient martial law. But Agesilaus, and probably most other members of the government, saw that such severity would be now very ill-timed; and according to Plutarch he was empowered to frame some new regulations on this head; but instead of any formal innovation, simply proposed that the law should be suffered to sleep for this once, without prejudice to its application on future occasions. It was, however, on this account the more desirable to divert the thoughts of the people from the recent disaster by a fresh expedition; and Agesilaus was now sufficiently recovered from his illness to take the command. Xenophon says that he marched with one mora, probably meaning only the Spartan division of his forces. Neither side however was willing to fight: Agesilaus, because his first care was to husband the strength of Sparta; the Arcadians, because they expected soon to be joined by a Theban army, for they were informed by the Eleans that Thebes had borrowed ten talents from Elis for the purpose of the meditated expedition. Perhaps the same intelligence increased the anxiety of Agesilaus to return home. But that his retreat might not appear to be the effect of fear, he remained three days before Mantinea, and ravaged the plain; and then marched back with the utmost speed. Still the honour of Sparta had been vindicated, and the fallen spirits of his countrymen were cheered by the outcome of the events in the vicinity of Mantinea. THE THEBANS IN THE PELOPONNESUS The Thebans were in fact advancing with a powerful army, and not long after joined the Arcadians--who employed the interval after the retreat of Agesilaus in an inroad into the Heræan territory--at Mantinea. The victory of Leuctra had so completely changed their position, that they had now the forces of almost all northern Greece, except Attica, at their command. Even Phocis, though as hostile as ever, was compelled to aid them against her late allies. All the Eubœan towns, the Locrians both of the east and west, the Acarnanians, the Trachinian Heraclea and the Malians, contributed to the army; and Thessaly furnished cavalry and targeteers. The whole force assembled at Mantinea amounted according to Diodorus to fifty thousand, according to Plutarch to seventy thousand men, of whom forty thousand were heavy-armed. The professed object of the expedition was to protect Mantinea, and as it now was no longer in danger, and the season--it was mid-winter--was unfavourable to military operations, several of the Theban commanders proposed to return. They expected to find all the passes, which were naturally difficult, strongly guarded, and could not at once reconcile themselves to the thought of seeking an enemy, who till lately had been deemed almost invincible, in his own country, where he would be animated by the strongest motives to extraordinary exertions. Their apprehensions were only overcome when they received invitations and assurances of support from Laconia itself, and were encouraged by some of the provincials, who came for that purpose to the camp, to expect that the appearance of their army would produce a general revolt of the subject population, which it was said had already refused to obey the orders of the government when it was summoned to the defence of Sparta. They were also informed that one of the principal passes, which led through Caryæ and Sellasia into the vale of the Eurotas, was quite unguarded; and some of the inhabitants of Caryæ offered themselves as guides, and were ready to pledge their lives for the truth of their assertions. The invasion was then unanimously resolved upon. To distract the enemy’s attention, and to accelerate their own movements, the invaders divided their forces so as to penetrate into Laconia simultaneously by different routes. Sellasia was the place of rendezvous appointed for all the four divisions. The Thebans and the Eleans appear to have met with no resistance. The Argives found the passes guarded by a body of troops consisting partly of Bœotian refugees, commanded by a Spartan named Alexander who, however, was overpowered, and fell with two hundred of his men. The pass of the Sciritis might also have been occupied, and from its natural strength it was believed that the Arcadians would never have been able to force it; but Ischolaus, a Spartan who was posted near it at the village of Ium with a garrison of neodamode troops, and about four hundred of the exiled Tegeans, instead of securing the pass, determined to make his stand in the village, where he was surrounded by the enemy, and slain with almost every one of his men. The four divisions then effected their junction without further opposition, and after having plundered and burnt Sellasia, descended to the banks of the Eurotas, and encamped in a sanctuary of Apollo at the entrance of the plain of Sparta. The next day they pursued their march along the left bank of the river, which was swollen by the winter rains, until they reached the bridge which crossed it directly over against the city. A body of armed troops which appeared on the other side deterred them from attempting the passage; and they proceeded, still keeping the left bank, to plunder and destroy the dwellings which were thickly scattered in the neighbourhood of the capital, and which from Xenophon’s description, who says they were full of good things, seem to have been chiefly villas of the more opulent Spartans, and were probably better stored and furnished than their houses in the town. It was the first time that fires kindled by a hostile army had ever been seen from Sparta, since it had been in the possession of the Dorian race; and the grief and consternation excited by the spectacle in the women, and the elder part of the men, were proportioned not merely to its strangeness, but to the pride and confidence with which the traditions of so many centuries had taught them to regard their soil as inviolate, and their city, though unwalled, as impregnable. In this emergency all eyes were turned upon Agesilaus. As he was fully aware of the danger, so he clearly perceived the course which could alone afford a prospect of deliverance. To remain strictly on the defensive, and in case of an attack to take advantage of the inequalities of the ground, and of the position of the streets and buildings in the outskirts of the town, and in the meanwhile to maintain tranquillity and obedience within, was all that was left to be done; and this, with the means at his disposal, demanded all his abilities. The Spartans, when distributed over the wide range which they had to defend, made so poor a show that the government thought it necessary to resort to an expedient which had been adopted before on less urgent occasions: to arm as many of the helots as could be induced to enlist by a promise of emancipation. And notwithstanding the atrocious purpose which had been cloaked by a similar proposal in former times, more than six thousand volunteers now presented themselves. Their services were accepted with trembling, and employed with continued distrust, until the arrival of some foreign auxiliaries gave a little more security to the government. Not many days after, a small force, probably less than six thousand strong, collected from Corinth, Sicyon, Pellene, Epidaurus, Trœzen, Hermione, and Halia, having been transported in succession over the Argolic Gulf to Brasiæ on the coast of Laconia, crossed the mountains, and, though the enemy was encamped only two or three miles off, made its way into the city. In the meanwhile the invading army, having ravaged the eastern side of the plain till it came over against Amyclæ, then crossed the river, and turned its front toward Sparta. As the greatest breadth of the plain lies between the river and the foot of Taygetus, still more spoil was found here than on the other side, and this with the greater part of the allies was the single object of attention. The Theban generals alone appear to have been able to prevent their troops from ranging at large in quest of plunder, and to have taken precautions against a surprise from the city. What Epaminondas most desired was to draw the enemy into an engagement, and he is said to have tried the effect of a taunting challenge on Agesilaus, whose temper was not always proof against provocation. But on this occasion he controlled his own feelings, and calmed the general excitement by his authority and example. The Spartans had a small body of cavalry, very inferior, not only in numbers but in condition, to that of the allies; it was however drawn up on the level south of the city. Its appearance served rather to heighten than to check the confidence of the assailants. But an adjacent building, which was consecrated by tradition as the house of the tutelary twins, concealed about three hundred of the young Spartan infantry, who, when the enemy drew near, started from their ambush to support the charge which was made at the same time by their own cavalry. This unexpected attack threw the advancing squadrons into confusion, and though they were pursued but to a short distance, they did not stop till they reached the Theban phalanx, and even a part of the infantry were so much alarmed by their flight, as to retreat. [Sidenote: [370-369 B.C.]] It was perhaps on this occasion, while the allies were advancing, that a band of about two hundred men, who had for the most part been long suspected by the government, occupied the Issorium, one of the heights on the skirt of the town towards the river. As they had received no orders, it was evident that they were acting with treasonable designs; and some proposed that they should be forthwith dislodged by force. Agesilaus, however, thought it more prudent, as the extent of the conspiracy was not known, to try a milder course; and going up to the place with a single attendant, affected to believe that they had mistaken his orders, and directed them to station themselves in different quarters. They obeyed, thinking that they had escaped detection; but fifteen of them were arrested by the orders of Agesilaus, and put to death without form of trial, in the night. The suppression of this attempt may have led to the discovery of another more dangerous conspiracy, in which a number of Spartans were implicated. They were arrested in a house where they held clandestine meetings. The clearer their guilt, the more dangerous it probably appeared to bring them to trial; yet there was no power in the state which could legally put a Spartan to death without one. Even the authority of the ephors had never yet been carried so far. They determined however, after a consultation with Agesilaus, to dispense with legal forms, and the prisoners were delivered to a secret execution. The desertions which took place among the helots and the Laconian troops were carefully concealed from public knowledge; but this may not indicate their frequency, so much as the vigilance of Agesilaus. The reports brought to the camp of the allies, as to the state of things in Sparta, did not encourage Epaminondas to repeat the attempt in which the cavalry had been repulsed, or to prolong his stay in the neighbourhood of the capital. He directed his march southward, and ravaged the whole vale of the Eurotas as far as the coast. Some unwalled towns were committed to the flames, and an assault was made for three successive days on Gythium, the naval arsenal of Sparta, but without success. If it was the design of Epaminondas to take advantage of the discontent which was supposed to prevail in the subject population towards the government, to effect a permanent revolution, the devastation committed by his allies, which he was probably unable to restrain, must have tended to counteract it. He was joined, Xenophon says, by some of the provincials; but the majority must have looked upon the invaders as enemies. Their stay was protracted for some weeks. At length the Peloponnesian troops began to withdraw with their booty, leaving the country almost exhausted. The growing scarcity of provisions and diminution of numbers, combined with the hardships of the season, would have admonished Epaminondas to retire, even if, as Xenophon would lead his readers to suppose, his only business, after recrossing the border, had been to march homeward. But the historian has carefully suppressed the main object which Epaminondas had in view, and which he accomplished during his stay in the peninsula. He meditated a blow much more destructive to the power and prosperity of Sparta than the invasion of her territory. His design was to deprive her of Messenia, to collect the Messenians in the land of their forefathers, and to found a new city, where they might maintain their independence. He had already sent to the various regions in which the remains of the heroic people were scattered, to invite them to return to their ancient home. FOUNDING OF MESSENE Ithome was recommended, at once by the most animating recollections, and by the advantages of its strong and central position; and the western slope of the ridge on which the ancient stronghold stood, was selected for the new city, Messene. The foundations were laid with the utmost solemnity; and if we may trust Pausanias, Epaminondas on this occasion did not disdain to practise a pious fraud, for the purpose of showing that the undertaking was sanctioned by the will of the gods. The name of Aristomenes was invoked with peculiar veneration, not only by the Messenians, but by the Greeks of every race who took part in the founding of the city: and the victory of Leuctra was, now perhaps for the first time, ascribed to his supernatural interposition. But though Epaminondas did not neglect the aid to be derived from pious and patriotic enthusiasm, he at least paid equal attention to all the material means of securing the duration of his work. The most judicious use was made of the natural advantages of the site; the most approved architects of the day were employed upon the plan, and the most skilful workmen in the execution; and the fortifications of Messene, which some centuries later excited the admiration of Pausanias, are still found to justify his praise by the solid and beautiful masonry of the remains which are even yet in existence. [Illustration: GREEK TERRA-COTTA FIGURE (In the British Museum)] When the fortifications of Messene had been carried so far that the presence of the army was no longer needed, Epaminondas, leaving a garrison there, began his march homeward. The building of Messene is so coupled with that of Megalopolis in the accounts of Diodorus and Pausanias, that we may perhaps infer that he did not pass through Arcadia without contributing some important assistance to the latter work, on which the people of Megalopolis were still engaged. An enemy however still awaited him at the isthmus. In their distress the Spartans had applied for succour to Athens: and their ambassadors were accompanied by envoys from the Peloponnesian states which still adhered to them, among whom those of Corinth and Phlius appear to have supported their request with the greatest earnestness. They appealed to the generosity, to the jealousy, to the fears, and the hopes of the Athenians. There was already a general disposition among the people, if not in favour of Sparta, yet strongly adverse to Thebes. The assembly, after having heard the ambassadors, would not listen to any arguments on the other side, but decreed that the whole force of the commonwealth should march to the relief of Sparta, and appointed Iphicrates to the command. An army was immediately raised; and the troops are described by Xenophon as so zealous in the cause, that they murmured because Iphicrates halted for a few days at Corinth. But when they resumed their march, expecting, the historian says, to be led to some glorious action, no such result ensued. It seems that Iphicrates had no wish to seek the enemy, and, perhaps having heard that Sparta was freed from immediate danger, he contented himself with attacking some places in Arcadia, either for the sake of plunder or in the hope that this diversion might hasten the enemy’s retreat from Laconia. But it does not appear that his operations produced any effect on those of the Theban army. When Epaminondas began to move towards the isthmus, he posted himself there to guard the passes at the southern extremity: but through some oversight which Xenophon notices with evident surprise, as an extraordinary failure of his military skill, he left the most convenient of them--that on the side of Cenchreæ--open; and the Thebans penetrated without any opposition to the isthmus. A body of cavalry, which was sent to observe their movements, and which, Xenophon says, was larger than that purpose required, though insufficient for any other, approached so near as to be drawn into a skirmish, and lost some men in its retreat. With this little advantage over one of the greatest captains of the age, who commanded the forces of the only power which could now be considered as a rival to Thebes, Epaminondas concluded this memorable campaign. The services which he had rendered to his country were in general duly appreciated by his fellow-citizens; but they excited, and did not disarm, the envy of some inferior minds, and the expedition itself, successful as it had been, afforded them a pretext for assailing him. The yearly term for which he held his office of Bœotarch had expired, it seems, soon after he entered Peloponnesus, and he and his colleagues had retained their command, without any express sanction, three or four months longer. On this ground he and Pelopidas were separately charged with a capital offence. It was merely an experiment to try the strength of their popularity; for their conduct, though perhaps it infringed the letter of the law, was manifestly in accordance with the will of the people. It is indeed somewhat surprising that their adversaries should have ventured on such an attempt, and still more that the issue, as we learn from Plutarch, was considered doubtful, because Pelopidas was first brought to trial. Epaminondas, it is said, declared himself willing to die, provided the names of Leuctra, Sparta, and Messene, and the deeds by which his own was connected with them, might be inscribed upon his tomb. Both, however, were acquitted in the most honourable manner; and Pelopidas, less magnanimous or more irritable than his philosophic friend, who would have forgiven the harmless display of malice, afterwards employed the forms of law to crush their principal accusers.[h] Niebuhr remarks that the re-establishment of Messene “is an imperishable monument to Epaminondas,” but draws therefrom a somewhat disconcerting moral: “In the restoration of Messene, Epaminondas obeyed the dictates of prudence and of his own noble heart; and he could not have acted otherwise even if he had foreseen the consequences. It must be observed that this is again one of those cases in which the accomplishment of justice was not followed by happy results. The restoration of Messene produced at a later period of Greek history, terrible consequences. The Messenians being, by their peculiar situation, the implacable enemies of Sparta, were obliged to seek support against her; and they preferred doing so at the greatest distance, which made them the humble servants of Macedonia, and the perpetual enemies and traitors of Greece. There was no people so devoted body and soul to King Philip, as the Messenians. The death of Philopœmen is an example of the mischief which Messenia created in Greece, an ineffaceable brand on the name of Messenia. Things which every honest man must desire, are in the end often followed by the saddest consequences.”[b] ATHENS IN LEAGUE WITH SPARTA In the existing pressure upon Lacedæmon, and upon the states whose interest yet bound them to the Lacedæmonian cause, it was of great importance to hold, and, if possible, improve, their connection with Athens. Ministers accordingly were therefore sent thither, fully empowered to agree upon the system of command and the plan of operations for the next campaign. The former alone made any difficulty. The Athenian council, at this time swayed apparently by wise and moderate men, had agreed with the Peloponnesians, that, all circumstances considered, it would be most for the interest of the confederacy, and most equitable, that the Athenians should direct operations by sea, and the Lacedæmonians by land. But a party in Athens, with Cephisodotus for their orator, thought to earn popular favour by opposing this arrangement. When the proposal of the council was laid before the general assembly (for by that tumultuary meeting, in the degenerate state of Solon’s constitution, all the measures of executive government were to have their ratification), Cephisodotus persuaded the ill-judging multitude that they were imposed upon. In the Lacedæmonian squadron, he said, the trierarchs would be Lacedæmonians, and perhaps a few heavy-armed; but the body of the crews would be helots or mercenaries. Thus the Athenians would command scarcely any but slaves and the outcast of nations in the Lacedæmonian navy, whereas, in the Athenian army, the Lacedæmonians would command the best men of Athens. If they would have a partition of military authority really equal, according to the fair interpretation of the terms of the confederacy, the command equally of the sea and of the land forces must be divided. Popular vanity was caught by this futile argument; and the assembly voted that the command, both by sea and by land, should be alternately five days with the Athenians, and five with the Lacedæmonians. In this decision of the petulant crowd, singularly adapted to cripple exertion both by sea and land, the Lacedæmonians, pressed by circumstances, thought it prudent to acquiesce. SECOND INVASION OF PELOPONNESUS In spring an army was assembled at Corinth to prevent the passage of the Thebans and their northern allies into Peloponnesus. But the superior abilities of the Theban leaders prevailed. They surprised an outpost. Doubting still their means for forcing their way over the rough descent of the Onean Mountains, they communicated with the Lacedæmonian polemarch commanding, and, whether through his treachery or his weakness, they obtained a truce, under favour of which they safely joined the forces of their Peloponnesian allies, the Arcadians, Argives, and Eleans. This junction being effected, they found themselves far superior to the army of the Lacedæmonian confederacy. Without opposition then they punished the attachment of the Epidaurians to the Lacedæmonian interest by ravage of their lands. They attempted then one of the gates of Corinth; but, the Corinthians submitting themselves to the able direction of the Athenian general, Chabrias, who was there with a body of mercenaries, they were repulsed with some slaughter. Against so great a superiority of force however the abilities of Chabrias could not prevent the ravage of the Corinthian territory. All Peloponnesus now seemed open to the Thebans, when the pressure of the Thessalian arms, under the tagus, Alexander of Pheræ, upon their northern allies, and apprehension of its extending to Bœotia itself, called the Thebans suddenly out of the peninsula. All the Peloponnesians of the confederacy then, assuming leave of absence, parted to their several homes. The dissolution of the army of the Theban confederacy gave a most fortunate relief to Lacedæmon. All the leisure it afforded seems to have been wanted for composing troubles within Laconia itself. Offensive operations were left to the auxiliaries sent by Dionysius, then ruling in Syracuse; a body remarkable enough, both in itself and for its actions, to deserve notice. The infantry were Gauls and Spaniards; the cavalry, apparently Sicilian Greeks, so excellent that, though scarcely exceeding fifty horsemen, they had given more annoyance to the Thebans, while laying waste the Corinthian lands, than all the rest of the army. After the other troops, on both sides, were withdrawn, this transmarine force alone undertook the invasion of Sicyonia, defeated the Sicyonians in battle, and took a fort in their territory by assault. Gratified then with glory and plunder they embarked, and, with twenty triremes, their convoy, returned to Syracuse. Thus far the able leaders of the Theban councils, profiting from the animosity so extensively prevailing against Lacedæmon, had kept their confederacy unanimous and zealous, under the supremacy of Thebes. But it was little likely that, by any management, so many states could be long retained in patient submission to so new a superiority. The long deference of the Grecian republics to Lacedæmonian command, amounting, in many instances, to a zealous, and sometimes extending to a general, loyalty towards the superior people, is a political phenomenon perhaps singular in the history of mankind. But that deference was paid to a superiority, not suddenly obtained, but growing from the extraordinary institutions under which the Lacedæmonians lived; which made them really a superior people, obviously fittest, in the divided and tumultuary state of the Greek nation, to command in war and to arbitrate in peace: whence even still, when the political power of Lacedæmon was so declining, the estimation of the Lacedæmonian people, we are told, was such that at the Olympian and other national meetings a Lacedæmonian was an object of curiosity and admiration for strangers, more even than the conquerors in the games. The superiority of Athens, also, though in few instances, or for a short time only, supported by a loyalty like that which Lacedæmon enjoyed, accruing suddenly, yet had resulted from long preparation. Legislation more perfected, talents and manners more cultivated, and an extraordinary succession of able men at the head of affairs, gave to the Athenians an effectual superiority which the people of other republics saw and felt. But Thebes, without any advantage of ancient prejudice in favour of her pretensions, without any public institutions to be admired, recently emerged from political subjection, possessing indeed a large and disciplined population which might infuse some terror, was yet become so suddenly eminent only through the blaze of talents of a few, and principally of one extraordinary man, leading her councils, and commanding her armies. If therefore, in any other state of the confederacy, where military force was not very inferior, a similar blaze of character should occur, that state would presently feel itself equal to Thebes, and be prepared to break a connection involving an admission of her superiority. [Sidenote: [368 B.C.]] Such a character had been for some time rising among the Arcadians in Lycomedes of Mantinea, a man inferior to none of his country in birth, superior to most in property, one who had already distinguished himself in council as a principal promoter of the Arcadian union, and in arms at the head of the Arcadian forces. Lycomedes apparently already saw, what afterwards became abundantly notorious, that, if any view to the general good of Greece influenced the Theban councils, it was wholly subordinate to the ambition of making Thebes supreme over the Greek nation. This ambition he resolved to oppose. In the general assembly therefore of the Arcadian states, convened in the new city of Megalopolis, he represented that “Peloponnesus, among all its various present inhabitants, was the proper country of the Arcadians alone; the rest were really strangers. Nor were the Arcadians the most ancient only, they were the most powerful of the Grecian tribes; they were the most numerous, and they excelled in strength of body. It was notorious that the troops of no other Grecian people were in equal request. The Lacedæmonians knew their value: they had never invaded Attica without Arcadian auxiliaries; nor would the Thebans now venture to invade Laconia without them. If therefore the Arcadians knew their own interest, they would no longer obey the Thebans, but insist upon equality in command. They had formerly raised Lacedæmon; they were now raising Thebes; and shortly they would find the Thebans but other Lacedæmonians.” Flattering thus alternately, and stimulating the Arcadian people, Lycomedes obtained the effective command of them; and the natural consequence of the submission of the multitude’s caprice to an able man’s control resulted: the Arcadians were successful, and their successes were brilliant. The Argives invaded Epidauria. The renowned Athenian general Chabrias, at the head of the Athenian and Corinthian forces, intercepted their retreat. The Arcadians were in alarm for their allies; an assembly was held; the interest of Lycomedes decided the choice of commanders, and the Arcadian army, against great disadvantage of ground, brought off the Argives without loss. An expedition was then undertaken into Laconia; the territory of Asine was ravaged, and the Lacedæmonian polemarch Geranor, who commanded there, was defeated and killed. Many predatory incursions, in the common way of Grecian warfare, followed; and when any object invited, neither night, says the contemporary historian, nor weather, nor distance, nor difficulty of way deterred; insomuch that the Arcadians acquired the reputation of being the best soldiers of their time. Disposed as the Arcadians showed themselves no longer to admit the superiority of Thebes, their strength, their discipline, and their successful activity in arms, though exerted in the cause of the confederacy, could scarcely fail to excite some jealousy and apprehension in the Theban government. No direct breach ensued, but friendship cooled and became precarious. Meanwhile the new energy of the Arcadian government attracted the regard of the humble and oppressed; always an extensive description of men, and sometimes of states, among the Grecian republics. The people of Elis had long claimed, and generally maintained, a sovereignty over the people of several towns of Elis, and of the whole district called Triphylia, on the border against Messenia. In a strong situation in Triphylia, called Lasion, to assist in curbing the inhabitants they had allowed some Arcadian exiles to establish themselves. They at length made common cause with their neighbouring fellow-subjects, particularly the Marganeans and Scilluntines, in opposition to the Elean government. For support then they turned their view to the new union of Arcadia: they claimed to be Arcadians; and by a petition addressed to the new united government they desired to be taken under its protection. At the same time the Eleans were pressing for assistance from their allies of Arcadia, to recover their former dominion over the towns which the Lacedæmonians had restored to independency. The Arcadians slighted this application, and declared by a public resolution that the petition of the Triphylians was well founded, and that their kinsmen should be free. Elis became in consequence still more alienated from Arcadia than Arcadia from Thebes. The growing schism in the opposing confederacy promised great advantage to Lacedæmon. Meanwhile, though, through vices in their civil constitution and ill-management in their administration, the Lacedæmonians had lost the best half of their territory, their negotiations abroad still carried weight, and were conducted ably and successfully. It was at this critical time that Philiscus, a Greek of Abydos, arrived as minister from the satrap of Bithynia, Ariobarzanes, professedly charged to mediate in the king of Persia’s name a general peace among the Grecian republics. This new interference of Persia in Grecian affairs was produced by Lacedæmonian intrigue. Philiscus proposed a congress at Delphi; and deputies from Thebes and from the states of the Theban confederacy readily met deputies from Lacedæmon there. No fear of Persia, so the historian, not their friend, testifies, influenced the Thebans; for Philiscus requiring, as an indispensable article, that Messenia should return under obedience to Lacedæmon, they positively refused peace but upon condition that Messenia should be free. This resolution being firmly demonstrated, the negotiation quickly ended, and both sides prepared for war. Philiscus then gave ample proof of his disposition to the Lacedæmonian cause, by employing a large sum of money, entrusted to him by the satrap, in levying mercenaries for the Lacedæmonian service. Meanwhile a body of auxiliaries from Dionysius of Syracuse, chiefly Gauls and Spaniards, as in the former year, had joined the Lacedæmonian army; and, while the Athenians were yet but preparing to march, a battle was fought under the command of Archidamus son of Agesilaus. The united forces of Argos, Arcadia, and Messenia were defeated, with slaughter, if Diodorus may be believed, of more than ten thousand men, and, as all the historians report, without the loss of a single Spartan. After a series of calamities the intelligence of this extraordinary success made such impression at Lacedæmon that tears of joy, says the contemporary historian, beginning with Agesilaus himself, fell from the elders and ephors, and finally from the whole people. Among the friends of the Lacedæmonians nevertheless, as no tear of sorrow resulted, this action became celebrated with the title of the “Tearless Battle” of Midea. EXPEDITION INTO THESSALY [Illustration: GREEK OFFICER SACRIFICING ON THE EVE OF BATTLE] The war with Thessaly now pressed upon Thebes. Still urging Lacedæmon by her confederates and dependents in Peloponnesus, she not only could afford protection to her northern subjects and allies against the successor of the most formidable potentate of the age, but she could aim at dominion, or influence which would answer the purpose of dominion, among the populous and wealthy, but ill-constituted cities of Thessaly. While the rapacity and ambition of the tagus, Alexander of Pheræ, occasioned a necessity for measures of protection and defence, the disposition to revolt, which his tyranny had excited among those over whom his authority extended, gave probability to views of aggrandisement for those who might support the revolt. Accordingly Pelopidas was sent into Thessaly with an army under a commission to act there at his discretion; for the advantage however, not of the Thessalians, who had solicited protection, but of the Bœotian people, who pretended to be common protectors: a kind of commission which it has been usual in all ages for the barefaced ambition of democracies to avow, while the more decent manners of the most corrupt courts, from which such commissions may have issued, have generally covered them with a veil. Pelopidas penetrated to Larissa, and with the co-operation of its people, expelled the tyrant’s garrison. Extending negotiations then into Macedonia, he concluded a treaty with Alexander, king of that country, who desired alliance with Thebes, the better to resist the oppression which he felt or feared from the naval power and ambitious policy of Athens, which were continually exerted to extend dominion or influence over every town on every shore of the Ægean. His younger brother, Philip, then a boy, afterwards the great Philip, father of the greater Alexander, is said to have accompanied Pelopidas in his return to Thebes; whether for advantage of education and to extend friendly connection, or, as later writers have affirmed, as a hostage to insure the performance of stipulated conditions. Pelopidas returning to his command in Thessaly, his usual success failed him. According to Diodorus and Plutarch, venturing as voluntary negotiator for his country within the power of the profligate tagus, he was seized and imprisoned. But Polybius imputes his misfortune to positive imprudence, and an expression of Demosthenes would imply that he was made prisoner in battle. Nor were the exertions of the Theban government to avenge him fortunate. The Bœotarchs, who had ventured far into Thessaly with an army said to have been eight thousand foot and six hundred horse, not finding the support expected from the Thessalian people, were reduced to retreat before the greater force of the tagus; and, in traversing the Thessalian plain pursued by a superior cavalry, they suffered severely. It is attributed to the ability of Epaminondas, serving in an inferior station, but called forth by the voices of the soldiers to supply the deficiencies of the generals, that the army was not entirely cut off. Negotiation, supported probably by arms, yet not without some concession, procured at length the release of Pelopidas, early in 367. AN EMBASSY TO PERSIA AND A CONGRESS AT THEBES [Sidenote: [368-367 B.C.]] The cordial support of Athens, the force of mercenaries to be added by Philiscus, the growing aversion among the Arcadians to the Theban cause, and the troubles in the northern provinces, with the pressure of the Thessalian arms upon the Theban confederacy, together seemed likely to restore a decisive superiority to Lacedæmon, at least within her peninsula; and then, judging from experience, it was not likely to be confined there. But the able directors of the Theban councils had observed that the first and perhaps the most powerful efficient of this change in circumstances had been negotiation with Persia; and they resolved to direct also their attention to Persia, and try if they could not foil the Lacedæmonians by negotiation still more effectually than by arms. A minister from Lacedæmon, Euthycles, was actually resident at the Persian court. Upon this ground a congress of the confederacy was summoned, and, in pursuance of a common resolution, Pelopidas was sent to Susa on the part of Thebes, accompanied by ministers, from Argos, Elis, and Arcadia. The Athenians, jealous of the measure, sent their ministers also, Timagoras and Leon. Pelopidas was treated by the Persian court with distinguishing honour. A Persian of rank was appointed to accompany Pelopidas back to Greece, bearing a rescript from the king in which the terms of his friendship were declared. It required that “the Lacedæmonians should allow the independency of Messenia; that the Athenians should lay up their fleet; that war should be made upon them if they refused; and that, if any Grecian city denied its contingent for such war, the first hostilities should be directed against that city; that those who accepted these terms would be considered as friends of the king, those who refused them as enemies.” If we compare the style and spirit of this rescript, and the manner in which it was offered to united Greece, with the terms and circumstances of the Peace of Antalcidas, we shall hardly discover what has been the ground of distinction between them; why one has been so much reprobated, while the other, little indeed applauded, has in a manner been thrown out of observation by the imposing abundance of panegyric which the consent of ancient and modern writers has bestowed on the magnanimous patriotism of Pelopidas, and of his great associate in politics as in arms, Epaminondas. But we may perhaps be led to think that political principle has been out of view, both in the panegyric and in the reproach; that the merit of individuals has considerably swayed the general mind; yet that the great distinction has rested on party-spirit. If however, leaving the political principles of Pelopidas in that obscurity which we seem without means very satisfactorily to illuminate, we look to his political abilities, we shall see them exhibited in their fairest light, in real splendour, not by his professed panegyrists, but by the candid contemporary historian, not his friend. They are evident in the success of his Persian negotiation, to which that historian has borne full testimony; and that negotiation must unquestionably have been a business abounding with difficulties, and requiring much discernment to conduct and bring to so advantageous a conclusion. But the Thebans appear to have been too much elated by their success, in this extraordinary and very important affair, for perfect prudence to hold through their political conduct; whether their able chiefs now erred, or rather popular presumption, in the badness of their constitution, to which Polybius bears testimony, was not to be restrained. They assumed immediately to be arbiters of Greece. Their summonses for a congress of deputies from the several republics to meet in Thebes were generally obeyed. The Persian who had accompanied the return of Pelopidas, attended, with the king’s rescript in his hand. This was read and interpreted to the congress, while the king’s seal appendant was ostentatiously displayed. The Thebans proposed, as the condition of friendship with the king and with Thebes, that the deputies should immediately swear to the acceptance of the terms, in the names of their respective cities. Readily however, as the congress had met in Thebes, the deputies did not come so prepared to take the law from Thebes. Not simply objecting to the proposed oath, Lycomedes insisted that “Thebes was not the place in which the congress should have been assembled.” The Thebans exclaiming, with marks of resentment, that he was promoting discord in the confederacy, he declared his resolution to hold his seat in the congress no longer; and, the other Arcadian deputies concurring with him, they all retired together. The result seems to have been that the congress broke up without coming to any resolution. Disappointed and thwarted thus, the Thebans could not yet resolve to abandon their project of arrogating that supremacy over the Greek nation which Lacedæmon had so long held; long indeed by the voluntary concession of a large majority of it. They sent requisitions separately to every city to accede to the terms proposed; expecting that the fear of incurring the united enmity of Thebes and of the king, says the contemporary historian, would bring all severally to compliance. The Corinthians, however, setting the example of a firm refusal, with the added observation, that “they wanted no alliance, no interchange of oaths with the king,” it was followed by most of the cities. And thus, continues Xenophon, this attempt of Pelopidas and the Thebans to acquire the empire of Greece finally failed. If we refuse to Thebes the credit of a glory genuine and pure for her first successful struggle against the tyranny of Lacedæmon, we have Epaminondas himself with us, who would take no part in the revolution till the business of conspiracy, treachery, and assassination was over, and the affair came into the hands of the people at large, ready for leaders, and wanting them. We may have more difficulty to decide upon the merit or demerit of that obstinacy with which the Thebans afterwards persisted in asserting dominion over the cities of Bœotia, and thus denying peace to Greece, when proposed upon a condition which might seem, on first view, all that true Grecian patriotism could desire--universal independency. For where was to be found the sanction of that peace? Unfortunately the efficacy of any great interest pervading the country was overborne and lost in the multitude of narrow, yet pressing interests, of parties and of individuals, dividing every little community. No sooner would the independency of the Bœotian towns have been established than a revolution would have been made, or attempted in every one of them. The friends of Thebes once overpowered, and the friends of Lacedæmon prevailing among those towns, how long might Thebes itself have been secure against a second subjection to Lacedæmon, more grievous than the former? As far, then, as these considerations may apologize for the refusal of accession to the treaty of Athens, so far it may also justify the Persian embassy; though scarcely the haughtiness which success in that negotiation seems to have inspired. But what should have been the farther conduct of Thebes to secure her own quiet, without interfering in the affairs of surrounding states, or how to insure quiet among those states, without the possession and the use of power to control them, is not so easy to determine. For the business of the honest statesman, amid the seldom failing contention of factions within, and the ambition of interested neighbours without, is not so easy and obvious as presumptuous ignorance is commonly ready to suppose, and informed knavery often, with interested purposes, to affirm. How ill prepared Greece was at this time for internal quiet, what follows will but concur with all that has preceded of its history to show.[e] FOOTNOTES [12] [These are Hector’s words in the _Iliad_, XII, 243. The omens having been unfavourable, Polydamas warns him not to fight, but the “crest-tossing Hector” answers scornfully as above, “The best omen of all is to defend the fatherland,” and so saying he assailed the Greeks with more than common success.] [13] [Grote says: “To the discredit of Xenophon, Epaminondas is never named in his narrative of the battle, though he recognises in substance that the battle was decided by the irresistible Theban force brought to bear upon one point of the enemy’s phalanx; a fact which both Plutarch and Diodorus expressly referred to the genius of the general.”] [14] [σκυταλισμός--from the weapon (σκυτάλη) a club which seems to have been principally used.] [Illustration] [Illustration] CHAPTER XLVI. WHEN THEBES WAS SUPREME JOINT WORK OF EPAMINONDAS AND PELOPIDAS The Thebans had every inducement to husband their strength and guard their commonwealth against civil divisions, for the number of their adversaries increased with their good fortune. If they could look back with pride on what had been accomplished, still their future was by no means secure. They had indeed baffled the unjustifiable designs of their enemies. The Spartans, who eighteen months before had cherished the hope of decimating the divided Thebans for the benefit of the god, were now reduced to complete impotence, while they were threatened by the Thebans with almost the same fate by which the latter had themselves been confronted; the foundation of a city which offered a safe refuge to all oppressed and outlawed inhabitants of Laconia, had inflicted a mortal wound on the ruling Dorian state; the annihilation of the Peloponnesian league had permanently broken the Spartan supremacy. But the very rapidity with which the fetters had been shaken off had created many difficulties which the Thebans had to face when they came to reunite the dismembered limbs into a new whole. The hegemony of Sparta, like that of Athens, rested on the foundation of ancient popular tradition; each had its justification in the eminent qualities of the respective states, in the exclusive military training and bravery of the Spartans, in the cultivation and democratic judicial life of the Athenians; all the Greek commonwealth had been pledged to one or the other of these states for a shorter or longer period; consequently subordination to one of them was no disgrace to any town, since the ancestors of its inhabitants had already stood in a similar relation. The position was quite different in the case of Thebes, which neither by her historical past, nor by the greatness and importance of her intellectual and moral progress and civil institutions, seemed justified and qualified for the assumption of so eminent a position. Much as the Peloponnesians admired the bravery, the discipline, and the excellent disposition of the Theban troops, their military reputation was too recent to allow of its measuring itself in the eyes of the Hellenes with the glory of Sparta’s arms and her military practice; and yet warlike courage and bodily dexterity were the only merits which the Thebans could bring forward to support their claim to supremacy in Hellas. They had neglected navigation, though the favourable situation of the country, with its extensive coast on both shores and the excellent roadsteads, especially at Aulis, offered many advantages; they had at all times shown a disinclination and contempt for commerce and industry, and were consequently often in distress for money; in intellectual and artistic progress, they had not only remained behind Athens and the Hellenes of Asia Minor, but the Dorian states of Sparta, Corinth, Sicyon, and Ægina had also developed a richer culture; the composition of lyrics and the art of playing on the flute were the only accomplishments in which the Bœotians had attained to any skill. The sense of justice and humanity were little cultivated; savage and cruel in their disposition, they pursued their enemies and their rivals with bloodthirsty passion, so that on his second expedition into the Peloponnesus Epaminondas only saved a number of aristocratic fugitives from Bœotia from an agonising death by denying their origin. Beside this, the inclination of the Thebans to sensual pleasures and their delight in luxurious feasts and banquets, formed a striking contrast to Athenian simplicity and moderation, and to the stern and joyless lives of the Spartans. It has been already remarked that Epaminondas was free from all these defects and vices and did all in his power to remove them; but he stood so far above his fellow-citizens that his influence was diminished by that very fact. Judging his countrymen by himself, and assuming in them the same virtue and morality, the same enthusiasm for the glory and greatness of their native land as he felt in his own great soul, he drew them into undertakings to which neither their strength nor their capacity was equal; he entered on courses which they, with their defective political training, could not pursue with safety. Consequently it has been justly said that with the corpse of Epaminondas the glory of Thebes was also carried to the grave. When the period of his command in the field expired, Epaminondas returned home, where he was once more to experience the ingratitude of his fellow-citizens. Not only did the people, now again roused against him, pass him over in the election of the Bœotarchs; it is related that the deluded mob appointed him overseer of roads and canals (telearchus), but that by his conscientious administration he gave importance to this insignificant office. Alike in the highest and in the lowest position, this magnanimous man endeavoured to work for the good of his country; his soul was free from the petty human weaknesses which so often cling, like a dark shadow, to talent and worth. This was exhibited in another scene in the year which followed. From his expedition in Thessaly he, to save Pelopidas, returned joyfully home too late to preserve the Theban state from a disgraceful act of bloodshed. In the interval, armed mobs, stirred up by passionate demagogues, had marched against Orchomenos, where an aristocratic conspiracy was said to have been discovered, had destroyed the detested city, murdered the nobles and chief citizens, and sold the rest into servitude, together with their wives and children. Thus the ancient and famous city of Orchomenos, once the wealthy seat of the Minyæ, disappeared from the number of Greek towns. “Had I been at home,” Epaminondas lamented, “this atrocity would never have been committed.” At Susa, in spite of his refusal to bend the knee, Pelopidas had won such high favour with the king, by reason of the fame of his deeds and the recollection of the ancient brotherhood in arms so long subsisting between Thebes and Persia, that the conditions of peace which Artaxerxes declared to the envoys proved to be entirely in accordance with the ideas and interests of Thebes and her skilful representative. But this award whose fulfilment, and with it the supremacy over Hellas, was entrusted to the Thebans, provoked indignation and resistance in the other states. At Athens, the envoy, Timagoras, was condemned to death for his intimacy with Pelopidas; at Sparta, exception was taken to the recognition of the rebellious Messenians; in Arcadia, the people resented the recognition of the Elean claims to suzerainty over the district of Triphylia, which had joined the Arcadian confederacy, and the deputy, Antiochus, famous as a pugilist and wrestler, vented his anger at home in ridicule of the Persians: “The king,” he said, “had bakers, cooks, cup-bearers, and door-keepers in large numbers, but in spite of a zealous search he had not been able to find men who should be able to stand against the Hellenes in a fight; abundance of money and wealth was a vain show; the celebrated golden plane tree could hardly give shade to a locust.” [Sidenote: [368-365 B.C.]] Such being the state of opinion, it is not surprising that the acceptance of the peace should have encountered insuperable difficulties. The ambassadors summoned to Thebes in the ensuing spring had refused to swear to it, and the Arcadian deputy, Lycomedes, even took exception to the place of assembly, by means of which the Thebans would have invested their town with their pre-eminence, and went away in anger. The endeavours to win the concurrence of the separate states were not more successful, so the general war resumed its course and with it sanguinary party strifes in every city, and flight and pursuit for the defeated. In vain Epaminondas, on his third Peloponnesian expedition, endeavoured to bring the principles of mildness and civil tolerance into effect in Achaia: the Theban commonwealth, stirred up by the Arcadian democrats, abolished his institutions and sent magistrates into the country, who countenanced the expulsion of the oligarchs and the erection of unrestricted popular governments, until the refugees assembled together, forcibly compelled their recall, and once more carried Achaia over to the Spartan alliance, whereupon the persecution assumed a different form. In Sicyon, Euphron, a rich and influential citizen, supported by Arcadian and Argive auxiliaries, placed the new commonwealth under the protection of Thebes, and with the confiscated property of his expelled enemies he obtained mercenaries, with whose aid he made himself ruler of his native city in the capacity of demagogue and tyrant. By wiles and treachery, robberies and crimes, he maintained himself in the government for a long time until, having at last been overpowered and put to flight by an aristocratic army, he was slain in Thebes, whither some of his enemies had followed him, under the eyes of the council. The perpetrator of the deed managed to defend himself so skilfully that he got away unpunished; but the townspeople of Sicyon honoured Euphron, who had freed them from the yoke of the aristocrats, as the second founder of their city. Thus throughout the Peloponnesus the most terrible party rage was the order of the day; communities and individuals, prompted by passion and revenge, perpetrated wild misdeeds and crimes. Isocrates, in his oration called _Archidamus_, thus paints the situation in the Peloponnesus: “Every town has its adversaries about it and therefore we have devastation of the country, destruction of the towns, subversion of governments, disregard of laws. Men fear their enemies less than their own fellow-citizens. The rich would rather throw their property into the sea than give to the poor; on the other hand the poor desire nothing better than to rob the rich. The sacrifices are suspended; men slay each other at the altars. There are more exiles from a single city than formerly in the whole of Peloponnesus.” The laws had no longer any general application, since Sparta’s ancient supremacy had collapsed and the pre-eminence of Thebes was not yet established; all common interests vanished, and in alliances and secessions nothing but the momentary advantage was kept in view. Even religious awe was extinguished in men’s minds; votive offerings and temple treasures were seized to pay hired troops. The greatest feats of arms were performed for no purpose; valour and military spirit were squandered in adventurous combats and enterprises. Yet in spite of this distracted state of affairs, Sparta could not recover her power and consideration: the want of a free citizenhood and the restoration of Messenia ceased to be spoken of. With the help of Syracusan mercenaries, whom the younger Dionysius had sent them, the generals did, indeed, succeed in bringing the town of Sellasia with the passes into Arcadia again under their power; but on the other hand they had to permit not only the Corinthians, but the Phliasians also, the most faithful of the allies of Sparta, who had executed many brave deeds and conducted so many expeditions against the Sicyonians and Argives, to conclude a separate peace with Thebes. They themselves refused to accede to it, notwithstanding the persuasions of their friends, because they could not make up their minds to the recognition of the independence of the Messenians, which was demanded. [Illustration: LOOKING TOWARDS CORINTH FROM ARCADIA] [Sidenote: [368-367 B.C.]] As Corinth, Phlius, Epidaurus, and other cities now allied themselves with Thebes, Arcadia drew up an offensive and defensive treaty with Athens, which Epaminondas, in his capacity of ambassador, vainly endeavoured to counteract by a speech against Callistratus before the national council of the Ten Thousand. But Lycomedes, the creator of this union, was not to reap the fruit of his labours. On his way home he met with a violent death at the hands of some Arcadian refugees. The dream of an Arcadian hegemony was buried with him. No other statesman had it in his power to lead that uncultivated, divided nation of soldiers and shepherds, strangers as they were to any sort of common action, to higher and patriotic aims. Petty border feuds again claimed the whole attention of the Arcadians, and the increasing estrangement between Mantinea and Tegea, and the jealousy of both in regard to Megalopolis, stood in the way of the strengthening and development of a united state. Soon disputes with Elis led to other complications fraught with consequences which necessitated a new military expedition on the part of the Thebans. After the battle of Leuctra, the Eleans had again taken possession of the territory of Triphylia, which had once been wrested from them by the Spartans; but the inhabitants, dissatisfied with the rule of the Eleans, had turned to the Arcadians, and, appealing to the ancient connection between the races, had requested and obtained admission into the Arcadian confederacy. The suzerainty of Elis over Triphylia had indeed, as it seems, been recognised in the peace prescribed by Persia, but the latter’s dispositions received as little acceptance here as elsewhere; both sides were therefore prepared to vindicate their claims by force of arms. [Sidenote: [365-364 B.C.]] To strengthen their position the Eleans concluded an alliance with Sparta, and vacated the border town of Lasion on the western slope of Erymanthus in favour of a flock of oligarchical refugees from Arcadia. In this settlement the government of Megalopolis saw a hostile intention, for from thence the oligarchs had no difficulty in forming traitorous connections with those who thought with them, and they seized the occasion to visit the peaceful little country with a devastating war. They carried robbery and destruction up to the very capital, excited a sanguinary civil war between the popular party and the oligarchical families, and reduced the inhabitants to a state of despair. In vain the Eleans brought about an invasion of the friendly Spartans into the territory of Megalopolis; after an heroic struggle the Arcadians forced the Lacedæmonian king, Archidamus, to surrender the strong hill town of Cromnus, which he had occupied by a rapid movement, and forced him to a disastrous retreat during which a hundred Lacedæmonian citizens fell into the hands of the victors. And as it chanced that the time of the Olympic games was approaching, they took possession of the holy site and bestowed the office of judge of the contests on the Pisatans. The Eleans, furious at this infringement of their rights, marched up with their collected forces, and on the sacred ground, before the eyes of those assembled for the festival, they delivered a sanguinary battle which was finally decided against them. The Eleans had to give place to the Arcadians and content themselves with omitting the festival from the series of Olympic years, on the grounds of its having been celebrated contrary to law and order. The confederate government of Arcadia laid hands on the temple treasure, and in spite of the protests of the Mantineans, they used it to defray the cost of the war and the pay of the national levies and _epariti_. This was the means of widening the schism and the difference of opinion which had for some time divided the Arcadian confederacy into two camps and which now developed into a breach destined to lead to serious consequences. The Mantineans, outnumbered in the federal government and national council, again turned to the Spartans, while the democrats of Tegea, who then had the upper hand in the guidance of united Arcadia, adhered to the alliance with Thebes. THE END OF PELOPIDAS [Sidenote: [364-357 B.C.]] The Thebans had taken no part in these events in the Peloponnesus, beyond keeping provincial governors (harmosts) and garrisons in Tegea, Sicyon, and other towns, for the purpose of guarding their own interests and upholding the cause of democracy. The complications in Thessaly and the attempts to wrest the command of the sea from the Athenians claimed the whole energies of their statesmen. Soon after the retreat of Epaminondas and Pelopidas after the latter’s rescue, Alexander, the cruel tyrant of Pheræ, had renewed his plans of conquest in the mountain country, had subdued the cities of the Achæans, Phthiotæ, and Magnetes, and extended his military despotism over the whole country. Then the oppressed and threatened people turned once more for help to the Thebans, who now fitted out an army of seven thousand hoplites to take stern vengeance on the disturber of the peace. But on the day fixed for its departure, an eclipse of the sun occurred and spread so much terror among the superstitious people that the march had to be put off. Pelopidas, the Bœotarch who had been selected to conduct the enterprise, was not deterred by the agitation, and determined to carry out the project by himself at the head of two hundred horsemen, in the conviction that on his appearance the Thessalian soldiers and volunteers would join him in crowds. And his expectation was not disappointed. Even at Pharsalus he found himself in command of such forces that he ventured on storming the line of hills called the “Dogs’ heads” (_Cynoscephalæ_), which Alexander held with a far superior army. The ranks of the enemy were already giving way, when Pelopidas, in the passion of victory and revenge, rushed impetuously on the flying tyrant, and, becoming separated from his own men, met his death at the spears of the bodyguard. Maddened by the fall of their brave leader, the Thebans and their companions in arms put renewed energy into the attack and won a complete victory. And as if the honour of this success belonged solely to the dead general, they piled the spoils and weapons of the slaughtered foes beside his corpse, as a monument of the victory, and abandoned themselves to the deepest grief. Many cut off their hair or their horses’ manes, many spent the day in their tents without eating or lighting a fire. And as the body was being conducted to Thebes, all the towns along the route manifested their sympathy by mourning celebrations, and in his own native city the great funeral solemnities bore witness to the deep love and honour of the Thebans for the fellow-citizen who had served them so well, who from the glorious days of the Liberation had been always included in the number of the Bœotarchs, whose name was associated with the most famous deeds and the proudest memories, and who had been no less eminent for his chivalrous and magnanimous character than for his heroic spirit and pure patriotism. The whole army now took the field to avenge his death, and, in conjunction with the Thessalian allies, they soon reduced the tyrant to such straits that he sued for peace, which the victors with more magnanimity than foresight granted him. He had to abandon the towns he had occupied, to confine his dominion to Pheræ and the surrounding district, and to render military service to the Thebans; a compact which neither provided satisfactory security against the repetition of similar encroachments, nor secured a powerful alliance for the Thebans. As in the Peloponnesus, so now there prevailed in Thessaly a condition of distraction and dissolution which was eventually to prepare for the northern conqueror a way into the heart of Hellas. For seven years longer Alexander continued his nefarious practices, henceforth turning his attention to piracy and the plunder of the islands and coast towns. In the general confusion his audacity went so far that he is said to have once surprised the Piræus in an unguarded hour and carried off a rich booty. Finally, at the instigation of his wife, Thebe, who on a former occasion had excited the imprisoned Pelopidas against her cruel husband, he was murdered by her brothers. [Sidenote: [366-362 B.C.]] The piratical expeditions with which Alexander afflicted the northern waters, were probably carried out with the knowledge and connivance of Thebes, for the purpose of annoying the Athenians. The latter, especially since their alliance with Sparta, had made the most eager efforts to re-establish their influence over the maritime states, though their means and forces were small and the mercenaries and peltasts who manned their ships little fitted to supply the place of the old citizen army. Iphicrates cruised in the northern waters for the space of three years, attempted to bring back the Greek cities in Thrace and Macedon to their old relation with Athens and made repeated attacks on Amphipolis, but without being able to win back this ancient colony; Timotheus brought Samos into subjection, and, with the help of the revolted Persian governor Ariobarzanes, acquired Sestos and Crithote on the Thracian Chersonesus, whereby the relations with Byzantium were restored, and also won a firm footing in Chalcidice and the Gulf of Thermæ by taking Potidæa and Torone, as well as Methone and Pella. These successes of Athens, though small in comparison with her former dominion over the sea and coasts, and insecure as they were in face of the impossibility of permanently providing the hired troops with pay and maintenance, nevertheless awakened the jealousy of Thebes. The keen eye of Epaminondas did not fail to perceive that his native city could only attain to the hegemony of Greece if the dominion of the sea were snatched from the Athenians, and being as bold and enterprising as he was sagacious, he endeavoured to persuade his countrymen to build a fleet. Thebes must become a sea power, in order, as he declared before the people, “to place the Propylæa of the Athenian Acropolis under the superintendence of the Cadmea”; not that he wished to accustom the powerful national forces to the seductive life on the sea and thus weaken the heavy-armed militia; the old manner of warfare, which rested on custom, education, and tradition, was to continue to prevail; but for the foundation of a secure ascendency in Hellas a fleet was indispensable. And so influential was the voice of this great general, that in spite of the remonstrance of the popular orator Meneclidas, the Theban people immediately resolved on the building and equipment of a hundred triremes and the establishment of shipyards of their own. He undertook the command of the fleet himself, and on his advent the islands of Chios and Rhodes and the important city of Byzantium were induced to fall away from Athens. It was the fatal destiny of Thebes and her patriotic leader, that her appearance had everywhere the effect of simply loosening such federal bonds as still existed and dissolving every force, but without enabling her to herself attain to the height of a great power. No foreign enemy could have found a means so well adapted to break up and enfeeble the Hellenic nation as was the disorganising and disintegrating policy of the Theban general. THE BATTLE OF MANTINEA AND THE DEATH OF EPAMINONDAS The Athenians, bitterly incensed against the Thebans by this attack on their maritime supremacy and by the occupation of the town of Oropus on the northeastern frontier, soon found an opportunity to give expression to their resentment by force of arms. In Arcadia the enmity of the supporters of a democratic state unity, with the Tegeans at their head, against the defenders of the ancient federative organisation on oligarchical principles under the standard of the Mantineans, had reached a high pitch of excitement. This was further aggravated when the Theban governor arrested a number of citizens from Mantinea who were of Laconian sympathies, and were, at Tegea, celebrating the peace recently concluded with Elis, and intended so it was said to take advantage of the opportunity for executing a stratagem which would place the city in the hands of the Spartans: frightened by the threatening attitude of their sympathisers, the governor again set them at liberty; but on complaint being made to Thebes, the aggrieved Arcadians were not granted the desired satisfaction for this breach of the peace, but on the contrary the release of the prisoners was disapproved. On this the Mantineans allied themselves with the Lacedæmonians, Athenians, Achæans, and Eleans and prepared for a struggle against the popular party in Tegea and Megalopolis, and against the Thebans who were approaching for the protection of the latter and the preservation of the frontier against Lacedæmon. [Sidenote: [362 B.C.]] In the spring of 362 Epaminondas and a considerable army, composed of allied Bœotians, Eubœans, Thessalians, etc., marched through Nemea without opposition to Tegea, where he collected around him the troops of the Arcadian, Argive, and Messenian allies, whilst the opposing side assembled its forces in Mantinea. When the Theban general learned that Agesilaus and the Lacedæmonian host were on the way to the meeting-place of their party, and had already reached the town of Pellana on the Arcadian and Laconian frontier, he hastily resolved to advance on Sparta by a night march, and seize the enemy’s capital, thus denuded of its defenders “like an empty nest.” The plan would doubtless have succeeded, since only a small number of the citizens had remained behind, had not Agesilaus, hearing of the project from a deserter, despatched a messenger to his son Archidamus, with the command immediately to put the town in a state of defence, while he himself at once set out to return with the cavalry. Thus when Epaminondas approached the banks of the Eurotas, almost at the same time as Agesilaus, he found the town so well watched and guarded that, after a hotly contested battle, he was obliged to retreat with loss. It is true that he managed to penetrate to the market-place, but when he attempted to storm the upper parts of the town, he encountered an obstinate resistance. The inhabitants had torn down their houses and thrown up barricades to bar the approaches. Protected by these dispositions and filled with patriotic enthusiasm, the Spartan citizenhood under the guidance of the old king and his son performed prodigies of valour, and gave evidence, as Xenophon says, that no one can easily maintain his ground against despairing men. Even women and children did their part by hurling down stones, utensils, and missiles from the roofs. Isadas, the handsome son of Phœbidas, specially distinguished himself by his heroism and his bold courage. Disappointed in his expectation of surprising Sparta undefended, Epaminondas desisted from the attack, the more readily when he learned that the whole united army of the enemy had started from Mantinea and was hastening to the assistance of the beleaguered town. He now formed a plan to make up for the failure of the undertaking against Sparta by seizing the town of Mantinea, now denuded of its troops, or at least to make spoil of the stores of grain and herds of cattle collected there. Deceiving the enemy by means of watchfires and a simulated attack, he led the army back to Tegea by a difficult night march. Here he accorded a brief rest to the wearied infantry, whilst the mounted troops proceeded towards Mantinea. But Epaminondas now learned that fate was against him. The Thebans had already advanced to within seven stadia [nearly a mile] of the town, when they saw the Athenian auxiliaries entering the gates from the opposite side. Hegesilaus, the leader of the Athenian cavalry, was assailed by the prayers of the Mantineans, in alarm for their property; and he at once marched against the enemy, to whom he gave battle under the walls of the town, in a sharp cavalry action, from which the Athenians eventually retired victorious. In this preliminary skirmish at Mantinea fell the brave Athenian leaders, Cephisodorus, and Gryllus, the son of Xenophon. Their memory continued to be held in honour by their fellow-citizens. Gryllus was represented by the painter Euphron in the act of slaying a Theban with his spear, and this circumstance, by a confusion of the previous encounter with the main battle, may have given rise to the story that Epaminondas was slain by Gryllus. The whole forces of both sides now concentrated in the plain of Mantinea and Tegea, determined to settle the future destiny of Greece by a decisive battle. Epaminondas had pressing reasons for desiring this settlement. The two unsuccessful enterprises, with the strenuous and fruitless marches, were not calculated to enhance his reputation as a general; while a long delay would necessarily weaken the spirit of his soldiers, who adhered to him with such great devotion, and would undermine the prestige of Thebes. Moreover his followers were superior in number to those of the adversary. The size of his army is set down at thirty thousand heavy-armed troops and three thousand cavalry; the enemy’s force was smaller by ten thousand hoplites and one thousand mounted men. Faith in Epaminondas had inspired his soldiers with the greatest enthusiasm for the conflict; they eagerly polished their helmets and shields and sharpened their swords and lances, while the Arcadian club-men assumed the Theban ensign. In the disposition and order of his line of battle, Epaminondas followed much the same plan which had been found to answer so well at Leuctra, only that in order to deceive and make sure of the foe, he caused the troops ranged for the conflict to make a feint of retreating towards the western heights; then, when the enemy, fancying that the encounter would be delayed, began to break up their order of battle, he suddenly made a rapid and vehement attack, so that at the first onset his left wing, where the Thebans and the bravest of the allies had their place, broke the enemy’s left, composed of the Spartans and Mantineans. Already the whole wing had begun to waver and plunge into a confused flight; when, at the very moment that he was about to win a complete victory, Epaminondas, pressing boldly forward, was struck in the breast by a spear thrown from the hostile ranks, and with such force that the shaft broke off and the iron remained fixed in the wound. He was still living when he was carried out of the mêlée; but the fall of their leader shook the spirit and confidence of the troops, and produced such dismay that the advancing column stood still as if paralysed and did not take advantage of its victory. The right wing, composed of the cavalry and peltasts, was overthrown by the opposing Athenians, and thus the battle remained without any decisive issue, though the Thebans retained possession of the field and the Spartans were the first to seek the usual truce for the burial of the dead, a request always looked upon as a token of defeat. Both sides, however, set up memorials of victory. Epaminondas was sorely wounded and the physicians had declared to him that the withdrawal of the spear would result in his death. From a wooded height he watched the battle, covering the wound with his hand, till his shield, which had been lost in the press, was brought to him and he was informed of the victory of the Thebans. Then he said, “Now it is time to die.” He asked for his two brave colleagues, Daïphantus and Iolaïdas, and when he learned that they, too, had lost their lives in the battle he advised his fellow-citizens to make peace; and then with a quiet and serene countenance he drew the iron from his breast and delivered up his heroic spirit. His beloved Cephisodorus had fallen at his side and was buried by him on the field of battle. When the friends who stood round him lamented that he left no children, he is reported to have said jestingly, “Am I not leaving you two noble daughters--the battles of Leuctra and Mantinea?”[b] [Illustration: SANDALS WORN BY GREEK SOLDIERS] In the last chapter of his _Hellenics_, Xenophon does tardy justice to the genius of Epaminondas, whom he did not even name in his account of Leuctra. In this splendid and Panhellenic struggle at Mantinea, Xenophon lost a son who died bravely and was honoured with a monument by the Mantineans. The father, himself a soldier, has left a less perishable monument in his history, the conclusion of which we quote as follows:[a] XENOPHON’S ACCOUNT OF HOW EPAMINONDAS FOUGHT Epaminondas now reflecting that he must quit Tegea in a few days--as the time allotted for the expedition would soon expire--and that, if he should leave those undefended to whom he came as an ally, they would be besieged and reduced by their enemies and he himself would suffer greatly in reputation--having been repulsed at Sparta with a numerous body of heavy-armed troops, by a handful of men; having been defeated in a cavalry engagement at Mantinea, and having been the cause, by his hostile expedition into the Peloponnesus, of the Lacedæmonians, Arcadians, Achæans, Eleans, and Athenians, forming a union--judged it, on these accounts, impossible for him to withdraw without fighting; for he thought that, if he should conquer, he should cause all his previous failures to be forgotten, and conceived that, if he should die, his death would be glorious in the endeavour to leave the sovereignty of the Peloponnesus to his country. That he should have reasoned thus, appears to me by no means surprising, for such are the reasonings of men ambitious of honour; but that he had so disciplined his army that they sank under no toil, either by night or day, shrank from no danger, and, though they had but scanty provisions, were yet eager to obey, seems to me far more wonderful. For when at last he gave them orders to prepare for battle, the cavalry, at his word, began eagerly to polish their helmets; the heavy-armed troops of the Arcadians marked the clubs on their shields as if they were Thebans, and all the men sharpened their spears and swords, and brightened their bucklers. After he had led them out thus prepared, it is well to consider how he acted. First of all, as was to be expected, he drew up his forces, and in doing so appeared to give manifest indications that he was preparing for a battle. When his army however was drawn up as he wished, he did not lead it the shortest way towards the enemy, but conducted it towards the mountains on the west and over against Tegea--so as to produce a notion in the enemy that he would not fight that day; for when he came near the hills, after his main body was drawn out to its full extent, he ordered his men to file their arms at the foot of the heights, so that he appeared to be encamping. By acting in this manner, he slackened the determination for engaging which was in the hearts of most of the enemy, and caused them to quit their posts on the field. But when he had brought up to the front the companies which on the march had been in the wings, and had made the part in which he was posted strong and in the shape of a wedge, he immediately gave orders for his troops to resume their arms, and began to advance, while they followed him. As for the enemy, when they saw the Thebans advancing, contrary to what they had expected, not one of them could remain quiet, but some ran to their posts, some formed themselves in line, others bridled their horses, others put on their breastplates; yet all were more like men going to suffer some harm than to inflict any on others. Epaminondas led on his army like a ship of war with its beak directed against the enemy, expecting that wherever he assailed and cut through their ranks he would spread disaster among their whole force; for he was prepared to settle the contest with the strongest part of his troops; the weaker he had removed to a distance, knowing that if they were defeated they would cause dismay among his own men and confidence in the enemy. The enemy, on their part, had drawn up their cavalry like a body of heavy-armed infantry, of a close depth, without any foot to support them; but Epaminondas, on the contrary, had formed of his cavalry a strong wedge-like body, and had posted companies of foot to support them, judging that when he had broken through the cavalry of the enemy, he would have defeated their whole force, since it is hard to find men that will stand when they see some of their own party in flight; and that the Athenians might not send succour from their left wing to the part of the enemy nearest them, he posted over against them, upon some high grounds, parties of horse and heavy-armed foot, wishing to inspire them with the apprehension that if they stirred to aid others his own troops would attack them in the rear. Such was the mode in which he commenced the engagement; nor was he deceived in his expectations; for, being successful in the part on which he made his attack, he forced the whole body of the enemy to take to flight. But when he himself fell, those who survived him could make no efficient use of their victory; for though the main body of the enemy fled before them, his heavy-armed troops killed none of them, nor even advanced beyond the spot where the charge took place; and though the cavalry also retreated, his own cavalry did not pursue, or make any slaughter either of horse or foot, but, like men who had been conquered, slipped away in trepidation amidst their fleeing adversaries. The other parties of foot, indeed, and the peltasts, who had shared in the success of the cavalry, advanced up to the enemy’s left wing, as if masters of the field, but there the greater part of them were put to the sword by the Athenians. When the conflict was ended, the result of it was quite contrary to what all men had expected that it would be; for as almost the whole of Greece was assembled on the occasion, and arrayed in the field, there was no one who did not suppose that, if a battle took place, one side would conquer and be masters, and the other be conquered and become subjects; but the divine power so ordered the event, that both parties erected trophies as being victorious, neither side hindering the other in the erection; both parties, as conquerors, restored the dead under a truce, and both parties, as defeated, received them under truce; and neither party, though each asserted the victory to be its own, was seen to gain any more, either in land, or towns, or authority, than it possessed before the battle took place. Indeed there was still greater confusion and disturbance in Greece after the conflict than there had been before it.[c] GROTE’S ESTIMATE OF EPAMINONDAS Scarcely any character in Grecian history has been judged with so much unanimity as Epaminondas. He has obtained a meed of admiration--from all, sincere and hearty; from some, enthusiastic. Cicero pronounces him to be the first man of Greece. The judgment of Polybius, though not summed up so emphatically in a single epithet, is delivered in a manner hardly less significant and laudatory. Nor was it merely historians or critics who formed this judgment. The best men of action, combining the soldier and the patriot, such as Timoleon and Philopœmen, set before them Epaminondas as their model to copy. The remark has been often made, and suggests itself whenever we speak of Epaminondas, though its full force will be felt only when we come to follow the subsequent history--that with him the dignity and commanding influence of Thebes both began and ended. His period of active political life comprehends sixteen years, from the resurrection of Thebes into a free community, by the expulsion of the Lacedæmonian harmost and garrison, and the subversion of the ruling oligarchy--to the fatal day of Mantinea, 379-362 B.C. His prominent and unparalleled ascendency belongs to the last eight years, from the victory of Leuctra, 371 B.C. Throughout this whole period, both all that we know and all that we can reasonably divine, fully bear out the judgment of Polybius and Cicero, who had the means of knowing much more. And this too, let it be observed, though Epaminondas is tried by a severe canon; for the chief contemporary witness remaining is one decidedly hostile. Even the philo-Laconian Xenophon finds neither misdeeds nor omissions to reveal in the capital enemy of Sparta--mentions him only to record what is honourable, and manifests the perverting bias mainly by suppressing or slurring over his triumphs. The man whose eloquence bearded Agesilaus at the congress immediately preceding the battle of Leuctra--who in that battle stripped Sparta of her glory, and transferred the wreath to Thebes, who a few months afterwards, not only ravaged all the virgin territory of Laconia, but cut off the best half of it for the restitution of independent Messene, and erected the hostile Arcadian community of Megalopolis on its frontier--the author of these fatal disasters inspires in Xenophon such intolerable chagrin and antipathy, that in the first two he keeps back the name, and in the third, suppresses the thing done. But in the last campaign, preceding the battle of Mantinea, whereby Sparta incurred no positive loss, and where the death of Epaminondas softened every predisposition against him, there was no such violent pressure upon the fidelity of the historian. Accordingly, the concluding chapter of Xenophon’s _Hellenica_ contains a panegyric, ample and unqualified, upon the military merits of the Theban general; upon his daring enterprise, his comprehensive foresight, his care to avoid unnecessary exposure of soldiers, his excellent discipline, his well-combined tactics, his fertility of aggressive resource in striking at the weak points of the enemy, who content themselves with following and parrying his blows (to use a simile of Demosthenes) like an unskilful pugilist, and only succeed in doing so by signal aid from accident. [Sidenote: [379-362 B.C.]] The effort of strategic genius--then for the first time devised and applied, of bringing an irresistible force of attack to bear on one point of the hostile line, while the rest of his army was kept comparatively back until the action had been thus decided--is clearly noted by Xenophon, together with its triumphant effect, at the battle of Mantinea; though the very same combination on the field of Leuctra is slurred over in his description, as if it were so commonplace as not to require any mention of the chief with whom it originated. Compare Epaminondas with Agesilaus--how great is the superiority of the first--even in the narrative of Xenophon, the earnest panegyrist of the other! How manifestly are we made to see that nothing except the fatal spear-wound at Mantinea prevented him from reaping the fruit of a series of admirable arrangements, and from becoming arbiter of Peloponnesus, including Sparta herself! The military merits alone of Epaminondas, had they merely belonged to a general of mercenaries, combined with nothing praiseworthy in other ways, would have stamped him as a man of high and original genius, above every other Greek, antecedent or contemporary. But it is the peculiar excellence of this great man that we are not compelled to borrow from one side of his character in order to compensate deficiencies in another. His splendid military capacity was never prostituted to personal ends--neither to avarice, nor ambition, nor overweening vanity. Poor at the beginning of his life, he left at the end of it not enough to pay his funeral expenses; having despised the many opportunities for enrichment which his position afforded, as well as the richest offers from foreigners. Of ambition he had so little, by natural temperament, that his friends accused him of torpor. But as soon as the perilous exposure of Thebes required it, he displayed as much energy in her defence as the most ambitious of her citizens, without any of that captious exigence, frequent in ambitious men, as to the amount of glorification or deference due to him from his countrymen. And his personal vanity was so faintly kindled, even after the prodigious success at Leuctra, that we find him serving in Thessaly as a private hoplite in the ranks, and in the city as an ædile or inferior street magistrate, under the title of Telearchus. An illustrious specimen of that capacity and good-will, both to command and to be commanded, which Aristotle pronounces to form in their combination the characteristic feature of the worthy citizen. He once incurred the displeasure of his fellow-citizens for his wise and moderate policy in Achaia, which they were ill-judged enough to reverse. We cannot doubt also that he was frequently attacked by political censors and enemies--the condition of eminence in every free state; but neither of these causes ruffled the dignified calmness of his political course. As he never courted popularity by unworthy arts, so he bore unpopularity without murmurs, and without any angry renunciation of patriotic duty. The mildness of his antipathies against political opponents at home was undeviating; and, what is even more remarkable, amidst the precedents and practice of the Grecian world, his hostility against foreign enemies, Bœotian dissentients, and Theban exiles, was uniformly free from reactionary vengeance. Sufficient proofs have been adduced in the preceding pages of this rare union of attributes in the same individual--of lofty disinterestedness, not merely as to corrupt gains, but as to the more seductive irritabilities of ambition, combined with a just measure of attachment towards partisans, and unparalleled gentleness towards enemies. His friendship with Pelopidas was never disturbed during the fifteen years of their joint political career--an absence of jealousy signal and creditable to both, though most creditable to Pelopidas, the richer, as well as the inferior man of the two. To both, and to the harmonious co-operation of both, Thebes owed her short-lived splendour and ascendency. Yet when we compare the one with the other, we not only miss in Pelopidas the transcendent strategic genius and conspicuous eloquence, but even the constant vigilance and prudence, which never deserted his friend. If Pelopidas had had Epaminondas as his companion in Thessaly, he would hardly have trusted himself to the good faith, nor tasted the dungeon, of the Pheræan Alexander; nor would he have rushed forward to certain destruction, in a transport of frenzy, at the view of that hated tyrant in the subsequent battle. In eloquence, Epaminondas would doubtless have found superiors at Athens; but at Thebes, he had neither equal, nor predecessor, nor successor. Under the new phase into which Thebes passed by the expulsion of the Lacedæmonians out of the Cadmea, such a gift was second in importance only to the great strategic qualities; while the combination of both elevated their possessor into the envoy, the counsellor, the debater, of his country, as well as her minister at war and commander-in-chief. The shame of acknowledging Thebes as leading state in Greece, embodied in the current phrases about Bœotian stupidity, would be sensibly mitigated, when her representative in an assembled congress spoke with the flowing abundance of the Homeric Ulysses, instead of the loud, brief, and hurried bluster of Menelaus. The possession of such eloquence, amidst the uninspiring atmosphere of Thebes, implied far greater mental force than a similar accomplishment would have betokened at Athens. In Epaminondas, it was steadily associated with thought and action--that triple combination of thinking, speaking, and acting which Isocrates and other Athenian sophists set before their hearers as the stock and qualification for meritorious civic life. To the bodily training and soldier-like practice, common to all Thebans, Epaminondas added an ardent intellectual impulse and a range of discussion with the philosophical men around, peculiar to himself. He was not floated into public life by the accident of birth or wealth, nor hoisted and propped up by oligarchical clubs, nor even determined to it originally by any spontaneous ambition of his own. But the great revolution of 379 B.C., which expelled from Thebes both the Lacedæmonian garrison and the local oligarchy who ruled by its aid, forced him forward by the strongest obligations both of duty and interest; since nothing but an energetic defence could rescue both him and every other free Theban from slavery. It was by the like necessity that the American Revolution, and the first French Revolution, thrust into the front rank the most instructed and capable men of the country, whether ambitious by temperament or not. As the pressure of the time impelled Epaminondas forward, so it also disposed his countrymen to look out for a competent leader wherever he was to be found; and in no other living man could they obtain the same union of the soldier, the general, the orator, and the patriot. Looking through all Grecian history, it is only in Pericles that we find the like many-sided excellence; for though much inferior to Epaminondas as a general, Pericles must be held superior to him as a statesman. But it is alike true of both, and their mark tends much to illustrate the sources of Grecian excellence--that neither sprang exclusively from the school of practice and experience. They both brought to that school minds exercised in the conversation of the most instructed philosophers and sophists accessible to them--trained to varied intellectual combinations and to a larger range of subjects than those that came before the public assembly, familiarised with reasonings which the scrupulous piety of Nicias forswore, and which the devoted military patriotism of Pelopidas disdained. On one point, the policy recommended by Epaminondas to his countrymen appears of questionable wisdom--his advice to compete with Athens for transmarine and naval power. One cannot recognise in this advice the same accurate estimate of permanent causes--the same long-sighted view of the conditions of strength to Thebes and of weakness to her enemies, which dictated the foundation of Messene and Megalopolis. These two towns, when once founded, took such firm root, that Sparta could not persuade even her own allies to aid in effacing them; a clear proof of the sound reasoning on which their founder had proceeded. What Epaminondas would have done--whether he would have followed out maxims equally prudent and penetrating, if he had survived the victory of Mantinea--is a point which we cannot pretend to divine. He would have found himself then on a pinnacle of glory, and invested with a plenitude of power, such as no Greek ever held without abusing. But all that we know of Epaminondas justifies the conjecture that he would have been found equal, more than any other Greek, even to this great trial; and that his untimely death shut him out from a future not less honourable to himself, than beneficial to Thebes and to Greece generally.[d] CONFUSION FOLLOWING EPAMINONDAS’ FALL [Sidenote: [362-361 B.C.]] So died Epaminondas--the ablest commander, the noblest citizen, the most stainless character, even if not the greatest statesman, of the Hellenic world. The combination of military ability with civic virtue, of physical prowess with intellectual culture and eloquence, of manly daring with humane feeling, of practical capacity with ideal aspirations, of merit with modesty, of glory with humility, of power with simplicity, has won for him the admiration of succeeding generations as of the whole ancient world. He fell a victim to a deplorable fratricidal war; and cities and citizens, instead of weeping and beating their breasts in penitence over the corpse of the high-hearted man, disputed jealously among themselves the honour of having transfixed his breast with the fatal thrust. But so great was his influence even in death that soon afterwards all the Greek states followed the counsel he had given, and concluded a peace based upon the recognition of the _status quo_. They all needed time for coming to fresh resolutions and collecting fresh forces. Sparta alone held aloof, refusing with obstinate consistency to acknowledge the political independence of Messenia. Agesilaus did not long survive his opponent. A year after the battle of Mantinea he marched to Egypt with an army of mercenaries, accompanied by thirty Spartan citizens, to fight in the service of the rebellious kings Tachus and Nectanebo against the Persians, out of revenge for Messenia’s having been declared independent by Artaxerxes. But he obtained little glory. Instead of being appointed commander-in-chief of the fighting forces, as he had hoped, he had to be contented with the position of a captain of mercenaries. The Egyptians were very much disappointed in their expectations to behold, instead of a knightly king, crowned with glory, an old man of eighty years, infirm, of small stature and poorly dressed, who, devoid of oriental royal dignity and the pomp and ceremonious state of oriental sovereigns, sat down on the grassy ground with his followers, to partake of a meagre repast. After some time he took his departure from the country of the Nile to return by way of Cyrene to his own country, having been royally rewarded by Nectanebo, but without having met the Persians in combat. He died however en route. His mourning companions took the corpse of Agesilaus to bury it in Sparta, the city of his fathers, whose highest power and decline he had witnessed. As regards generalship and magnanimity of disposition, the Spartan king stood far below the Theban citizen, but he equalled him in simplicity of habits and manner of living, in voluntary poverty, in disdain of earthly possessions, and in incorruptible rectitude and ardent patriotism. These were the last bright stars in free Hellas; but while Epaminondas shone forth to the following generations as the model of a high-hearted patriotic general, Agesilaus pointed out to his countrymen the adventurous path of foreign travel and accustomed them to the dishonourable vocation of a mercenary, to which henceforth Sparta’s rude citizens abandoned themselves more and more. [Sidenote: [361-360 B.C.]] The Athenians made better use of their opportunities. As long as Epaminondas lived, their enterprises on the sea were without success; so that several of their generals were condemned to death (as Leosthenes and Callisthenes), or a mulct was imposed upon them (as on Cephisodotus) because they had caused losses to the state on account of their negligence and their unsuccessful undertakings. But after the battle of Mantinea they not only succeeded in driving the Thebans completely away from the sea, but they were again successful in uniting the greatest part of the islands of the Ægean Sea (Eubœa, Chios, Samos, Rhodes, etc.) under their sea-hegemony; in strengthening their sovereignty in Chalcidice and Macedonia and on the Gulf of Thermæ; and, after the murder of the Thracian sovereign Cotys by two youths who had been brought up in Athens, in again bringing the Thracian Chersonesus under their power and opening the sea-route to the fertile coast of the Pontus by way of the Hellespont. As the murderers of a tyrant, the young men of Ænus, who executed this “divine” deed on the person of Cotys, were honoured by the Athenians with the rights of citizens and golden wreaths. But with the good fortune of the Athenians there also returned the old abuses. The dissolute mercenaries, poorly paid, committed acts of extortion and oppression; the sovereign assembly often violated the treaties based on equality of rights, imposed taxes and aids upon the allied cities, divided territories among Attic colonists (cleruchs) and forgot the principles of clemency and moderation which had won so many willing members to their second maritime confederation. Besides, there was a scarcity of able leaders to replace the aging generals, such as Iphicrates, Chabrias, and Timotheus, and there was also a waning of patriotic feeling. Having their own advantage more in mind than the greatness of their city, the generals tried to acquire independent possessions and dominions, an effort which was assisted by the increasing number of the mercenaries, who were taking the place of all the citizen levies. These conditions, combined with the secret intrigues of the Thebans, caused new dissatisfaction and brought about the deplorable social war, which led to the dissolution of the second Athenian maritime confederation at a time when the latter already comprised about seventy cities, as the disasters of the last years of the Peloponnesian War were the cause of the dissolution of the first.[b] Great changes have taken place in the history of Greece since we left the Athenian soldiers and sailors rotting in the mines of Sicily. A greater change is about to take place. Of this it is only necessary to say the word “Macedonia.” Before we trace the rise of these northerners it will be well to glance briefly at the busy circumstances of Sicily.[a] [Illustration: GREEK TERRA-COTTA (In the British Museum)] [Illustration] CHAPTER XLVII. THE TYRANTS IN SICILY [Sidenote: [410-405 B.C.]] The absence of federation which, in spite of the military superiority of the Greeks, had enabled the king of Persia to become master of Asiatic Greece and arbitrator of European Greece, was about to deliver the whole of Sicily into the hands of the Carthaginians. Segesta, constantly at war with Selinus, called them to its assistance in 410 B.C., as some years previously it had called the Athenians. Carthage was then at the height of its power; it raised an army of one hundred thousand mercenaries, and sent them into Sicily under the command of Hannibal, grandson of that Hamilcar who had been killed in the battle of Himera seventy years before this time. He began by taking possession of Segesta in the name of Carthage, then besieged Selinus, which was taken in 409, after a heroic resistance. All the inhabitants, men and women, old and young, were slain. The town was razed to the ground; the scattered ruins of its temples are still to be seen. Himera was also entirely destroyed. The greater number of the inhabitants had succeeded in escaping before the last assault; about three thousand were left, whom Hannibal put to death by torture in the very spot where his grandfather had fallen. Two years later he again came to Sicily with Himilco, at the head of 180,000 mercenaries, Libyans, Numidians, Iberians, and Campanians, and laid siege to the large commercial town of Agrigentum, the most important in Sicily, after Syracuse. He caused the tombs to be destroyed for the construction of an embankment; the plague which spread through his army, and of which he himself died, was considered a vengeance of the gods. His colleague, Himilco, offered up children to Moloch as an expiatory sacrifice. The Syracusans, who had come to the help of Agrigentum, completely defeated a body of forty thousand Iberians and Campanians. But the town began to suffer from famine; a large convoy of corn was seized by the Carthaginians. The inhabitants of Agrigentum, spoilt by luxury and incapable of supporting the fatigues of military life, had taken mercenaries into their service; these latter betrayed them and passed over to the enemy. At the end of a siege of six months, most of the inhabitants left the town by night and escaped to Gela. Himilco immediately entered the town and gave it up to pillage, massacred all the inhabitants who were left, and destroyed the buildings which had been erected by the Carthaginian prisoners after the battle of Himera. Magnificent ruins still bear witness to the splendour of Agrigentum, the richest of the Greek cities and one of the most beautiful in the world (406). Since her victory over the Athenian armies and fleets, Syracuse had become the capital of Sicily. A new code of laws, drawn up by Diocles, had made her constitution still more democratic; magistrates were chosen by vote. Little is known of this legislation, which is said to have been adopted by other Siceliot towns. The chief of the aristocratic party, Hermocrates, who had distinguished himself in the war against the Athenians, commanded the fleet sent by Syracuse to the help of the Peloponnesians and was defeated with them at Cyzicus. The Syracusans withdrew from a war in which they had nothing to gain and exiled Hermocrates. He tried to return to his country by armed force and perished in the attempt. Among those who had fought with him was a scribe named Dionysius, who was wounded and left for dead; this circumstance enabled him to escape the sentence of exile which was pronounced on the followers of Hermocrates. The invasion of the Carthaginians was a cause of fresh dissensions in Syracuse; the destruction of Agrigentum awoke alarm. In the assembly of the people Dionysius accused the generals of having caused, either through incapacity or treason, the misfortunes of Sicily. He was condemned to a fine for factiousness; but a rich townsman, the historian Philistus, promised to pay all the fines laid upon him. He continued to stir up the people and persuaded them to choose a new government, of which he himself was a member. The only thing still wanting was to get rid of his colleagues. “They also are betraying the republic,” he said, “and have sold themselves to the Carthaginians.” He recalled the exiles in order to make partisans of them. He was sent to Gela to rescue the people from the oppression of the rich; he condemned certain of the nobles to death and distributed their wealth among his soldiers. On his return to Syracuse he saw the people coming out of the theatre: “It is thus that you are deceived,” he exclaimed, “they keep you amused by entertainments while the soldiers are without the necessaries of life and the enemy is at our gates. Take back the power you have confided to me; I will not share it with traitors.” His friends said: “What honesty! He is the only upright man!” And he was made generalissimo of the troops, whose pay he immediately doubled. Then, as Pisistratus and so many others had done, he declared that there were plots to kill him because he loved the people. A bodyguard was given him of six hundred men; these he increased to a thousand and chose them from among the poorest of the people. He enlisted mercenaries, set the slaves free, filled all the government appointments with men who were devoted to his fortune, and settled in the isle of Ortygia where were situated the arsenals, and which commanded the great port (405). [Sidenote: [405-368 B.C.]] Now that he had become tyrant through the folly of the people, Dionysius fought the Carthaginians with no more success than the generals whom he had accused of treason. He was able to save neither Gela nor Camarina, and the entire population of these two towns sought refuge in Syracuse. Displeased by these defeats, the Syracusans tried, but all too late, to rise against him. Supported by his mercenaries, he stifled the rebellion, caused some of his enemies to be put to death, drove the others from the town, and maintained his power by fear. A plague stopped the advance of the Carthaginians and induced them to make peace, but they kept all their conquests, that is to say, more than two-thirds of Sicily, in exchange for a clause of the treaty recognising Dionysius as tyrant of Syracuse. He fortified the isle of Ortygia, of which he made a citadel, after driving out the inhabitants so as to make room for his mercenaries. Then he gave the best part of the Syracusan territory to his friends and to the magistrates; the rest was distributed in equal shares between the citizens, the freed slaves and resident foreigners. This alteration of property caused a rebellion; he shut himself up in his fortress of Ortygia and his mercenaries re-established his authority. Some days later, while the inhabitants were in the fields, busy gathering in the harvest, he had all the houses searched and all weapons removed. When he believed himself absolute master of Syracuse, he wished to extend his rule over the whole of the eastern coast of Sicily. He seized Ætna and Enna, destroyed Naxos and Catana which had been delivered to him by traitors, and sold their inhabitants in order to give their land to the Sicels of the surrounding country and to his Campanian mercenaries. The terrified Leontines opened their gates to him, and were carried to Syracuse. The Rhegians, uneasy at his advance, sent an army into Sicily; but, abandoned by the Messenians, who had at first joined them, they made peace with Dionysius and returned to Italy. In the meanwhile Dionysius was preparing to revenge himself on the Carthaginians. Syracuse was surrounded by ramparts which made it impregnable. Workmen from all the neighbouring countries, attracted by lure of high wages, were employed to make large supplies of arms and implements of war; it was at this time that the catapult was invented to cast stones and arrows. Numerous warships were built, some of them on a new model with four or five benches of rowers. When these preparations were completed, and mercenaries collected from all sides, Dionysius declared war on the Carthaginians, and, at the head of an army of eighty thousand men, successively re-captured all the towns which they had conquered seven years previously, Gela, Camarina, Agrigentum, Selinus, and Himera, besieged their principal fortress in the isle of Motya on the western point of Sicily, and took it by means of his implements of war (397). But the following year, Himilco landed at Panormus with one hundred thousand men, regained Motya and all the conquests of Dionysius, destroyed Messana, and after a naval victory in sight of Catana, besieged Syracuse by land and sea. Dionysius was obliged to restore to the citizens the arms which he had taken from them, and soon signs of rebellion were again perceived. But once more plague broke out in the Carthaginian army. Himilco paid three hundred talents [£60,000 or $300,000] for permission to withdraw with the Carthaginian citizens who were in his army, abandoning all his mercenaries who were taken and sold as slaves. Hostilities continued for two years longer and the Carthaginians finally made peace by giving up Tauromenium (392). This treaty gave Dionysius the opportunity to turn his arms against Magna Græcia, the conquest of which he had long meditated. He took Caulonia, Hipponium, Scylacium, and gave their lands to the Locrians who had made an alliance with him. Croton also fell into his power in spite of a vigorous resistance. Rhegium, which he had besieged for eleven months, finally surrendered; he destroyed the town and sold all the inhabitants. The Syracusan exiles sought refuge on the Adriatic Sea and settled at Ancona (387). Dionysius then ravaged the coasts of Latium and Etruria, where he stole a thousand talents from the temple of Agylla, made alliance with the Gauls who had just taken Rome, enlisted a large number of them among his mercenaries and sent them to the assistance of Sparta which had lately renewed its alliance with Syracuse and was now at war with the Thebans. He founded the town of Lissus in Illyria, and re-established an exiled prince in Epirus. In 383 he made a third war against the Carthaginians; after an alternation of victories and defeats, a treaty was made which fixed the limits of their possessions at the river Halycus. In a fourth war he took Selinus, Entella, and Eryx, but, his fleet being destroyed opposite Lilybæum, he did not succeed in driving them from the island, and the war again ended in a treaty. In the opinion of the ancients, Dionysius was a type of the godless, avaricious, and suspicious tyrant. In the temple of Zeus, in Syracuse, he replaced by a woollen coat the god’s golden coat, which, he said, was too cold in winter and too warm in summer. He stole the gold beard of Æsculapius, saying that the son ought not to have a beard when his father, Apollo, had none. As he was returning with a favourable wind from an expedition in which he had pillaged the temples: “See,” he said, “how the gods protect the ungodly.” Numerous anecdotes have been told concerning his perpetual fear: he always wore armour under his clothes; his room was surrounded by a moat which could only be crossed by a drawbridge; when he addressed the people it was from the summit of a tower; he did not dare to be shaved, and his daughters singed off his beard for him with red-hot nutshells; the prisons of the quarries were so arranged that he could hear the least sound. One of his courtiers named Damocles was vaunting the happiness of kings: Dionysius said that he would allow him to enjoy it for one hour; he let him lie on a couch of purple and gold before a well-spread table, and suddenly Damocles perceived above his head a sword suspended by a single hair. This anecdote has all the appearance of a philosophic parable. Those which have been related concerning the literary pretensions of Dionysius are scarcely more trustworthy. It is said that he sent Philoxenus, who found fault with his verses, to the quarries; some time later he had him brought back and read him other verses which he thought better; Philoxenus stood up and said, “Let them take me back to the quarries.” [Sidenote: [368-357 B.C.]] Dionysius had often sent tragedies to the Athenian competitions, but had had little success; however, at the time of the Theban war he had sent mercenaries to the help of the Spartans, then the allies of the Athenians; the latter, therefore, gave the prize to one of his tragedies called _Hector’s Ransom_. He celebrated this success by a magnificent feast at which he drank to excess. He was seized with a fever from which he died. Some say that he was poisoned by his son. He had reigned thirty-eight years (367). Dionysius was a bigamist; he married on the same day a Locrian and a Syracusan, the latter the daughter of one of his most active partisans. The son of the former, named like himself Dionysius, and who is called Dionysius the Younger, succeeded him without difficulty. Dion, the brother of his second wife, had no trouble in taking the direction of the government, for the new tyrant had no thought for anything but pleasure. Dion, a great admirer of Plato, had caused him to come to Sicily during the lifetime of Dionysius the Elder, who received the philosopher somewhat badly and even, it is said, had him sold as a slave. This should have taught Plato that a king’s court is not the place for a philosopher; however, after the death of Dionysius and the accession of his son, he returned at the request of Dion, and was very well received by Dionysius the Younger, who took lessons in geometry, and decreased the magnificence of the table, but made no attempt to carry out Plato’s communistic theories in Syracuse. After a short time, however, he imagined that Dion was only interesting him in philosophy to distract his attention from public affairs. He intercepted a letter which Dion had written to the Carthaginian generals asking them to address their communications only to himself. Dionysius showed the letter to Dion, accused him of treason, and made him embark for Italy. Plato was unable to obtain his friend’s recall. Dionysius even forced his sister Arete, the wife of Dion, to marry some one else (360). Dion returned three years later with eight hundred men whom he had recruited in Greece and appeared before Syracuse during the absence of Dionysius. The inhabitants received him enthusiastically, but he was unable to seize the citadel of Ortygia (357). Dionysius, defeated in a naval fight, retired to Locris with his riches, but his son Apollocrates remained in the citadel whose garrison held out for a long time. There were disputes in the town; an agrarian law was demanded. Dion was driven away, then recalled, and famine having forced the garrison of Ortygia to surrender, he remained master of Syracuse. Now was the time to re-establish the republic as he had promised; but his love of philosophy did not carry him to the point of renouncing power. He even caused a demagogue to be put to death for having demanded the destruction of the fortress of Ortygia which had been built for the sole purpose of protecting tyranny against the people. A short time after this, he, himself, was assassinated by the Athenian Callippus, his intimate friend (354). [Sidenote: [357-343 B.C.]] After a reign of two years Callippus was overthrown by Hipparinus and Nysæus, brothers of Dionysius and nephews of Dion. They reigned successively. Then Dionysius, after ten years’ absence, seized the city by surprise. But Hicetas, tyrant of the Leontines, forced him to take refuge in the isle of Ortygia. In the midst of this anarchy, and threatened, moreover, by an attack of the Carthaginians, the Syracusans implored help from Corinth, who sent one of her citizens, Timoleon, to the aid of her colony. Timoleon had previously saved the life of his brother Timophanes in a battle. Later on Timophanes had tried to usurp the tyranny at Corinth, and Timoleon joined his brother’s murderers. Haunted by his mother’s curse and troubled by his conscience, he was living in retirement when the Corinthians entrusted him with the mission of delivering Syracuse from tyranny. He set out with twelve hundred men, and after escaping the Carthaginian fleet, landed at Tauromenium, on the east coast of Sicily. When he reached Syracuse, Dionysius was besieged in his fortress by Hicetas; seeing that he could not defend himself against two enemies at the same time, rather than make terms with Hicetas, he offered to deliver Ortygia up to Timoleon on condition that he should be sent to Corinth with his riches. He lived there for several years, and is said to have opened a school for children, to have at least a similitude of royalty. Timoleon occupied Ortygia; but his position was difficult, for Hicetas had called the Carthaginians to his assistance, and, under command of Mago, they filled the port with one hundred and fifty vessels and the town with six thousand men. Fortunately Timoleon received from Corinth a reinforcement of ten vessels filled with troops. Catana and other Greek towns along the coast declared for him. Mago, on learning that the Corinthian garrison had succeeded in seizing Achradina, the principal suburb of Syracuse, believed that Hicetas had betrayed him, and feared lest all the Greeks should unite against him. He embarked his soldiers and set sail for Carthage. Hicetas, left with only his own troops, could no longer resist: he returned to Leontini with his army, and Timoleon, without the loss of a single man, was master of Syracuse. He began by doing what Dion had refused to do; he destroyed the fortress of Ortygia, built on its site courts of justice and restored to power the democratic legislation of Diodes. The town was half deserted; he recalled the exiles, and caused it to be proclaimed at the public games in Greece that Syracuse required colonists. Sixty thousand men answered this appeal. In order to relieve public poverty, he distributed the unoccupied lands to the poor, and sold the statues of the tyrants, except that of Gelo, the conqueror of the Carthaginians. He then turned his attention to the overthrow of tyranny in the other Siceliot towns, and began by forcing Hicetas to live simply as a private citizen. Leptines, tyrant of Engyum, consented to go to the Peloponnesus, as Dionysius had done, for Timoleon was anxious to show the Greeks the tyrants whom he had driven from Sicily. He also seized Apollonia and Entella and restored them their freedom. All the Greek towns sided with him, because he allowed them self-government according to their own inclination. Following their example, several Sican and Sicel towns asked to be admitted into alliance with him. [Sidenote: [343-337 B.C.]] Terrified by this commencement of a league between the towns, and by the increasing prosperity of Syracuse, the Carthaginians landed seventy thousand men at Lilybæum. Timoleon, who had only succeeded in collecting an army of eleven thousand men, advanced nevertheless against the enemy, whom he surprised on the banks of the brook Crimisus on Selinuntine territory. He established himself in a strong position, attacked the Carthaginians as they were crossing the river, and killed ten thousand of them, of whom three thousand were Carthaginian citizens. He imposed no onerous conditions, for Syracuse was not in a position to carry on a prolonged war: the limits of their territory were fixed at the river Halycus, to the west of Agrigentum, and they agreed to give no more help to the tyrants (338). Timoleon overcame those who were still left; Hicetas, who had again seized the power, was put to death, as were also Mamercus, tyrant of Catana, Hippon, tyrant of Messana, and some others. Timoleon then helped in the rebuilding and repeopling of the towns destroyed by the Carthaginians, Gela and Agrigentum, for instance, drove from Ætna a band of Campanians, Dionysius’ former mercenaries, who had made the town into a retreat for brigands. At last, his work being complete, he abdicated the power. But he always retained the great moral authority; towards the end of his life he became blind, and whenever there was an important discussion he was carried into the market place and his advice was always followed. He died eight years after his arrival in Sicily (337), and the expenses of his funeral were paid from the public treasury. The Syracusans instituted annual games in his honour, “because,” said the decree, “he drove away the tyrants, defeated the barbarians, repeopled the towns, and restored to the Siceliots their laws and institutions.”[b] [Illustration] [Illustration] CHAPTER XLVIII. THE RISE OF MACEDONIA We have seen that Greece was never a unified nation. There was even dispute, throughout the history of the Greeks as a people, as to just who were included under the caption “Greek.” In particular the question rose in reference to the Macedonians when they came to power under the leadership of King Philip, father of Alexander the Great. The Macedonians spoke a dialect of the Greek language, and Philip ardently contended that he and his people were entitled to be considered as true Greeks. The claim was hotly contested so long as the people of Greece, in the narrower sense, had the power to hold out against the man whom they regarded as a usurper; but in the end the claim of Philip received official recognition, and his subjugation of Greece was not regarded as the conquest of a foreigner, but merely as establishing the hegemony of one Greek state over the others, Macedonia now taking that leadership which had been held in turn by Athens, Sparta, and Thebes. In the broadest view this way of regarding the Macedonians as really Greeks was, perhaps, not illogical. The question of the exact origin of the Hellenes is still much in doubt, but the more the matter is investigated, the more certain it becomes that this wonderful people was a mixed race. Throughout history everywhere, the ethnologist points out that it is the mixed race which develops the greatest potentialities; and the case of Greece is no exception to the rule. One speaks of the Greeks as Aryans, and, therefore, naturally associates them with the Persians and Indians on the one hand and the Germanic races on the other. Yet, in point of fact, it is probably only in relation to their speech that any such close affinity exists. If the theory of the “Mediterranean race” with its central African origin be true, then the Greeks considered ethnologically were much more closely associated with the so-called Hamitic Egyptians and the so-called Semitic Hebrews, Babylonians, Assyrians and Phœnicians, than they were with the other so-called Aryan races. All discussion of this exact point is still somewhat problematical, but it is quite clear to the most casual physical inspection that the Greek is of a physical type much more closely akin to the dark-skinned and dark-eyed Mediterranean races than to the fair-skinned, blue-eyed, Indo-Germanic tribes. Yet the language of the Greeks is unequivocally of the Indo-Germanic family. Quite possibly, the explanation of this anomaly may be found in the theory of a prehistoric invasion of Greece by a Germanic race from the north, which mingled with the Mediterranean race already in possession of the soil, and gave to it the elements of the Indo-Germanic language, yet failed to stamp the traits of its physical personality upon the original occupants of the little peninsula. Whoever will, for a moment, consider the known history of the English people as an ethnic race contrasted with the history of the language which they speak, will at once see how very misleading may be any inferences as to racial status based solely upon the English language, were not such checked by other historical sources of information. This is but one case of many that might be given illustrating how philologists have slowly awakened to the fact that inferences based solely upon philological evidence must not be made too confidently in their application to questions of ethnology pure and simple. And so with the case of the Greeks, the fact of their Aryan speech must not blind us to the probability that, as a race, the Hellenes were not closely akin in recent times to the other races speaking Indo-Germanic languages. That the Greeks came to their favoured land from some unknown region and that they found a population there before them which gradually disappeared, presumably by intermingling with the invaders, we have already viewed as a current tradition. But this is only one item of the evidence which makes it clear that when one uses the word “Greek” he is speaking of a mixed race with no certain proof of common lineage and often with no stronger bond than that supplied by a common language. In one sense, then, whoever spoke the Greek language as his mother tongue was a Greek, whether the place of his nativity were the little peninsula of Greece proper, or an Ægean island, or the coast of Asia Minor, or the island of Sicily, or southern Italy, or Macedonia. Yet, from another point of view, it is quite clear that the Macedonians were in some respects different in temperament from the typical Greeks and, in particular, from the typical Athenians. One can hardly imagine a Philip or an Alexander as being of Athenian birth. We have learned to revere the Athenian for his culture, his love of the beautiful, his artistic instincts, and exceptionally for his abstract philosophy. But with all this one cannot escape the feeling that, in some sense, the Athenian even of the most brilliant period was a child. He was vain, arrogant, emotional, vacillating; in short, the reverse of all that usually goes to make a great leader or a great political people. The Spartan, to be sure, was more akin to the Macedonian, but rarely indeed did any Spartan show that breadth of political view which characterised Philip and Alexander, and at least the germs of which were latent in a considerable company of their associates and generals. And, indeed, in viewing the Macedonian race as a whole one is forced to the conclusion that here was a sturdier race, of firmer fibre, if also, and perhaps inevitably, of a lower æsthetic plane and a less elaborated culture. In accordance then as one views the case from one point of view or another, it might be made to appear that Philip was right in claiming that his kingdom was a part of Greece; or that the Athenians were right in combating that claim. But, whatever the theoretical right of the matter, here, as always in the history of nations, Might made the practical or political Right, and the Might lay with Philip. He was a great soldier, and he came at a time when the power of Greece proper had been almost utterly shattered by internal dissensions. Still, it was his desire to effect a peaceful conquest; he sought to rule Greece, but to rule it by diplomacy rather than by the sword, and he well-nigh succeeded. But for the stubborn resistance of Athens, urged on by Demosthenes, he would probably have gained all that he sought without striking a single warlike blow against the people whom he was pleased to regard as his fellow-Greeks; but the hostility of Athens at last made an appeal to arms inevitable, and on the field of Chæronea Philip proved the sword to be mightier than voice or pen, and effected the utter subjugation of all Greece. This accomplished, Philip was ready for that invasion of Persia which he had long planned. But, just as his preparations were completed, he was struck down by the hand of an assassin. His ambition was thus cut short, his life-work left unfinished. What he would have accomplished had he lived remains, of course, problematical. He was only in middle life when he fell, and he had already demonstrated that his powers were of the first order, and it is not improbable, had he been permitted to undertake the Asiatic invasion, which he planned, that he would have carried it out successfully. But all comment on such a question as this is, of course, idle. As the case stands, Philip’s glory has been almost eclipsed by that of his more brilliant son, and the history of the rise of Macedon seems important to after ages, not so much because it is the history of the overthrow of the Grecian independence, as because it is the history of the preparation for Alexander. The narrative of this preparation we must now view in some detail before passing on to the events of that extraordinary period which has been stamped in history for all time as the Age of Alexander the Great.[a] EARLY HISTORY OF MACEDONIA Æschylus attributes to King Pelasgus of Argos the statement that the dwellings of his people, named Pelasgians after him, extended to the clear waters of the Strymon, enclosing in their sweep the highlands of Dodona, the district about Pindus, and the wide region of Pæonia. According to the old soldier of Marathon, the inhabitants of the lands watered by the Haliacmon and the Axius were of the same race as those ancient populations which occupied the regions extending from Olympus to the Tænarum, and to the west of Pindus. This high mountain that separates Thessaly from Epirus and the highlands of Dodona forms in its northwestern slope, as far as the Schar-Dagh of ancient Scardus, the wall that divides Macedonia and Illyria, then turns eastward to the source of the Strymon and continues at the left of the river southeastward under the name of Orbelus, till it reaches the coast, thus forming a natural boundary between Macedonia and Pæonia, and keeping off the Thracian populations in the east and north. Within this enclosed territory, crossed by the Haliacmon, the Axius with its tributaries, and the Strymon, are a second and third mountain chain which, concentric like that of Pindus-Scardus-Orbelus, enclose the inner coast lands, Pella and Thessalonica. Hemmed in this double circle of valleys, through which break three streams, those of Haliacmon and Axius making their way side by side to the sea, the inhabitants of this district are set apart by nature as forming a sort of hermit race with the lowlands of the coast as their common territorial centre. According to Herodotus the people, called Dorians at a later period, were crowded out of Thessaly and established themselves near Pindus in the Haliacmon valley, being known there under the name of Macedonians. According to other accounts Argæus, from whom the Macedonians are supposed to descend, came from Argos in Orestis and settled in the region about the source of the Haliacmon, which explains the origin of the name, Argead, given to the house of the king. There are other traditions, widely received at that time, which assert that three brothers, Heraclidæ of the princely Argive race that sprang from Temenus, travelled north to Illyria, then penetrated into Macedonia and settled at Edessa, close to the mighty falls which mark the entrance of the waters into the fruitful coast lands. In Edessa, also called Ægæ, Perdiccas, youngest of the three brothers, founded the kingdom that was to include in its steady growth and unite in the name of Macedonia the neighbouring districts of Emathia, Mygdonia, Bottia, Pieria, and Amphaxitis. They belonged to the same Pelasgic race that once peopled all the Hellenic land; but were looked upon by the Hellenes, to whose degree of cultivation they by no means attained, as nothing more than barbarians or semi-barbarians. The religion of the Macedonians and their customs, attest this common origin; and although on the frontiers there was some intermingling with Thracians and Illyrians, the Macedonian speech resembled strongly the older Hellenic dialects. [Illustration: MEDALLION OF PHILIP II] Up to a very late day the hetæri were retained in the Macedonian system of warfare. Entering the land, as they indubitably did, with the founding of the kingdom, the Macedonian Heraclidæ met the same fate as their forerunners in the Peloponnesus, who, immigrants in a foreign land, were under the necessity of establishing right and might for themselves by the complete overthrow of the native power; with the only difference that here, more than in other Doric lands, the mingling of old and new traits formed a whole, which, retaining the vigour as well as the rough moroseness of the forefathers, presented a picture of heroic times in its least poetic aspect. Certain of the customs were like those of the ancient Franks; the warrior who had never slain a foe must wear the halter about his neck; the hunter who had never brought down a wild boar on the run must sit at the banquet, not recline. At the burning of a dead body the daughter of the deceased was the one designated to extinguish the flames of the pyre after the corpse was consumed; it is also related that the trophies won by Perdiccas in his first victory over the native tribes were torn, in obedience to the will of the gods, by a lion as a sign that friends had been gained, not enemies defeated; and it ever after remained a Macedonian custom never to erect trophies on defeating a foe, whether Hellenic or barbarian, a custom observed by both Philip after Chæronea, and Alexander after the conquest of the Persians and Hindus. The throne belonged by hereditary right to the reigning race, but the succession was not always so clearly fixed as to exclude all doubt or dispute. The greater the power wielded by royalty, the greater were the wisdom and ability made necessary on the part of those in whom it was vested, and it only too frequently happened that an indolent, incapable minor had to yield the throne in favour of his able brother or cousin. There was still another danger. Numerous examples show that to the younger sons of kings, also to aliens, portions of the land were yielded over to become hereditary possessions, under suzerainty of the king, it is true, but with such princely privileges and control that the owners were at liberty to maintain troops of their own. Arrhidæus, the younger brother of the first Alexander, had thus come into possession of the principality of Elymiotis in the upper part of the country, which descended from generation to generation of his race; and to Perdiccas’ brother Philip was given an estate on the upper Axius. The kingdom could not gain in power so long as these princely lines were not under complete subjection, and so long as the Pæones, the Agrianes, and the Lyncestæ supported them by establishing independent princes on their borders. Alexander I appears to have been the first to force the Lyncestæ, the Pæones, the Orestæ, and the Tymphæi to recognise the Macedonian supremacy, but the princes of those races retained their rank and all their princely possessions. [Sidenote: [490-480 B.C.]] Of the constitution and administration of Macedonia too little has been handed down to enable us to judge accurately of the extent of the king’s power; but when we are told that King Archelaus, during the last decade of the Peloponnesian War, brought into use an entire new set of regulations, that Philip II, in order to make uniform the currency of his realm, instituted throughout an improved system of coinage and also brought about a complete reform in military affairs, we cannot but conclude that to the kingdom belonged a power both great and widespread. Certainly habit and custom had a great deal to do with establishing right and made up for the deficiencies of the constitution. It can be said of the Macedonian rule that it as little resembled that of Asiatic despotism as its people were far removed from the bondage of slavery. “Macedonians are free men,” says an ancient writer. Not penestæ like the mass of the populations of Thessaly, not helots like the Spartans, they were a peasant race, holding independent and hereditary property and possessing a common system of laws and local courts, but all bound to give military service when called upon by the king of the land. Even at a later period the military forces were still held to be a union of the general population, with a place in the public assemblies, councils, and courts of law. In this army a numerous aristocracy came prominently to the front under the name of _hetæri_, or “companions of war,” as they are called in the songs of Homer. The members of this class can scarcely be designated as nobles, since the distinguishing marks of their condition were simply large possessions, noble origin, and a close connection with the person of the king, who always rewarded their faithful service with presents and honours. Neither did the families of those princely lines that formerly held independent possessions in the upper country and retained them even after coming under the suzerainty of the more powerful Macedonian kingdom hold aloof, but with their followers submitted themselves to the conditions that prevailed in the kingdom. Large cities, in the Hellenic sense of the word, were not to be found in these lands peopled by aristocrats and peasants; the settlements of the coast were independent Hellenic colonies, in striking contrast to the settlements of the interior. About the time of the Persian War, under the reign of the first Alexander, there began to appear unmistakable signs of an understanding between Macedonia and Greece. Already Alexander’s father had given refuge to Hippias, son of Pisistratus, after his flight from Athens, and had bestowed upon him lands in the Macedonian domain. Alexander himself, being obliged to follow the Persian army into Hellas, had exerted every means in his power--notably at the battle of Platæa--to assist the Greeks; and by reason of his descent from the Teminedians of Argos, which procured him admission to the Olympian games, had been declared a Hellene. Like him, Alexander’s immediate successors applied themselves with varying energy and ability to bringing their country into the closest possible touch with the trade, the political life, and the culture of the Greeks. The proximity of the rich commercial colonies of Chalcidice, that brought them into close and frequent relations with the main powers of Hellas, who, continually at war with each other, sought or feared the Macedonian influence; the almost constant, internal strife with which Hellas herself was torn and which drove many distinguished men from home to seek peace and honour at the wealthy court of Pella--were causes which acted powerfully to promote Macedonia’s advance. [Sidenote: [479-390 B.C.]] Particularly rich in progress and events was the reign of Archelaus. Though the rest of Hellas was torn and distracted by the Peloponnesian War, under his able guidance Macedonia made constant strides forward. He built fortresses, which the land had previously lacked, laid out streets, and developed the organisation of the army, “accomplishing,” says Thucydides, “more for the good of Macedonia than all the eight kings that had preceded him.” He founded festival games patterned after those of Hellas at Dion, not far from the grave of Orpheus, at which homage was paid to Olympian Zeus and the Muses. His court, the rallying-point of poets and artists and the common centre for all the Macedonian aristocracy, was a model for the growth of the entire race, and Archelaus himself passed in the eyes of his contemporaries for the richest and most fortunate of men. Upon the reign of Archelaus followed a period of intensified internal strife, brought about probably by a reaction against the innovations introduced by the growing royal power and directed against the new customs and culture instituted by the court. These modern tendencies found, as was natural, their chief supporters among the princely families and a portion of the hetæri, and were furthered by the politics of the leading Hellenic states, whereas the mass of the people, it appears, were quite indifferent to the advantages they offered. Even in King Archelaus’ time there had been an uprising led by the Lyncestian prince Arrhibæus, in concert with the Elymean Sirrhas, either to avenge the removal of the rightful heir to the throne, or to support the claim of Amyntas, the son of Arrhidæus who was grandson to the Amyntas whom Perdiccas caused to disappear. Archelaus had obtained peace by giving his elder daughter in marriage to Sirrhas, and his younger to Amyntas. He was killed, according to tradition, while on a hunting expedition. His son Orestes, who was a minor, succeeded him under the regency of Æropus, but the regent murdered Orestes, and himself became king. Æropus was undoubtedly the son of that Arrhibæus who belonged to the Bacchiadæ line of Lyncestians settled on the borders of Illyria that had so frequently aided his forefathers in their uprisings against the Macedonian kings. The conduct of Æropus and of his sons and grandsons during the next sixty years shows them to have persistently opposed the new monarchical tendencies of the royal house, and to have steadily upheld the laxer system of former times. The constant succession of revolts and the frequent changes of sovereigns that followed are proof of the struggles that were constantly being waged between the members of the royal line and the particularist party. Æropus was well able to uphold the dignity of his rank, but at his death in 392 Amyntas took possession of the throne; he was murdered by Derdas in 391 and Æropus’ son, Pausanias, became king. He was deposed in his turn by that Amyntas, son of Arrhidæus (390-369 B.C.), in whose person the oldest line of the royal house came again into its rights. [Sidenote: [390-360 B.C.]] The years of his reign were marked by internal disorders that made Macedonia ready to fall an easy prey to any attack. Summoned possibly by the Lyncestians, the Illyrians broke into the land and devastated it, defeated the army of the king, and forced the king himself to take flight beyond the borders. Argæus had been on the throne two years, whether he was Pausanias’ brother or a Lyncestian remains undecided. But aided by Thessaly Amyntas returned, and regained the kingdom, which he found in wretched plight, all the cities and coast lands being in the power of the Olynthians, while even Pella had shut its doors against the king. There followed as a result of the Peace of Antalcidas, the expedition of the Spartans against Olynthus, which was joined by Amyntas, also by Derdas, prince of Elimea, with four hundred horsemen. But success was not so easy as had been anticipated, and Derdas was taken prisoner. When Olynthus was finally subdued (380 B.C.), Thebes rose in revolt, and Sparta was defeated at Naxos and at Leuctra. Olynthus renewed the Chalcidian alliance; and Jason of Pheræ, uniting the Thessalian powers, compelled Amyntas III to enter his alliance. On the threshold of a brilliant success Jason was assassinated (370 B.C.). The irresolute Amyntas had not succeeded in upholding his sovereignty, and a little later he died. He was succeeded by the oldest of his three sons, Alexander II, who was soon brought by his mother, the Elymean, to an untimely end. She had for long been carrying on a secret love intrigue with Ptolemæus, of uncertain lineage, who was the husband of her daughter. She persuaded him, during an absence of Alexander in Thessaly, to take up arms against Alexander on his return, and the Thebans rushed to join the movement, it being necessary to impair Macedonia’s power before she could gain further victories in Thessaly. Pelopidas arranged a compromise whereby thirty of Alexander’s pages were placed as hostages and Ptolemæus received a part-principality, the name of which he assumed. This compromise seemed to be effected only to hasten the downfall of the king, who was assassinated during the course of a festival dance. His mother bestowed her hand upon the murderer, also the throne, to which he acceded under the name of guardian over the two younger sons, Perdiccas and Philippus (368-365 B.C.). Summoned from Chalcidice Pausanias, called “of the kingly line,” though to which branch of the royal family he belonged cannot be ascertained, commenced a vigorous campaign against the regent. His success was immediate; Eurydice fled with her two sons to Iphicrates, who was stationed with an Attic fleet in neighbouring waters, and he finally put down the revolt. Still Ptolemæus’ position had not been rendered more secure; the murder of Alexander was a breach of the agreement with Thebes, and the friends of the murdered king applied to Pelopidas, who advanced with a hastily gathered army. But Ptolemæus’ gold brought disaffection in the ranks, and Pelopidas was obliged to content himself with making a new agreement with the king. Ptolemæus placed his son Philoxenus and fifty hetæri as hostages for his good faith; this was perhaps the motive that brought Philippus to Thebes. When he reached manhood Perdiccas III avenged the death of his brother by causing the assassination of the usurper. To escape the influence of Thebes he devoted himself to the cause of Athens, fighting bravely against the Olynthians by the side of Timotheus. But about this time the Illyrians, doubtless at the instigation of the Lyncestians, came pouring over the borders. Perdiccas made a successful stand against this invasion, but in a desperate battle he and four hundred others lost their lives. The whole country was now devastated by the Illyrians, and laid open to the invasion of the Pæonians on the north. [Sidenote: [360-350 B.C.]] This was the situation when Philippus, representing Perdiccas’ son Amyntas, who was not yet of age, took command of the army in 359. He had been established in Macedonia since the death of Ptolemæus, having received a part-principality in consequence of a compromise to which Perdiccas had been advised by Plato, and the troops he already had about him formed a nucleus of support. The Illyrians and the Pæonians had already entered the land, and added to them were the former pretenders to the throne, Argæus, and Pausanias from Athens, with the support of the Thracian princes, and three illegitimate sons of his father, who also advanced claims to the throne. Backed by the sympathy and support of the entire country, Philip was equal to the first great emergencies; by the exercise of foresight, skill, and resolution, he rescued the land from the invaders, the throne from its false claimants, and the royal line from fresh intrigues and disasters. And when the Athenians, who had committed the folly of turning their back on him as thanks for his recognition of their claims on Amphipolis, became alarmed at his successes and formed with Grabos the Illyrian, Lyppæus, the Pæonian, and Cetriporis, the Thracian, an offensive and defensive alliance aiming to break Macedonia’s might before it became thoroughly established, Philip--having already taken Amphipolis and won over its inhabitants--proceeded rapidly to the frontiers and soon brought the barbarians, who were by no means ready for the conflict, under subjection. About 356, the frontiers were made secure against barbarian invasion for many years to come. Not long after this all the different intriguing parties had vanished from the court. Of the Lyncestians, Ptolemæus and Eurydice were dead; one of Æropus’ sons, Alexander, later became established at court by reason of his marriage with the daughter of the faithful Antipater; the remaining two sons, Heromenes and Arrhibæus, were received into favour by others high in station, and Arrhibæus’ two sons, Neoptolemus and Amyntas, were brought up at court. The two pretenders, Argæus and Pausanias, disappear about this time from historical accounts. The rightful heir to the throne, Perdiccas’ son Amyntas, in whose name Philip had at first carried on the sovereignty, was secured to Philip’s cause by marriage to his daughter, Cynane. PHILIP THE ORGANISER [Sidenote: [350-324 B.C.]] Thus Macedonia, under the rule of a prince who had dexterously and systematically developed and employed her resources, had risen to the height where at last she might entertain the thought of issuing forth, and, at the head of united Greece, entering the lists against the Persian might. In the historical accounts that lie before us the forces that were actually at work to produce Philip’s astonishing success seem curiously to be lost sight of. Though the writers follow, through all its cleverly planned movements, the hand that seized and drew into its owner’s possession all the Greek states one after another, they leave us in the dark as to every detail concerning the personality to which that hand belonged, and to which it owed its strength and firmness. Gold which they always show the hand to dispense at exactly the right moment, seems to be about the only means of effecting his purposes that they attribute to Philip. On looking closely into the inner life of the state two events stand forth that, arising from earlier causes, were made to yield their full significance by Philip, and in reality formed the basis of his power. “My father,” said Arrian’s Alexander to the mutinous Macedonians at Opis in 324, “took you under his protection when he was king, and you, destitute and clad in skins, wandered here from your mountains where you had tended your flocks of sheep that you could with difficulty protect against the Illyrians, the Thracians, and the Triballi; he gave you the chlamys of the soldiers and led you down into the plain, where he trained you to be the equal of the barbarian in the fight.” Every man capable of bearing arms had always indeed come forward in time of war, but only to return to his hearth or plough when the need of his services was at an end. The dangers by which Philip was beset when he first assumed the rule, the attacks against which he had to protect a land that was menaced on all sides, gave rise to a measure that, already set on foot in Archelaus’ reign, might have averted much of the subsequent internal strife, had it been brought to full development. On the basis of the duty owed by every man to his country in time of war, Philip brought into existence a standing army of native forces that, constantly increasing in size and strength, finally came to number forty thousand men. MILITARY DISCIPLINE Not only did Philip form this army, but he brought it up to a high standard of discipline and efficiency. It is related that, to the great displeasure of the lazy, he did away with the baggage-wagon of the foot-soldiers, and allowed but one groom to each horseman; also that he often, even in the heat of summer, organised marches of twenty-five miles or more, carrying provisions and accoutrements for several days. So severe was Philip’s discipline that in the war of 338 two officers of high rank who introduced a lute-player into the camp were immediately cashiered. In the service itself the strictest obedience was demanded from subordinates to superiors, and the system of advancement was based solely on the recognition of experience and merit. [Illustration: PHILIP AND HIS SOLDIERS] The benefits of this military constitution soon became apparent. A feeling was aroused in the various provinces and dependencies of the realm that they formed part of an organic whole, and that Macedonia had risen to the dignity of a nation. Above all, in their unity and the confidence inspired by this military system, the Macedonian races had the consciousness of possessing great efficiency in war, and an ethical strength resulting from a firm social organisation at the head of which was the king himself. The peasant population of this kingdom provided the king with hardy, tractable material from which to form his soldiers, and the nobility furnished in the hetæri higher military officials that were distinguished for zeal and a sense of the dignity of their calling. It was natural that an army of this kind should prove vastly superior to the bodies of mercenaries, or even the citizen troops employed by the Hellenic states; and that a people of this physical freshness and vigour should possess a decided advantage over Greek populations whose powers had deteriorated through too close a study of democracy, or from the evil effects of city life. Favoured by fortune in this respect, Macedonia had been enabled to retain her earlier qualities until such time as they should be needed for some great task; and in the conflicts between the king and the aristocracy she had, contrary to the example given by Hellas centuries before, let the victory fall to the king. Indeed, this sovereignty over a free and powerful peasant race, this military monarchy, guided the people in the direction, and made them assume the form and power, marked out by the democrats in Hellas, who had not, however, been able to bring their plans to realisation. MACEDONIAN CULTURE [Sidenote: [380-356 B.C.]] On the other hand education, the most marked result of Hellenic civilisation, must now be made a part of the life of the Macedonian people, thus completing the work already begun by former rulers. In this endeavour the example offered by the court was of utmost importance, the nobility naturally forming the class of highest culture in the land. The demarcation thus made had no parallel elsewhere, inasmuch as the Spartans were all uncultured, and yet had supremacy over the inferior classes of their nation; the free Athenians held themselves all to be without exception of the highest culture; while other states, having given up the ruling class or the introduction of a democracy, had, by emphasising the difference between rich and poor, reduced still lower the general intellectual standard. In the time of Epaminondas, Philip had lived in Thebes, where a pupil of Plato, Euphræus of Oreus, had exercised a potent influence over his future life. Isocrates calls Philip himself a friend of literature and education, and this esteem is proved by his appointment of Aristotle to the post of tutor to his son. He endeavoured by instructive lectures, instituted especially for the pages and young men about his court, to strengthen their attachment to his person, and to prepare them for the duties devolving upon nobles in their high position. The members of the aristocracy, first as pages, then as hetæri, or bodyguard of the king, and finally as commanders of the different divisions of the army, or as ambassadors to the Hellenic states, had frequent enough occasion to distinguish themselves and receive the reward due to faithful service; but a lack of that polish admired by the king and possessed by him in a high degree was everywhere noticeable. His bitterest adversary must admit that Athens herself could scarcely show his equal in social qualities; and whatever might be the tendency to perpetuate at his court the old Macedonian habits of brawling and drunkenness, the court festivals, receptions to foreign ambassadors, and celebration of national games, were all characterised by that splendour and magnificence dear to the Hellenic taste. The extent of the royal domains, the revenues from land taxes and shipping duties, the mines of Pangea, which yielded one thousand talents annually, and above all the order and economy introduced by Philip into the management of public affairs, elevated his kingdom to a position never before attained by any Hellenic state, save perhaps Athens in the time of Pericles. Even the Attic envoys were impressed by the character of the nobility gathered at the court of Pella, and by the opulence and military splendour that prevailed. Most of the noble families, such as the Bacchiadæ of Lyncestis, or the house of Polysperchon, or of Orontes, to whom the district of Orestis seems to have belonged, were of princely origin. To Perdiccas, the oldest son of Orontes, was given the command of the Orestian phalanx, which when he became hipparch passed over to his brother Alcetas. The most important of these princely houses was that of Elimea, which was founded by Derdas in the time of the Peloponnesian War. In the year 380, a second Derdas came into possession of the land and joined Amyntas of Macedonia and the Spartans in their attack on Olynthus; later he is mentioned as having been taken captive by the Olynthians. Philip’s motive for taking Derdas’ sister, Phila, to wife was either to bind Derdas’ interests faster to his own or to arrange some dispute that had arisen between them. The brothers of Derdas, Machatas and Harpalus, were given high offices at court. Yet the breach between Philip and this family was never completely healed, being kept open doubtless by the king, for the purpose of keeping the different members at a distance and in uncertainty as to his favour. Scarcely could Machatas be sure of a just decision in the court presided over by the king, and Philip took advantage of a fault committed by a single member of Derdas’ family to turn it to the public confusion of the rest, repulsing with considerable sharpness all Harpalus’ pleas in his kinsman’s favour. Among the noble families gathered about the court of Pella, two from their prominence deserve especial mention; these were the houses of Iollas and Philotas. Philotas’ son was that wise and faithful general, Parmenion, to whose command Philip repeatedly entrusted the most difficult expeditions. To him Philip owed his victory over the Dardanians in 356, and later his possession of Eubœa. Parmenion’s brothers, Asander and Agathon, as also his sons, Philotas, Nicanor, and Hector, carried on the glory of his name, and his daughters contracted marriages with the highest families of the land; one with Cœnus, the leader of the Phalanx, and the other with Attalus, the uncle of a later wife of the king. That a no less honourable and influential post was assigned to Iollas’ son, Antipater, or as he was called by the Macedonians, Antipas, is attested by the king’s words, “I have slept in peace--Antipas was on guard.” The tried fidelity of this statesman, his clear, cool judgment in military as well as political affairs, seemed to single him out as particularly qualified for the high position of viceregent he was soon to fill. He gave his daughter in marriage to the son of a noble Lyncestian family, as being the surest means of gaining their support; his sons, Cassander, Archias, and Iollas, did not attain prominence till later. Similar to the development of the court was that of the Macedonian nation under Philip’s rule; but to this statement we will add that, owing as much to the position formerly held by the state as to the power of Philip’s personality, the monarchical element of necessity predominated in the political life of the country. We must first consider all the facts in their relation to each other before we can fully understand Philip’s character and methods of procedure. At the centre of a mass of contradictions and disparities of the most unusual nature, a Greek in his relations to his own people, a Macedonian to the Greeks, he exceeded the latter in Hellenic craft and perfidy, and the former in directness and vigour, while he was superior to both in grasp of purpose, in the logical pursuance of his plans, in reticence, and in rapidity of execution. He was proficient in the art of embarrassing his adversaries, always presenting himself before them under a different aspect, and advancing upon them from a different direction from that expected. By nature voluptuous and pleasure-loving, he was as reckless in the indulgence of his appetites as he was inconstant, remaining withal perfect master of himself even when seeming most under the sway of passion; indeed, it is to be questioned whether it was in his virtues or his faults that his true nature was most prominently displayed. In him are united, as are the physical features of a portrait, all the different characteristics of his time--the shrewdness, the polish, the frivolity, coupled with great suppleness and versatility, and the capacity for high thoughts. OLYMPIAS, MOTHER OF ALEXANDER [Sidenote: [359-336 B.C.]] In striking contrast to that of Philip was the character of Olympias, his wife. She was the daughter of Neoptolemus, the Epirot king, and having known her in his youth at Samothrace, Philip had married her with the consent of her uncle and guardian, Arymbas. Beautiful, reserved, passionate, Olympias was a devotee of the secret rites of Orpheus and Bacchus, and practised in the magical arts of Thracian women. During nocturnal orgies, it is related, she was frequently to be seen rushing through mountain paths with the thyrsus and winding serpents in her hand; and in her dreams were repeated the fantastic pictures with which her brain was filled. The night before her marriage she dreamed, according to tradition, that she was exposed to the fury of a terrific storm, during which a burning thunderbolt fell into her lap which, flaming up ever higher and higher, finally disappeared in its own wild blaze. [Illustration: BRONZE MODEL OF A GRECIAN BOAT] When tradition further relates that among other signs given on the night of Alexander’s birth the temple of Artemis in Ephesus, which, with Megabyzus and his eunuchs and the hieroduli of the Hellenes formed a striking example of true oriental heathenism, was burned to the ground; and that simultaneously with the information of the birth of his son, Philip received the news of a triple victory--it simply expresses in popular form the significance of a hero’s entrance into the world, and the great thoughts associated with such an event. Theopompus says of Philip, “Everything considered, Europe has never produced a man that could equal the son of Amyntas.” Yet the work that he had set as the aim of his existence was not accomplished by the scheming, resolute, tenacious king. He may have used this aspiration, it having root in the very nature of Greece’s history and culture, to bring into union the whole Greek world; but he was compelled rather by the exigencies of the situation in which he was placed than by the inherent power of the inspiration itself, and failed to follow it out to full fruition. Beyond the sea was the land wherein lay greatness and the future of Macedonia; but the glance that he strained towards this land would often become dimmed, and the solid structure of his plans be obscured under the airy figures of his desire. Philip’s ambition to accomplish a great work was shared by all about him, both the aristocracy and the common people; it was the undertone that was heard through every phrase of Macedonian life, the alluring possibility that was continually beckoning out of the future. The Macedonian armies fought against the Thracians and gained victories over the Greeks; but the Orient was the real object for which they fought and conquered.[b] THE MACEDONIAN PHALANX [Sidenote: [358-357 B.C.]] The Spartans had created a system of tactics, that is, a military ordnance, which was adopted by all the other Greeks. The Thebans added to it the system of compact masses, the advantage of which was demonstrated by the victory of Leuctra. Philip, formed in the school of Epaminondas, perfected this system and made of it the Macedonian phalanx, which Plutarch compared to a monstrous beast bristling with iron. It was a mass of hoplites, sixteen files deep, pressed close against each other and armed with a sort of pike seven yards long, called _sarissa_. The men in the first five ranks held this weapon in both hands, their faces turned to the enemy. The pikes of the first rank extended five yards beyond the line of battle, those of the second, four, and so on to the fifth, whose lance ends were also a yard beyond the breasts of the men next behind. The remaining ranks pressed forward against the first and prevented their retreating, holding their _sarissæ_ with the points upward, resting upon the shoulders of the men in front, and this wilderness of spears effectually warded off the darts of the enemy. Irresistible on level ground, but without ability to make a quick change of front or a rapid evolution, this cumbersome body of infantry was supported in the rear and on the flanks by the light infantry of peltasts, who commenced the conflict. Before and at the sides ran the archers and frondeurs, an irregular troop composed of strangers, who, when need came, closed in behind the wings. The cavalry of the hetæria, or companions of the king, armed with a javelin and a sabre and formed of young men belonging to the highest nobility, constituted, with the phalanx, the principal force of the Macedonian armies. There was further a body of light cavalry and a corps of engineers attached to the service of the siege artillery, which consisted of balists and catapults, recently invented machines for the purpose of firing darts at the enemy and boulders against the ramparts of towns. The establishment of a permanent army was Philip’s most important military innovation. Under Philip’s weak predecessors the multiplicity of pretenders to the throne had rendered the nobles fractious and virtually independent; but they had under them neither penestæ as in Thessaly, nor a helot as in Sparta. Without openly abolishing the ancient privileges, Philip contrived to make them inoffensive by transferring them to the army, where there was always a military and political council. The nobles were little by little induced to leave their estates, and were held permanently at court by the attraction of pleasure and high appointments. It was held an honour among them to have their sons received in the corps of the hetæria, and these young members of the king’s bodyguard, fulfilling domestic offices about his person, were in reality hostages delivered over into his hands. “Never,” says Titus Livius, “were seen slaves so servile in the presence of the master, so arrogant elsewhere.” As regards the common people, nothing whatever was changed in their condition. They had never, as in Greece, formed a political body, and there was no Macedonian city. Apparently everything took place by popular consent, but the army was the Macedonian people. Philip frequently harangued his troops; a proceeding that offered no danger, since the soldiers of a bellicose chief never withhold from him their approbation. Macedonia was a nation of soldiers; hence its government, maintaining a permanent army and engaged in perpetual wars, could be none other than a military monarchy. THE WAXING OF PHILIP As soon as he had made his kingdom safe from the attacks of barbarians, Philip wished to extend his dominion to the sea, access to which was closed by the Grecian colonies. Some of these had ranged themselves under the protection of Athens, others under that of Olynthus. Amphipolis was independent; Olynthus and Athens had an equal interest in preserving this independence and Philip himself had formally recognised it; nevertheless it was decided not to hold to this obligation, but to seize Amphipolis. It was necessary to prevent the Olynthians and Athenians from uniting for its defence, and in this endeavour Philip made use of wile, he possessing, even in a greater degree than Lysander, the combined qualities of the fox and the lion. He persuaded the Athenians that his only desire in taking Amphipolis was to deliver it to them in exchange for Pydna, a Macedonian town which had placed itself under their protection. At the same time he made sure of the neutrality of the Olynthians, and even obtained help from them by delivering to them Anthemus, and by promising them Potidæa, which belonged to the Athenians. The latter, over-confident of his good faith, did not respond to the appeal of Amphipolis for help. Philip took the town, and afterwards treacherously entered and took Pydna, keeping them both. The Athenians had been outdone, but they could not seek vengeance for this perfidy, as they were engaged at the time in the war of the allies, and had need of all their forces to carry it to an end. This encouraged Philip to take another step; he seized Potidæa, which was occupied by an Athenian garrison, politely sent back the garrison to Athens, and delivered the town to the Olynthians, whom he wished to place in a position of conflicting interests towards the Athenians (357). Master of Amphipolis, Philip crossed the Strymon with the intention of possessing himself of the mining region of Mount Pangea. He founded there upon the site of the ancient Thasian city Crenides, a new town which he called Philippi, upon the money of which was imprinted the head of Hercules, ancestor of the Macedonian kings. The city of Philippi was at once a military post, the entrance to Thrace, and a centre of exploitation for the mines of Mount Pangea. These mines, far better operated than they had been by the Thasians and Athenians, furnished Philip with an annual revenue of a thousand talents, [£200,000 or $1,000,000] out of which he made the handsome gold coins which bear his name. This source of riches which enabled him to support his army and to buy traitors in the Greek cities, contributed to his greatness at least as much as the phalanx. He declared that no city was impregnable into which could be driven a mule laden with gold pieces.[c] [Illustration: GREEK MASKS] [Illustration: FRAGMENT OF SCULPTURE, SHOWING OARSMEN IN GALLEY] CHAPTER XLIX. THE TRIUMPHS OF PHILIP DEMOSTHENES, THE ORATOR The trite proverb that “the pen is mightier than the sword,” like all other proverbs, expresses hardly half the truth. Never was there a more definite combat between the two sharp instruments than in the history of Greece at this period, for that history becomes hardly more than a pitched battle between a splendid organiser of armies and a splendid captain of arguments, and the parallel is the closer inasmuch as Demosthenes, though commonly thought of as an orator, was much more distinctly a writer; for he was decidedly inferior as a speaker to his great rival Æschines, and his orations are chiefly valuable for their logic and their cautious reasoning. Unlike the perishable glories of the art of oratory pure and simple, the art of Demosthenes has come down to us in considerable completeness, and forms a text-book whose eloquence is little appreciated by the students that reluctantly unravel its close-knit fabric. As this duel between the king of Macedonia and the manufacturer’s son of Athens was so nearly a combat of equals, it will be well to cast a brief look at the biography of Demosthenes, since we have given so much attention to the formation of Philip’s character.[a] The father of this great orator was an Athenian by birth, and exercised the trade of an armourer, by which he acquired considerable wealth. He married the daughter of one Gylon who had settled upon the borders of the Euxine Sea and contracted an alliance with a rich heiress of the country.[15] At the age of seven Demosthenes was deprived of his father, who left him a fortune which entitled him to rank with the wealthiest citizens. Though guardians had been appointed to manage his estate and direct his education, they seem to have dilapidated the one, and neglected the other. Left at an early age entirely to himself, he launched out into expenses with all the extravagance and vanity of youth, acted as choregus or president of theatrical entertainments, and equipped a ship of war for the service of the republic. He spent the first part of his life without any fixed purpose or aim, indulging in such a state of indolence and effeminacy, as to have his name stigmatised by a term of reproach [Batalos]. But the seeds of genius, being either allowed to shoot up in wild luxuriance or to lie dormant through neglect, were soon to spring up with amazing vigour. He determined thenceforth to devote himself wholly to the study of eloquence. At that time learning of all kinds, but particularly philosophy and the art of rhetoric, was cultivated with great eagerness by the Athenian youth. Plato had established his school in the Academy, and was attended by a vast concourse. Demosthenes attended it with great assiduity, as well as that of Isæus the rhetorician. After these preparatory studies, he tried his strength against his guardians, whom he obliged to refund a part of his property. Emboldened by this success, he mounted the tribunal to harangue the people upon the state of affairs, but was heard with very little attention, and no signs of approbation. Not discouraged by this unfavourable reception, he made a second attempt and was equally unsuccessful. As he retired, exceedingly depressed by his ill-success, and determined in his mind to relinquish a pursuit for which nature seemed to have rendered him unfit, by denying him the free use of the organs of speech, and a sufficient quantity of breath to articulate distinctly a sentence of moderate length, he was met by one of his friends, a comedian, who exhorted him to conquer the natural and acquired defects under which he laboured. He instantly set about correcting, with the greatest perseverance and most extraordinary means, his rapid and inarticulate pronunciation, ungraceful and awkward gestures in declaiming, and several natural defects under which he laboured.[c] The anecdotes of Demosthenes’ struggle with his defects are remembered by many people to whom the very name of King Philip is obscure. These anecdotes rest upon the orator’s own authority. The reader need hardly be reminded of the hours he spent talking with his mouth full of pebbles, shouting against the roar of the stormy ocean, practising his gestures before a mirror, expanding his lungs by running and by declaiming as he climbed the steep hills of which Greece is made, shaving half his head to compel himself to keep indoors at his studies, and shutting himself up for months at a time in an underground room where he copied all Thucydides eight times, and polished his own phrases to incandescence. Thus prepared, he undertook a losing battle in defence of that system of municipal isolation and jealousy which he thought of as freedom, but which had brought on Greece innumerable crimes and sorrows and kept the little peninsula always under the shadow of complete disaster before a larger foe. In a sense, Demosthenes may be compared with the advocates of States’ Rights in the United States before the Civil War, except that the Americans never dreamed of carrying their theories to such an extent. To put the two instances on a par, it would be necessary to imagine the Southerners of America demanding not merely that the states have no federation whatsoever, but that even the smallest town of each state should go its own petty way. ÆSCHINES, THE RIVAL OF DEMOSTHENES Heroic as the figure of Demosthenes is in many respects one must not forget to do justice to the opposition he met, not only from Macedonia but from within his own city. Posterity is likely to generalise too vigorously, and Æschines has suffered more than his due from the fact that he happened to be the opponent of Demosthenes. It is customary to think of Æschines as a traitor, a hypocrite, and the paid attorney of Philip in Athens. Yet it might be well to remember that if his advice had been taken and the Macedonians treated with welcome instead of warfare as preached by Demosthenes, the result would have been exactly the same except that much bloodshed would have been saved and a loathsome amount of intrigue and villainy avoided. When Demosthenes is praised for his determination and persistence in his one idea, Æschines must be praised for the same to the same degree. When sympathy is felt for Demosthenes in the enmity he met, it must be remembered that Æschines suffered exile and suffered it with dignity. Æschines was never proved guilty of accepting money from Macedonia, while Demosthenes gloated over the poverty of Æschines and boasted of his own riches. On the other hand it is known that Demosthenes accepted money from Persia. And, if one may be permitted to distinguish between degrees of guilt in bribery, one might feel that Persian money was far dirtier for a Grecian to handle than the semi-Grecian gold of Macedonia, coming from the hand of a king whose great ambition was to organise Greece into a federated monarchy and lead her against Persia. Æschines claimed to have been of distinguished blood, and, while Demosthenes declared him to be of the lowest possible origin, and that dishonest, he certainly represented the aristocratic party. His friendship for Philip’s cause cannot be imputed to a cowardly desire for peace at any price, since he proved himself a brave soldier, while Demosthenes threw away his shield and fled from the very battle-ground of Chæronea to which his eloquence had summoned the Greeks. Æschines was a writer of great skill and the three of his orations still extant are rated almost as high as those of Demosthenes. Æschines seems to have had a far better voice and presence than the effeminate student whom posterity thinks of as a majestic thunderer. The good and ill in the character of the latter have been nowhere more briskly summarised than by Prévost-Paradol[d]: THE UNPOPULARITY OF DEMOSTHENES “Demosthenes was never entirely popular. He had nothing grand in him but his eloquence and will. Dignity of character was wanting. Is it to be said that the highest virtues were necessary in Athens for the popularity of a political man? By no means. Virtue was a title, but the contrary of virtue had also its influence when it was joined to elegance. For Demosthenes, who owed a ridiculous surname [Batalos] to hidden debauches, and who devoted the rest of his youth to an ungrateful work, had neither the graces of vice nor the dignity of virtue. He was neither Aristides nor Alcibiades. Nor had he the easy levity of Cleon and many other demagogues. He was a man of anxiety and toil. He had not the good-natured and happy insolence of a popular orator, who plays with the people and himself, and enlivens the tribune: neither did he possess that which was the contrary, that is to say, natural dignity, the majestic calm which made Pericles the organ of divine reason, a kind of medium between Athens and its destiny, between the people and the spirit of the republic. Demosthenes was violent and laborious. His discourses smelt of oil, but smoothness was absent from them. It was premeditated vehemence, the result of art as much as of inspiration. In short, the people had seen this orator raise himself slowly from mediocrity, and buy his power with long night studies; he inoculated himself patiently with genius. They had hissed at Demosthenes and had seen him come back stronger; they had hissed again and he had returned all-powerful. The mob is wrong in rarely pardoning such marvels. The mob, with eternal injustice, more willingly gives its approbation to the idleness of genius than to the fertile preparation of work; it adds its partiality in favour of destiny, and the glory which gives itself is more brilliant in its eyes than that which must be conquered. The conduct of Demosthenes, as haughty as his eloquence, would often have irritated a less suspicious democracy. This energetic spirit, nourished by contests, which struggle and effort had alone rendered fruitful, never distrusted its natural impetuosity. Demosthenes applied to political difficulties the same violence he had so happily used against his natural difficulties; he treated his adversaries like the obstacles which had prevented his becoming eloquent. One day an accomplice of Philip, Antiphon, arraigned before the assembly of the people, is sent away acquitted. Demosthenes snatched away the benefit of the popular sentence, arraigned him before the Areopagus, and never rested until he was condemned to death. When has a democracy patiently allowed itself to be thus defended against itself and its judgments broken? “Demosthenes was of the aristocracy; the aristocracy of money, it is true, but it is sufficient to read Aristophanes to feel that this aristocracy was the heaviest to bear, when one had the misfortune to belong to it. Demosthenes was rich, the son of riches, and he boasted about it with perilous intemperance. In the _Discourse on the Crown_ he opposed his fortune to the poverty of Æschines, with a disgust and hardness contrary to the Athenian spirit. “Add to so many causes of unpopularity, the natural inconsistency of the people, the sacrifices Demosthenes claimed from them, the dangers and the reverses of his politics, and one will be surprised at the lasting power of this great man. The explanation thereof is entirely in the strength and clearness of his wonderful genius. Every day he showed his prodigious eloquence, which consisted in raising his audience above its ordinary intelligence, communicated for a moment to the crowd the generosity of a great soul and the divination of a superior mind. He made the people capable of feeling what was noble in politics, and understanding what was necessary. He showed them in this policy the natural result of the Athenian destiny. He identified his work with the work of that superior power against which all complaint is useless and all anger ridiculous, the work of Necessity.” But perhaps the most satisfactory claim Demosthenes has on the memory of all time is to be found in that inevitable beauty which surrounds a losing battle fought to the end. Professor Jebb[e] has said, “As a statesman, Demosthenes needs no epitaph but his own words in the speech _On the Crown_: ‘I say that, if the event had been manifest to the whole world beforehand, not even then ought Athens to have forsaken this course, if Athens had any regard for her glory, or for her past, or for the ages to come.’” PHILIP’S BETTER SIDE But finally, while we are endeavouring to be judicial, it is appropriate to think of the better side of King Philip. He, too, had obstacles to overcome, and he suffers from the pathetic consequences of success; for we forgive the weaknesses and vices and the underhand measures of the one who fails, but we are prone to impute the success of the man who succeeds, purely to the evil of his ways. Once more we may quote Prévost-Paradol[d]: “Philip had closely observed Greece, with its incurable and daily augmenting weaknesses, and he had foreseen, as a magnificent future, the reunion of these powerless and divided people, under his sovereign authority. He had understood that the Grecian empire, defended by mercenaries and void of citizens, belonged to those who could put in the ranks the greatest number of trained soldiers, and that patriotism had no longer any part to play in this supreme struggle. The instinct and passion of craftiness, patience, the art of bribery, made him eminently suitable for those corrupting and lying manœuvres, which divide the enemy and prepare victory. And to these precious gifts were added an unrestrained ambition, sufficiently strong so as not to draw back in the face of any danger, sufficiently enlightened only to seek opportune contests, and to become great only through success. It is because Philip always saw ahead of his actions, and hoped for great things, that they were always appropriate and useful, and that he did them with such terrible activity. He gave himself up entirely to intrigues, to battles, to the formation of his army, to the subjection of Greece, and to vast hopes. “It is with a sort of terror that Demosthenes saw and described him as being consumed by desires always greater, and carried away by a hidden strength from enterprise to enterprise. ‘I saw Philip with one eye put out, one shoulder broken, a crippled hand, a wounded thigh, abandon to fortune without ceremony or hesitation all that it wished to take of his body, provided the rest remained powerful and honoured.’ Who does not see that his unchecked activity followed a more elevated aim than the submission of Greece and that this great man, in a hurry to have finished, was afraid of seeing life suddenly fail his ambition? What could Greece do to such a genius, sustained by such a character?” [Illustration: RUINS OF THE GATE OF THE PROPYLEA OF ATHENS] Professor Bury[f] is even more direct in Philip’s praise and in blame for Demosthenes: “To none of the world’s great rulers has history done less justice than to Philip. The overwhelming greatness of a son greater than himself has overshadowed him and drawn men’s eyes to achievements which could never have been wrought but for Philip’s life of toil.” He also notes that we have no information of Philip’s stupendous conquest of Thrace, and that what we know of him at all has come through Athenian mouths and chiefly from “the malignant eloquence” of Demosthenes, on which account the Greek history of Philip’s time has often been regarded “as little more than a biography of Demosthenes,” whose policy Professor Bury finds retrograde and retarding, unrelieved by any new ideas. The time needed an Athenian statesman of adaptability and judgment. In the long look, Æschines was more nearly that man than Demosthenes.[a] THE SACRED WAR [Sidenote: [359-351 B.C.]] Alexander, the tyrant of Pheræ, was assassinated in 359 by his brothers-in-law, at the instigation of his wife, Thebe, she having taken care to deprive him of his sword while he slept and to remove the dogs which guarded the entrance to his chamber. She then introduced her brothers, and on their hesitating to deal the blow she threatened to awake her husband. The murderers assumed Alexander’s tyranny, and one of them, Lycophron, was on the throne when Philip was summoned to oppose him by the powerful family of the Aleuadæ of Larissa, who, like the Macedonian kings, pretended to descend from Hercules. Philip was then besieging Methone, the only city of the Thermaic Gulf which still formed part of the Athenian federation. After having received a wound which cost him one eye, he took the city, razed it to the ground, and seized the occasion which then offered to enter Thessaly. Lycophron having made an alliance with the Phocians, Phayllus, brother of Onomarchus, came to his aid with seven thousand men. Philip defeated Phayllus, but was himself defeated by Onomarchus, who forced him back into Macedonia while he, Onomarchus, returned to Bœotia to gain possession of Coronea. But Philip reappeared shortly with a new army: his forces united to those of Thessaly amounted to twenty thousand men and three thousand horses. Against the Phocians, who had stolen the treasure of the temple of Delphi, he appeared as an avenger of Apollo, and all his soldiers wore crowns made of laurel leaves from Tempe. The encounter took place near the Gulf of Pagasæ, where was stationed an Athenian fleet. Philip obtained a complete victory, due principally to the Thessalian cavalry. The Phocians lost six thousand men; of those made prisoners three thousand were cast into the sea as being sacrilegious, but many of them were able to reach the Athenian vessels by swimming. Onomarchus had been killed in battle, and his body crucified. Lycophron obtained by bribes permission to retire to the Peloponnesus with his troops, delivering the city of Pheræ over to Philip, who seized the port of Pagasæ and the fleet constructed by Alexander. Philip caused to be paid over to him by his Thessalian allies, as war indemnity, a large part of the revenues of the country. He wished to penetrate farther, and under pretext of entering Phocia marched towards Thermopylæ in order to take up his position on a spot that was the key to all Greece. But an Athenian corps commanded by Diophantus occupied the pass, and Philip was obliged to turn back (352). THE FIRST PHILIPPIC [Sidenote: [351 B.C.]] [Illustration: DEMOSTHENES] It was at this epoch that Demosthenes pronounced, before the people of Athens, his first Philippic. So absorbed had been the Greeks by their private rivalries that they had paid no heed to the rapid and increasing progress made by the Macedonian monarchy. One man alone saw the danger; he had no other arms than his patriotism and his eloquence, but with these he fought valiantly, and though he could not preserve to his country liberty, he at least preserved its honour. The unequal conflict which was about to take place between Demosthenes and Philip was not alone a duel between the ablest of politicians and the greatest of orators; it was a duel to the death between two principles, monarchism and republicanism. These two principles had once before, in the reign of Xerxes, been arrayed against each other; but at that time the Greeks were able to forget their private differences in the common danger, and to superiority of numbers they had opposed, not alone heroism, which does not always suffice to conquer, but military tactics. Now conditions were different; Philip had borrowed of the Greeks their tactics, which he brought to perfection, and he managed to turn to his own advantage the condition of the land, now more than ever divided. It was never again to have that unity of military command so necessary in the face of the enemy. The hegemony of Sparta which Athens nobly accepted in the Median War was forever destroyed, and Sparta, which struggled vainly under its double burden, Megalopolis and Messene, took no notice of the progress of Philip. Thebes, which had broken Sparta’s power, was not strong enough to take its place, and foolishly inviting the approach of the enemy, repented too late and died in expiation of its fault. Athens remained, but how fallen from its former condition of active energy. In vain Demosthenes tried to awaken it; it asked but to sleep the long sleep of worn-out races. “When, Athenians,” cried the great demagogue, “will you rouse and do your duty? What new event, what pressing need, do you await? What contingency more urgent for free men than the danger of dishonour? Will you always assemble in the public squares to ask each other, ‘Well, what is new?’ What can be newer than a man from Macedonia making himself victor of Athens and master over all Greece? Is Philip dead? No, he is only ailing. But what matter to you if he be sick or dead; if heaven were to deliver you from him to-day, to-morrow you would cause another Philip to arise, for his victorious advance is far less a result of his own power than of your inertia.” The war of the allies had exhausted Athens’ principal source of revenue, and, as frequently happens in the case of spendthrifts who are obliged to economise, the city preferred to do without necessities rather than deny itself the superfluous; the sovereign people refused absolutely to curtail its civil list. Pericles in instituting the public funds could not foresee that the day was to come when the Athenians would prefer amusement to the preservation of the nation’s safety. “Why be surprised at Philip’s success,” asks Demosthenes, “when all the sums formerly allotted to defray the cost of war are now squandered in useless festivity, a decree, furthermore, menacing with pain of death any one who undertakes to restore them to their former purpose?” He reverts frequently to this incurable propensity of Athenian dilettantism, citing the extreme punctuality with which public feast days were observed as against the tardiness of the administration in all that concerned marine matters, or war. “Tell me why your pompous feasts of Panathenæa or of Dionysia, which cost more than the armament of a fleet, are always celebrated on the day set, while your fleets, as at Methone, Pagasæ, and Potidæa, arrive too late? In the observance of your feasts all has been regulated by law; each of you knows in advance the choregus, the gymnasiarch of his tribe; he knows just what he is to receive and the exact moment when he is to receive it; nothing is uncertain, unexpected, neglected. In time of war, with all the preparations war demands, there is no order, no foresight, nothing but confusion on all sides. At the first alarm trierarchs are named, exchanges are made, subsidies are demanded. Then, to the ships are summoned first the metœci, then the freedmen, then the citizens, then--but pending all this work of preparation, that which our fleet should save has perished. All this, citizens, is doubtless very disagreeable to hear, but if in leaving out of a discourse all that offends we exclude the matter itself, what need to speak save for the mere pleasure of your ears?” And this was virtually true; the people listened to Demosthenes because he spoke well, then went to hear the orators of the opposite side, and in the enjoyment of this fine oratorical display were as royally amused as though they had visited the theatre or the Odeum. PHILIP AND ATHENS [Sidenote: [351-349 B.C.]] Philip endeavoured by apparent inaction to make the Athenians forget the attack on Thermopylæ by which he justified Demosthenes’ fears. But his time was not wasted; he employed it in making partisans, even drawing around himself certain of the pillagers of the Delphic temple. He received their money in trust, thus attaching them firmly to his interests. He had established or was maintaining tyrants in the island of Eubœa, two of whom, feigning treachery to him, called the Athenians to their aid, only to betray them as soon as they had responded to this appeal; it was with difficulty that Phocion could save the Athenian army from destruction. To obtain possession of Amphipolis, Philip had caused the Olynthians to withdraw from the Athenian alliance by ceding to them Potidæa; they, however, regretted this step as soon as they saw their independence menaced. Philip accused them of having given refuge to Macedonian conspirators, and took successively several cities of the Olynthian federation, Apollonia, Stagira, Mecyberna, Torone. The Olynthians asked help of Athens, and Demosthenes, in support of their appeal, delivered three of his most celebrated discourses called the _Olynthiacs_. The first showed the Athenians the danger they were in, since if Philip were to become master of Olynthus he would not fail to fall upon Athens with all his forces. He then indicated the remedy: a better use of public moneys. Unable to attack the Theorica directly, he evaded the difficulty by demanding a reform in the laws governing its use. “Be not surprised, Athenians, if I speak contrary to the opinion of the majority. Establish nomothetes, not to create new laws, but to abolish such as work you harm, and these I will designate clearly. They are the laws regulating the theatre and military service. One set sacrifices to the idlers of the town the funds set apart for war, the other assures impunity to cowards. We stood formerly without a rival, rulers at home, arbiters in foreign lands. Sparta was crushed, Thebes occupied abroad, confronting us was no power that could dispute our empire. What have we done? We have lost our provinces, and uselessly dissipated fifteen hundred talents. War restored to us our allies; in time of peace wise counsellors caused us to lose them, and our enemy has waxed great and powerful. Can any one deny that it is through us that Philip has risen? Undoubtedly you will reply, things on the outside are not favourable to us, but within, what marvels have been accomplished! Name them! Walls restored, roads repaired, fountains rebuilt, and a hundred other trifling matters. Look upon the authors of these splendid works; formerly poor, they are now rich, and in proportion to the rise in their fortunes has been the decline of the state’s. The power to pardon is in their hands, nothing is accomplished save through them; and you, Athenians, suffer everything to be taken from you, allies as well as money. Great in numbers, you are treated like menials, happy when your masters throw you your daily pittance, the price of admission to the theatre. The shame of such a condition! They give you your own, and you render thanks as though for a mercy shown you! I know well that it may cost me dear to place your disgrace so clearly before you; but dearer still will it cost those who have brought that disgrace about.” [Sidenote: [349-347 B.C.]] Only in a democracy could a ruler be found who would accept reproaches so severe. The Athenians knew that Demosthenes was right, but to give up the theatre--that was very hard; to reform the administration of the finances--that would take a long, long time! The most urgent need was attended to first: two armies were sent to succour the Olynthians, who were struggling bravely in their own defence. But these armies were formed of mercenaries, commanded by Chares, an indifferent general who was in the pay of every land. The presence of such troops had for effect to create disturbance among the besieged without rendering them the slightest aid. It was finally decided to send an army of citizens; but it was already too late; two traitors had delivered over the city to the enemy (347). There was stupefaction in Athens and in all Greece when it was learned that Philip had destroyed Olynthus and sold its inhabitants. But pity was of short duration: “Each people,” says Demosthenes, “seemed to look upon as gained the time spent by Philip in destroying another.” Nevertheless the possession of Chalcidice made him master over the Ægean Sea and brought him nearer to the Thracian Chersonesus, ceded to the Athenians by the king, Cersobleptes. His fleet, already greater than that of Athens, threatened Imbros, Scyros, Lemnos, and Eubœa, made a descent on Attica, carried off the Paralian galley, and tore down the trophies at Marathon. The Athenians, tired of carrying on the struggle alone, tried to form against Philip a general alliance, but his liberality had created for him a numerous faction. Even at Athens little was spoken of but the good intentions of the king. Among those who upheld him were many who had been bought over, notably the orator Demades, possibly also Æschines; but some of the dupes were honest, among them the rhetorician Isocrates, who was dazzled by Philip’s success, and many resembling Phocion, who always looked on the dark side, preaching peace because he believed victory impossible, although he was the best general Athens possessed. “Have military greatness,” he advised the Athenians, “or make those who have it your friends.” When Demosthenes saw this man arise to reply to him, “There,” he said, “is the axe of my discourse.” [Sidenote: [352-346 B.C.]] The Sacred War still continued. After the death of Onomarchus his brother Phayllus succeeded him in command. With the aid of the Delphic treasure he got together a large army of mercenaries. The Spartans furnished him one thousand men, the Achæans two thousand, the Athenians five thousand and four hundred horses; thus Sparta and Athens participated indirectly in the pillage, Phayllus paying for the maintenance of the troops sent to him. He invaded Bœotia and took the greater part of the cities of Epicnemidian Locris; but falling ill he died and his place was taken by Phalæcus, son of Onomarchus. The command of this army of bandits came to be a sort of hereditary royalty. Phalæcus being still very young a tutor was given him in the person of Mnaseas, who was shortly after killed. Phalæcus continued the war; but ten thousand talents, the last of the treasure of Delphi, had been expended and the Phocians were clamouring for a reckoning. The Thebans were also at the end of their resources, in spite of the three hundred talents they had obtained from the king of Persia. They called on Philip for assistance, but he not being willing to risk again finding the pass of Thermopylæ, guarded by Athenians, they were obliged to drop out of the contest. The Athenians were in reality glad to discontinue a war which had lasted ten years without bringing them any profit, and desired a reconciliation with the Thebans. It even seemed possible to establish a general peace among the Grecian states, for all were equally tired of the long and fruitless war. Philip indirectly gave the Athenians to understand that he was disposed to treat for peace. It being difficult to divine their motive these advances were looked upon as suspicious. Still at Philocrates’ proposal it was voted to send off ten ambassadors, among whom was Philocrates himself, the rival orators, Demosthenes and Æschines, and the actor Aristodemus. Æschines later reproached Demosthenes with having failed in eloquence before Philip, a fact which had in it nothing extraordinary, since only Alcibiades or Lysander could compete with Philip in guile, and Demosthenes was used to speaking his thoughts openly to a free people. He was at least, contrary to many of his colleagues, proof against fine speeches, banquets, and gifts. A TREATY OF PEACE The ambassadors returned without having obtained anything from Philip save a vague promise to respect the Athenian possessions in Thrace. Three Macedonian envoys followed them; the terms of a treaty of peace were decided upon and another embassy, similar probably to the first, was charged to obtain Philip’s signature. Contrary to the advice of Demosthenes, this embassy travelled by short stages on land, and waited a month for Philip at Pella, giving him time to wage war upon the king of Thrace, Athens’ ally. He at last returned and persuaded the ambassadors to accompany him as far as Pheræ, under the pretext of desiring their mediation between two Thessalian cities. At Pheræ he signed the treaty but refused to inscribe upon it the name of the Phocians. The ambassadors having left he marched rapidly upon Thermopylæ and took possession of the pass which this time he found unguarded. This had been the aim of all his hesitation and delay. The Athenians were outwitted, and their ambassadors either dupes or accomplices; later Demosthenes even accused Æschines of having sold himself to Philip. Phalæcus’ treason is still more apparent. Before peace was concluded he had refused the assistance first of the Athenians, then of the Spartans, who offered to occupy the fortresses. The Phocians were left to their fate. Philip presented himself and the fortresses were delivered up to him on the sole condition that Phalæcus be permitted to retire to Peloponnesus with ten thousand mercenaries. In such fashion this chieftain of a robber band, finding nothing more to steal at Delphi, abandoned without a struggle his country to the enemy. The Phocians were at the mercy of Philip who delivered them over to the hatred of the Thebans.[b] The king occupied the country without striking a blow and then summoned the Amphictyonic council to Delphi, that he might hold a trial of the Phocians and their allies and re-order the affairs of the national sanctuary. PUNISHMENT OF THE PHOCIANS [Sidenote: [346 B.C.]] The sentence was sufficiently severe. The court, attended only by representatives of the peoples which, like the Thebans, Locrians, and Thessalians, had taken part in the Sacred War, followed the dictates of revenge and passion. The Phocians, as being accursed, were expelled from the Amphictyonic league and the two votes which they had hitherto possessed were transferred to Philip and his successors; all the towns, twenty-two in number, were (with the exception of Abæ) to be destroyed and the inhabitants to settle in villages of not more than fifty inhabitants. The fugitives were to be accursed and outlawed wherever they were encountered; those who remained were to pay Apollo a yearly tribute of fifty talents [£10,000 or $50,000] and to be despoiled of their arms and horses until the stolen treasure should be made up. Philip was in future to preside at the Pythian games. The desire for vengeance went so far that the Œtæans even made a suggestion that the whole male population, exclusive of the boys and the old men, should be thrown down from the rock as temple robbers: an inhuman proposal which Philip rejected with anger. In contrast with such unbridled fury the Macedonian king, who had little mercy for his own enemies, appeared as a mild ruler. The execution of the sentence was undertaken with relentless severity; ancient towns like Hyampolis, Panopeus, Daulis, Lilæa disappear henceforth from history; their former inhabitants either wandered homeless in foreign countries or lived out their days in mournful servitude. Many joined the bands of mercenaries which Timoleon the Corinthian conducted to Syracuse in the following year; others passed over with Phalæcus into Crete, where some time afterwards the leader met his death at the siege of Cydonia. All the Phocians who had taken part in the robbing of the temple met with a fearful end, but the lot of those who remained behind was not more enviable. Some years later, when Demosthenes went to Delphi, he beheld a picture of misery: “houses torn down, walls in ruins, the country emptied of men of vigorous age, and a few mourning women and children and old people; such wretchedness as admits of no description in words.” THE ATTITUDE OF THE ATHENIANS The tidings of these events fell on the betrayed Athenians like a thunderbolt out of a clear sky. Relying on the royal grace and mercy, they had delivered the Phocians to their enemies with their hands tied, and how had that trust been rewarded! In Athens consequently, no one joined in the songs of rejoicing which pealed through Delphi when the Amphictyonic council and the Greek envoys who hailed Philip as the protector of the venerable sanctuary were entertained by him at a banquet and sacrifices, and libations and prayers were offered in favour of Apollo; on the contrary there was great excitement among the citizens and a mingled feeling of sorrow, indignation, and fear. Men fancied that they already saw the Macedonian king in Attica. On the suggestion of Callisthenes they decided to bring the women and children into the city from the country, to hide their possessions and make preparations for defence. In defiance of the Amphictyonic ban the fugitive Phocians were assured of welcome and protection. Still when Philip, by an embassy of his own, unfolded his peaceful intentions, but at the same time remained in the neighbourhood with his army in readiness, the position began to be considered more calmly. Nevertheless in the first assembly the people clamoured so that the orators could not make themselves heard, and Æschines called out to Philip’s messengers: “The criers are many, the fighters few.” But when in view of the pressure of circumstances, even Demosthenes raised his voice “for the peace,” and warned the general assembly against inconsiderate action, since it would after all be “foolish and sheer nonsense” to engage in a general war over the “shadow at Delphi,” they submitted to the inevitable and recognised the _fait accompli_. A new embassy, with Æschines at its head, carried to the Macedonian ruler the consent of Athens to the decision of the Amphictyons and to her own entrance into the temple union. Satisfied with this result, the king now arranged for the Pythian games with unusual magnificence, and then returned to Macedonia, leaving a garrison behind him in Phocis. THE MACEDONIAN PARTY During the years which followed while Philip made his hereditary kingdom more compact and extended its borders by successful contest with the Illyrians and Triballians, with the Epirots and Molossians, and with the eastern Thracians, and while the land of Hellas lay ruined and broken, the Athenians made use of the time to revive their trade, strengthen and equip their fleet, and erect new and magnificent buildings for public purposes. But the civil breach became more and more clearly apparent, and prevented the lasting healing and cure of the sick commonwealth from the severe wounds of the past years. Since the fraudulent embassy the Macedonian faction which adhered to Æschines and Philocrates and the patriots who honoured Demosthenes, Lycurgus, and Hyperides as their leaders had occupied a hostile position towards one another. If Æschines had at first placed himself on Philip’s side from a natural inclination because he was dazzled by the royal personality, and he was able to deceive himself concerning his intentions, he was now on personal grounds the warmest supporter of the king, since the latter had called him his friend and enriched him with presents. He who had once made so poor and modest an appearance, now carried his head proudly, walked about in long flowing garments, and showed by his liberal expenditures the alteration in the means at his disposal. The man of practical wisdom had long since recognised the Macedonian’s deceitful game, but he continued to “tread the bridge for him.” Philocrates flaunted his dishonour still more shamelessly. He openly acknowledged that Philip had royally rewarded him, and his prodigality, his dissolute life, and the careless fashion in which he abandoned himself to sensual pleasures and vices were evidence of the great gifts of his wealthy patron. But among all the partisans of Macedon the greatest zeal was shown by Demades, the son of a poor mariner whose rough wit and popular style of eloquence still revealed the ex-sailor. Round these men, to whom must be added the clever but unprincipled Pytheas, swarmed the mass of people who desired peace at any price that they might enjoy life in ease and comfort and such base spirits as set gold and pleasures above honour and their native country. THE PATRIOTIC PARTY [Sidenote: [346-343 B.C.]] This party had its roots and its support in the selfish and pleasure-loving nature of the multitude, and in proportion as it gained in power and adherents the greater was the merit of the men whom no favours and no profit could shake in their fidelity to their country, who looked with suspicious eyes on all Philip’s undertakings and intrigues and recognised the preservation of the liberty they had received from their fathers as the worthy aim of all struggle and effort. Amongst these men, besides Demosthenes, who in these years developed a marvellous activity, sought to thwart Philip’s plans in every direction, and in especial endeavoured to prevent the intriguing interference of Macedonia in the Peloponnesus by pacification and reconciliation, the noble orator Lycurgus was distinguished in the first rank of the patriots by his unassuming simplicity and austerity. Like Socrates and Phocion an enemy to all sensual pleasures and effeminacy, he effected more through his worth and noble disposition than through his somewhat awkward eloquence. Hyperides was a frank and energetic defender of the interests of his country, but also much addicted to the joys of this world, the pleasures of the table, and fair women. His love affair with the charming courtesan Phryne was notorious. Talented, sprightly, and cultivated, he enchained his listeners by the fresh and natural charm of his oratory. Moreover the “curly-headed” Hegesippus and Timarchus belonged to the patriotic party, but they damaged it in the eyes of the people by their ill repute. The position of parties was first revealed in the action against Timarchus who in union with Demosthenes had brought before the court of auditors (logistæ) an accusation against Æschines on the subject of the fraudulent embassy (344). To defeat this accusation Æschines endeavoured to represent that Timarchus was absolutely disqualified from taking such proceedings by his shameless life and notorious character, and he demonstrated this so effectually that his adversary was punished with the loss of civil rights while his own integrity was shown in a most favourable light. If Æschines had taken up arms in moral indignation at his opponent’s vicious conduct, we could only approve his action; but far from appearing as a defender of virtue he treats vice and the prevailing immorality with the greatest leniency and only lifts the veil as much as may serve his party aims. A more successful accusation was that which Hyperides brought in the next year against Philocrates. Conscious of his guilt, the accused went into exile even before judgment was pronounced. Demosthenes might feel encouraged by this result to launch a second documentary accusation against Æschines respecting the treachery and bribery in connection with the fraudulent embassy; but thanks to the skilful defence of the accused and the support of the peace-party, this famous contest also ended with the acquittal of the orator (343). PHILIP’S INTRIGUES AND THE OUTBREAK OF WAR [Sidenote: [344-341 B.C.]] Philip employed the deceitful peace to form alliances for himself by means of bribery and intrigues in all the Hellenic states; and to acquire partisans and supporters and nourish the civil divisions. He took especial pains to make his own profit out of the internal dissensions in the Peloponnesian states and the irreconcilable hatred of Arcadians, Messenians, and Argeians against Sparta; to win a reputation for himself as the protector of the weal and thus gradually to bring the power of chief arbitrator into his own hands. The fact that these intrigues were not completely successful and that the Athenians, forewarned and filled with distrust, rendered the task of the Macedonian negotiators much more difficult, may be considered as an effect of the _Second Philippic_ of Demosthenes. Philip’s ill will was consequently especially directed against the Athenians, in whom he recognised the sole opponents of his thirst for dominion, and he sought to damage them in every way without directly violating the peace. He expelled the pirates from the Attic island of Halonesus and retained the isle as his own property, and when the Athenians complained, he offered it to them as his personal gift; with his newly created naval power he injured Athenian trade and also brought the dominion of the sea more and more into his own hands, and instead of his restoring Eubœa to the Athenians, as had once been hoped, he strengthened his own power by maintaining a secret understanding with his partisans to secure them the supremacy in Eretria and Oreus; in Thessaly he abolished the office of tagus, or chief of the confederation, and set over the four districts four tetrarchs on whom he could rely, a government which was calculated “to break all efforts at union and make the divided forces of the country completely subservient to his aims.” Above all a great stir was created among the Athenians when Philip again turned his arms against the princes Cersobleptes and Teres, with whom they were on friendly terms. In this it was evidently his intention to secure himself a passage into Asia by the subjection of the Thracian coast lands and at the same time to cut the main arteries of Athenian maritime trade, namely the entrance to the Pontus. A royal document with some conciliatory proposals and the offer to lay the disputed points before an impartial tribunal, was designed to divert the attention of the Athenians from their possessions on the Chersonesus, but its suggestions and demands were opposed by Demosthenes or, as the newer criticism has convincingly shown, by Hegesippus, in the _Speech On Halonesus_. And in order to cover their Thracian possessions with the old and new cleruchs, the Athenians sent the general Diopeithes with a squadron and mercenary troops. By two successful campaigns Philip now overcame the Thracians in several encounters after a brave resistance and dethroned their princes; he took one town after another on the Middle Hebrus where his soldiers wintered in earth-holes (in “mud-pits”), and secured his new dominions by planting several colonies (Philippopolis, Berœa, Cabyle, etc.); meantime Diopeithes cruised in the Pontic waters, compelled the cities to purchase a safe voyage for their merchant vessels either by a tribute or, as the commander of the fleet expressed it, of good will, and undertook a military expedition in the Macedonian coasts along the Propontis. When Philip lodged complaints at Athens at this breach of the peace, and threatened reprisals, the Macedonian party was of opinion that they ought to endeavour to conciliate the king by the recall and punishment of the general. Then Demosthenes demonstrated, in the sublime speech _The Affairs of the Chersonesus_, that the peace had actually been broken long ago by Philip himself, and that the Athenians, instead of punishing their bold leader, as the corrupt servants of the king and the cowardly advocates of peace demanded, ought to supply him with new troops and munitions of war before Philip could bring all his plans to maturity and fall upon Athens herself. THE THIRD PHILIPPIC [Sidenote: [341 B.C.]] After this “act in words,” which had the desired effect, Demosthenes in the _Third Philippic_, made clear to the Athenians the necessity of concluding an alliance with the rest of the Hellenic towns for the furnishing of mutual aid so that a check might be given to the insolent and mischievous disposition of the Macedonian, who was perpetrating acts of war and violence under cover of a pretended peace. [Illustration: GREEK MIRROR (In the British Museum)] “In former days, when any Hellenes abused their power for the oppression of others,” so ran this remarkable, wise, and energetic speech, “all Hellas rose to guard the right, and now we permit a ‘good-for-nothing Macedonian,’ a ‘barbarian of the most abandoned character,’ to destroy Greek cities and hold the Pythian games, or cause them to be held by his servants. The Hellenes look on this and do nothing, ‘as a man regards a shower of hail, praying it may not hit him’; his power is allowed to continue growing, no step being taken against it, each reckoning the moment at which another is shipwrecked to his own gain instead of thinking how to save the existence of Hellas and being active in its cause, though none can help knowing that the evil will attain even the most remote. Once the man who allowed himself to be corrupted by the ambitious and malevolent enemies of his country, fell a victim to the general hate, and was visited with the severest punishment as a grievous criminal; now all this is as it were done away and in its stead is introduced that of which Greece lies sick unto death, jealousy of him to whom aught has been given, laughter when he confesses to it, hatred of whoever shall rebuke.” In the _Third Philippic_ Demosthenes rebukes the indolence and degeneracy of the people with more cutting sarcasm; and although all faith had not disappeared from his soul, yet it is not without reason that the piece has been called “a study in shadows, in whose gloomy colours is revealed a saddened spirit and far from joyful anticipations, whilst through the speech on the Chersonesus, which was written under the influence of bright hopes, there breathes a fresher air.” The tempestuous eloquence of the _Third Philippic_ made a powerful impression. Now at the eleventh hour the assembly was roused to decisive action; it placed the conduct of business for a time chiefly in the hands of the patriotic party and made energetic preparations for defence. Whilst Hyperides brought the islands of Chios and Rhodes over to the side of Athens, Demosthenes went himself to the scene of the war, persuaded Byzantium, abandoning her ancient jealousy, to reconcile herself with Athens and conclude an offensive and defensive alliance (341), and acquired Abydos and with it the undisturbed navigation of the Hellespont. Meanwhile the Persian governors, who for a long time past had looked with anxiety and uneasiness on the rise and extension of the Macedonian kingdom, were requested to give assistance, and several states in the Peloponnesus were induced to join in “the Hellenic alliance against Philip.” This was a free confederation under the leadership of Athens, with fixed contributions in money and men. Eubœa was also won over to the alliance after the Macedonian governors in Eretria and Oreus had been, the one killed, the other expelled by Phocion. In recognition of these services a golden wreath was awarded to Demosthenes and set on his head in the theatre at the Dionysia. To make the members of the alliance more ready for sacrifices Athens herself set a magnanimous example of patriotic devotion. It was not only that, on Demosthenes’ suggestion, a change had been effected in the organisation of the trierarchy and thus the less wealthy were secured from oppressive tradition and the rich constrained to make greater efforts in proportion to their resources; the people also agreed that the sums which it had hitherto been customary to apply to festival expenses, entertainments, and dramatic representations should be utilised for military operations. “The people,” says Niebuhr, “whose poverty was dominant in the assembly and refused the gifts by which alone they obtained the luxury of eating meat on certain festival days since all the rest of the year they ate only olives, cabbages, and onions with dry bread and salt fish,--they who made this sacrifice to provide for the honour of their country; this people has my whole heart and my deepest veneration.” PHILIP RETURNS TO THE FRAY [Sidenote: [341-340 B.C.]] The warlike impulse in Athens did not long remain unknown to the Macedonian king. He concealed his anger so long as the Thracian War was still in progress; but when he had destroyed the once powerful Odrysian kingdom and secured the Thracian districts by means of colonies and garrisons, when he had led his army across the Hæmus to the Getæ and had won over the colonies on the western shore of the Pontus by conciliation or force, he proceeded to send the Athenians a defiant letter, full of complaints and accusations, and added to them such insults by marching into their possessions on the Chersonesus and seizing Athenian merchantmen, that the assembly of the people declared the peace to have been violated, threw down the peace column, and took measures to furnish substantial aid to the Byzantines whom Philip was even then threatening with a siege. There was no delusion in Athens as to the importance of the step. When Hegesippus recommended the refusal of Philip’s last proposals, there was a cry “Thou art bringing war upon us,” whereupon he answered: “Not war alone, but early death and mourning garments and public burials and funeral orations if ye will give yourselves in earnest to free the Hellenes and win back the hegemony which your fathers maintained.” Thus ended the hollow Peace of Philocrates which had lasted seven years, and although from the aspect of affairs and the previous course of events there could be no hope of a successful struggle of divided Hellas against the advancing power of the Macedonian kingdom, now in the youthful vigour of its military strength; yet we cannot but feel the deepest respect for the manly impulse, the resolution which defied death, and preferred to fall gloriously and honourably under the feet of hostile armies, rather than be any longer a prey to the deceitful trickery of the king and his purchased satellites, or hover any longer in the undignified and ruinous state between war and peace. It was not a question of preserving “a piece of finery which had grown old-fashioned,” but of saving liberty and the popular government handed down from their forefathers, of passing on unimpaired to their successors the institutions and political forms for which former generations had staked their property and their blood, and of avoiding the break with the great historical past as long as possible. SIEGE OF PERINTHUS AND BYZANTIUM [Sidenote: [340-339 B.C.]] And that there was still strength and courage in the Greek people, Philip to his great chagrin soon received sensible evidence before Perinthus, a maritime city, built in terrace fashion on the high ridge of a tongue of land on the Propontis, with rows of houses crowded thickly together and which he failed to take after a long siege by land and sea. Supported by the Byzantines and the Persian governor, the brave citizens repelled storm and attack with spirit. And now encouraged by the example of the Perinthians, and with the co-operation of the Athenians who sent first Chares, then Phocion, with ships and men to the aid of their hard-pressed ally, the Byzantines offered a manful resistance; so that here too Philip had to raise the siege and it was only by a stratagem that he succeeded in bringing off his fleet from the Black Sea through the Bosporus and the Hellespont. The feeble Byzantines would hardly have held out so long against the siege which Philip conducted in similar fashion with battering-rams, machines for flinging projectiles and saps, but Chares, the Athenian, and his squadron drove the Macedonian fleet to the Pontus in a victorious combat, and from his advantageous position at Chrysopolis protected the entrance to the sea, while the valiant Phocion did his utmost to aid in the defensive measures of the Byzantine commander Leon, whom he had previously known in Plato’s school. So here too Philip failed to attain his object, in spite of the skill of his engineers and the bravery of his troops, who once even won an entrance into the town on a rainy, moonless night, but were beaten back in a hot fight by the citizens, who ran up hastily, considerably aided by the appearance of an aurora borealis. DECLINE OF PHILIP’S PRESTIGE; THE SCYTHIAN EXPEDITION The golden wreath and votes of gratitude with which the rescued Perinthians and Byzantines and the Attic cleruchs on the Chersonesus expressed their thanks to the Athenian state, were especially due to the orator Demosthenes, who by his disinterested and patriotic activity had been mainly instrumental in bringing about this revival of energy. On the news of Philip’s failures at Perinthus and Byzantium, the national party reared its head more proudly. Relying on Athens--whose ships again ruled the Pontus as far as Thessaly, barred the coasts and impeded Macedonian trade and maritime commerce--the patriotic party, in which the spirit of independence, freedom, and national honour was not yet extinct, again bestirred itself in all the Hellenic cities. Even at Thebes evidences appeared which showed how great was the indignation and suspicion against Philip. The partisans of Macedon and the supporters of the peace were thrust into the background; the Hellenic alliance received new members and adherents. Philip’s consideration was manifestly on the wane, the more as during this time he was with his army in the distant regions of the Danube. For in order to compensate his troops for their fruitless toil by means of a raiding expedition and restore his military reputation by a brilliant feat, Philip led his army from Byzantium against the Scythians on the Lower Danube. Here he did indeed win the victory in a great pitched battle, took many prisoners, and made spoil of a number of valuable horses and live stock; but on the return march through the country of the Triballi the greater part of this booty was lost; it was only with great difficulty, and when he himself had been sorely wounded, that he led back the army through the pass of Hæmus to his own country. THE CRUSADE AGAINST AMPHISSA [Sidenote: [339-338 B.C.]] Nothing but a brilliant feat of arms could restore Philip his declining prestige in Hellas, and to this his partisans paved the way. They contrived to kindle fresh dissensions amongst the Hellenes and managed so skilfully that Philip was afforded an excuse for the invasion of Greece and could hide his personal objects under an honourable pretext. He was able to appear a second time as the protection of the Pythian sanctuary and to overthrow his adversaries. The Locrians of Amphissa had utilised considerable portions of that accursed “Crissæan plain” as corn and meadow land, had set up brick kilns and farmyards and in the walled haven had erected a toll house where pilgrims journeying to the place of the holy oracle had to pay an impost for shelter and guidance. The Delphians had left the Amphissians in peace to do as they would, especially as the latter paid the usual tithe for the ground they occupied, as well as a ground rent. After the Phocian War, in which the Locrians exhibited so much zeal for the honour of the temple, they would not be likely to become more neglectful in the fulfilment of their tasks; and probably also, as a suitable reward for their services, they acquired new tracts of land which they cultivated. But the sanctuary itself probably now stood in a different position as regards the Hellenic people, since a foreign king had assumed the office of its protector and the Pythia was credited with “philippising.” Æschines, as assistant Athenian deputy (Pylagoras), was at Delphi for the spring meeting of the Amphictyonic council. He had a grudge against the Amphissians because they sided with the patriotic party and he now made use of their position to bring an accusation against them. Pointing, from the height on which the sitting was held, at the harbour and cultivated ground, he made a solemn address to the assembly, and threw it into such a state of excitement by reciting the ancient statutes and oaths, that the envoys, seized with an extravagant religious zeal, marched next morning into the Crissæan plain, accompanied by the citizens and slaves of Delphi, destroyed the harbour, set fire to the houses, and demolished the works. Furious at a proceeding so sudden and carried into effect without any inquiry, the Amphissians fell on the “crusaders” with arms in their hands, and wounded some while others saved themselves by a hasty flight to Delphi. Here a meeting of the council and the citizens, under the presidency of Cottyphus of Pharsalus, passed a resolution that at the next regular meeting to be held at Pylæ the punishment of the Amphissians for their crime against the god and the sacred plain should be determined on, and for this purpose the deputies were to obtain special powers from their states. When Æschines made his report to the Athenian people, Demosthenes cried out to him: “Thou bringest war into Attica--an Amphictyonic war”; and his warning words were of force enough to restrain the Athenians from sending delegates to the appointed tribunal. The Thebans also held aloof, although Timolaus, “the greatest slave of his pleasures” and others of Philip’s partisans zealously bestirred themselves. However, the assembly was held, a heavy money-fine was imposed on the Amphissians and when they refused payment it was resolved to make war against them. But the small army which Cottyphus himself led against them effected nothing; there was so little zeal that several tribes did not send their contingents, and the others went to work very sluggishly. Consequently at the next autumn meeting the leaders of the Macedonian party were able to make use of the to elect the Macedonian king as commander in the Sacred War. [Illustration: GREEK WAR CHARIOT] Philip had returned from the Scythian expedition only a short time before, but he did not long delay. With an army which gradually increased to thirty thousand foot and twenty thousand horsemen, he broke into Phocis through the pass of Thermopylæ, won possession by a stratagem of the defiles at Parnassus which had been occupied by the generals Chares and Proxenus, and, after some brief contests with the mercenaries, took Amphissa. The city was razed to the ground, the inhabitants expelled, and the consecrated land restored to the Delphian sanctuary. When Philip had further conquered Naupactus and handed it over to the Ætolians, he went back across the mountains, occupied the Phocian frontier town of Elatea in the fertile plain of the Cephisus valley which, commanding the entrance to Locris and Bœotia, offered an excellent base for further operations. When Elatea had been hastily fortified by a stockade and provided with a strong garrison, it became a military camp which threatened immediate danger to Bœotia and Attica. Demosthenes has painted in lively colours the impression made on the council and citizens of Athens by the news of the occupation of Elatea: “It was evening when a messenger came to the prytanes with the announcement that Elatea was taken. They immediately rose from table; some drove the market people from their booths and lighted the trellis work in order by this fiery signal to summon the people from the country to the town; others sent to the generals and had the alarm sounded: and the city was in the greatest excitement. At daybreak the next morning the prytanes summoned the great council to the council house; the citizens gathered in the popular assembly, and before the council had consulted and come to a decision the whole community was assembled on the Pnyx. And when the council appeared and the prytanes repeated the news received and had introduced the messenger and the latter had communicated his report, the herald asked: ‘Who will speak?’ but no one came forward; and as often as the herald repeated the question none rose although all the strategi were present and all the public orators.” Then Demosthenes arose and first opposed the idea that Philip was acting in accordance with an understanding with Thebes: “Whoever indulges in an exaggerated anxiety as though Philip were sure of the Thebans, mistakes the position, for I am convinced that if it were so we should not hear that he is at Elatea but on our frontiers. But it is quite true that in taking this step he had the design of winning Thebes for himself. He has already brought many over to his side by money and craft, but those who have withstood him from the beginning he will not now be able to win. In what intention has he now occupied Elatea? In order that by displaying his power in the neighbourhood and by the threatening aspect of his weapons he may encourage his friends to a bold stroke and intimidate his enemies, so that they will yield from fear or be coerced by the rest. If then we now remember our former quarrels with the Thebans and then distrust them, we shall first of all accomplish Philip’s dearest wish and then drive those who have hitherto been his adversaries over to his side, and there will be a general attack on Attica in conjunction with him.” To avoid this Demosthenes made the following suggestions to his fellow-citizens: first to banish this present terror, and next to fear for the Thebans, since they were much nearer the object of dread and it was to them that the danger was most threatening; then they should march to Eleusis with their whole forces and with the cavalry, to show that they were themselves under arms, and by this means the party of liberty in Thebes would be encouraged to make a stand for the right, as those sold to Philip had a supporter at Elatea; finally they might choose ten envoys who in conjunction with the strategi should make the necessary arrangements for the march, and then going to Thebes declare there that the Athenians were ready with assistance if the Thebans wished and demanded it. “If they accept the offer and join us we shall have attained our end without compromising the dignity of our state; if we are not successful the Thebans will have only themselves to blame if they meet with misfortune, but we shall have done nothing shameful or base.” ALLIANCE BETWEEN ATHENS AND THEBES The words of the patriot were a ray of light in the gloom of confusion and uncertainty. His suggestions were adopted without a dissentient word and himself placed at the head of an embassy which was to negotiate the alliance with the Thebans and arrange with the generals as to the measures needed for the war. Demosthenes and his companions set out immediately whilst the army took up its post at Eleusis. When the envoys reached Thebes they immediately encountered those of Philip and his Thessalian allies who, aided by the Macedonian party, were zealously endeavouring by the most seductive promises to persuade the Thebans to conclude a military alliance with the king, or at least to remain neutral and allow his troops a passage to Attica. The witty, eloquent Python of Byzantium showed much skill in enumerating all the acts of benevolence which the king had performed for their city, and in exhibiting the advantages to Thebes which a united attack on Attica would bring in its train, and reminding the people of all the injuries and acts of hostility which Athens had ever inflicted upon them and for which they might now take vengeance. Nor did he forget the participation in the spoils of victory in case of their joining their arms with Macedon and the sufferings and horrors of the war if they stood by Athens. The Theban assembly wavered. But when Demosthenes implored the meeting to forget for the moment all former dissensions and injuries, and only think of saving their native Hellas and preserving liberty and honour; when he made it clear to them that the common danger could only be averted by their firm cohesion--then all doubts vanished before his fiery words. In the enthusiasm with which his speech filled them, they forgot self interest, fear, and favour; they determined to renounce the king and to make an offensive and defensive alliance with Athens. It was the last flicker of the fire which had shone so bravely in the days of the Persian War. At this time Demosthenes’ opinion was decisive, not less in the newly erected confederate council at Thebes than before the popular assembly at Athens. The provisions of the treaty are not positively known. Thebes was recognised as the head of Bœotia, each side secured in its possessions, and the restoration of the Phocian commonwealths determined on. Two-thirds of the cost of the war was to be borne by Athens, one-third by Thebes On the other hand the assertion of Æschines that Thebes was to have the sole command by land, and by sea was to share it with Athens, lies under justifiable suspicion. The newly awakened military spirit and the union of the arms of the two most powerful Hellenic states, by no means promised well for Philip’s enterprises. He therefore again had recourse to negotiation. His friends and ambassadors protested that he had no hostile intentions against Greece, he had only come to fulfil the decrees of the Amphictyons. Even in Thebes and Athens there were notable men whose voices counselled peace, appealing to the evil signs and presages which were forthcoming in great numbers. “The Pythia announced heavy misfortunes and old Sibylline utterances were in circulation which pointed to unfortunate battles and bloody fields of corpses, a prey to ravens and vultures: the vanquished weeps, ruin strikes the victor.” It required all the energy and decision of Demosthenes to overcome these impressions. He went himself to Thebes and confirmed the Bœotarchs and the assembly of the people in their resolution; in Athens, where even Phocion spoke against the war, he is said to have threatened, to “drag into a cell by the hair of his head the first man who suggested peace with Philip.” Demosthenes carried his point. His popularity ran so high that the Athenians honoured him with the award of a golden crown twice in one year. In the first days of spring the citizen army of Athens set out for Thebes and encamped before the city; but the Thebans brought them in and entertained them in their houses until the two allied armies marched together into the Phocian country. The two first encounters with the Macedonian troop at the Cephisus and in the “wintry” mountain country were favourable to the Hellenes. In Thebes and Athens thanks were rendered to the gods with sacrifices and solemn processions for the successful “river and winter battles.” The Athenian army had especially distinguished itself by its discipline, equipment, and military ardour. Such men in Phocis as were capable of bearing arms joined the allies who now occupied the defiles leading into Bœotia. In order to drive them from this advantageous position and open a passage for himself, Philip again had recourse to a stratagem. He sent a division of his army into Bœotia by another mountain road and caused the villages and hamlets to be set on fire. This determined the Bœotian leaders to leave their position and protect their own country. Philip had been waiting for this; he quickly recalled that division and then marched through the passes with his whole army on Chæronea in the plain of the Cephisus, where the wide level offered a favourable battle-field. THE ARMIES IN THE PLAIN OF CHÆRONEA [Sidenote: [338 B.C.]] Here he was met by the army of the Hellenic allies. To the Thebans and Athenians who formed the kernel, the Eubœans, Megarians, Corinthians, Achæans, and Corcyræans had added their manhood, so that on the whole the Greeks had perhaps the advantage in numbers over their opponent. On the other hand they were far behind him in everything else. Their hastily summoned troops, composed of various nationalities, were no match either in training and discipline or in the use of weapons and military experience for the well-equipped and seasoned hosts of the Macedonians--who had lately been through the Thracian War, crossed the Hæmus and fought with the Scythians and Triballi in the steppes of the Danube--or for the Thessalian horsemen, who were renowned and feared throughout antiquity. And this efficient, practised force was guided by a single will of acknowledged mastery, and led into the battle by experienced generals like Antipater and others; whilst on the side of the Greeks there was no commander of name and consideration. The Athenian Stratocles and the Theban Theagenes were brave and conscientious, but in no way distinguished leaders; and the two other Athenian generals, Lysicles and Chares, the profligate and little regarded captain of mercenaries, could not in any way be compared with Philip. Under these circumstances it was to be expected that the battle of Chæronea would end in a defeat of the Greeks. But they fought and fell with honour. It was the last test of the strength of the Hellenic people; only a few hired soldiers were to be found in the ranks, the great majority consisting of citizen levies. The heavy infantry of the Thebans, amongst whom the “Sacred Band” of the Three Hundred occupied the place of honour, maintained the reputation for bravery and discipline which they had borne since the days of Epaminondas; and the Athenians, in whose ranks Demosthenes served with the hoplites as a common soldier, were no unworthy members of the league. They formed the left wing whilst the Thebans fought on the right; the rest of the Hellenes and the mercenaries filled the centre. Philip, recognising the importance of the battle, made his dispositions with great wariness. He himself took command of the wing opposite to the Athenians; the other he entrusted to his son Alexander, a youth of eighteen, who, surrounded by the most experienced warriors, was consumed with eagerness to begin his heroic career of fame and victory in this decisive battle. The oak-tree on the left bank of the Cephisus where his tent stood was still pointed out in Plutarch’s time.[n] It is among the accusations urged by Æschines against Demosthenes, that in levying mercenary troops he wrongfully took the public money to pay men who never appeared; and further, that he placed at the disposal of the Amphissians a large body of ten thousand mercenary troops, thus withdrawing them from the main Athenian and Bœotian army; whereby Philip was enabled to cut to pieces the mercenaries separately, while the entire force, if kept together, could never have been defeated. Æschines affirms that he himself strenuously opposed this separation of forces, the consequences of which were disastrous and discouraging to the whole cause. [Illustration: GREEK CATAPULT] It was in August, 338 B.C., that the allied Grecian army met Philip near Chæronea, the last Bœotian town on the frontiers of Phocis. He seems to have been now strong enough to attempt to force his way into Bœotia, and is said to have drawn down the allies from a strong position into the plain by laying waste the neighbouring fields. His numbers are stated by Diodorus at thirty thousand foot and two thousand horse; he doubtless had with him Thessalians and other allies from northern Greece, but not a single ally from Peloponnesus. Of the united Greeks opposed to him, the total is not known. We can therefore make no comparison as to numbers, though the superiority of the Macedonian army in organisation is incontestable. The largest Grecian contingents were those of Athens, under Lysicles and Chares, and of Thebes, commanded by Theagenes; there were, besides, Phocians, Achæans, and Corinthians--probably also Eubœans and Megarians. The Lacedæmonians, Messenians, Arcadians, Eleans, and Argives, took no part in the war. All of them had doubtless been solicited on both sides, by Demosthenes as well as by the partisans of Philip. But their jealousy and the fear of Sparta led the last four states rather to look towards Philip as a protector against her, though on this occasion they took no positive part. The command of the army was shared between the Athenians and the Thebans, and its movements were determined by the joint decision of their statesmen and generals. As to statesmen, the presence of Demosthenes at least insured to them sound and patriotic counsel powerfully set forth; as to generals, not one of the three was fit for an emergency so grave and terrible. It was the misfortune of Greece that, at this crisis of her liberty, when everything was staked on the issue of the campaign, neither an Epaminondas nor an Iphicrates was at hand. Phocion was absent as commander of the Athenian fleet in the Hellespont or the Ægean. Portents were said to have occurred, oracles and prophecies were in circulation, calculated to discourage the Greeks; but Demosthenes, animated by the sight of so numerous an army, hearty and combined in defence of Grecian independence, treated all such stories with the same indifference as Epaminondas had shown before the battle of Leuctra, and accused the Delphian priestess of philippising. Nay, so confident was he in the result (according to the statement of Æschines), that when Philip, himself apprehensive, was prepared to offer terms of peace, and the Bœotarchs inclined to accept them, Demosthenes alone stood out, denouncing as a traitor anyone who should broach the proposition of peace, and boasting that if the Thebans were afraid, his countrymen the Athenians desired nothing better than a free passage through Bœotia to attack Philip single-handed. THE BATTLE OF CHÆRONEA In the field of battle near Chæronea, Philip himself commanded a chosen body of troops on the wing opposed to the Athenians; while his youthful son Alexander, aided by experienced officers, commanded against the Thebans on the other wing. Respecting the course of the battle, we are scarcely permitted to know anything.[16] It is said to have been so obstinately contested that for some time the result was doubtful. The Sacred Band of Thebes, who charged in one portion of the Theban phalanx, exhausted all their strength and energy in an unavailing attempt to bear down the stronger phalanx and multiplied pikes opposed to them. The youthful Alexander here first displayed his great military energy and ability. After a long and murderous struggle, the Theban Sacred Band were all overpowered and perished in their ranks, while the Theban phalanx was broken and pushed back. Philip on his side was still engaged in undecided conflict with the Athenians, whose first onset is said to have been so impetuous, as to put to flight some of the troops in his army; insomuch that the Athenian general exclaimed in triumph, “Let us pursue them even to Macedonia.” It is farther said that Philip on his side simulated a retreat, for the purpose of inducing them to pursue and to break their order. We read another statement--more likely to be true; that the Athenian hoplites, though full of energy at the first shock, could not endure fatigue and prolonged struggle like the trained veterans in the opposite ranks. Having steadily repelled them for a considerable time, Philip became emulous on witnessing the success of his son, and redoubled his efforts: so as to break and disperse them. The whole Grecian army was thus put to flight with severe loss. The Macedonian phalanx, as armed and organised by Philip, was sixteen deep; less deep than that of the Thebans either at Delium or at Leuctra. It had veteran soldiers of great strength and complete training in its front ranks; yet probably soldiers hardly superior to the Sacred Band, who formed the Theban front rank. But its great superiority was in the length of the Macedonian pike or sarissa, in the number of these weapons which projected in front of the foremost soldiers, and the long practice of the men to manage this impenetrable array of pikes in an efficient manner. The value of Philip’s improved phalanx was attested by his victory at Chæronea. But the victory was not gained by the phalanx alone. The military organisation of Philip comprised an aggregate of many sorts of troops besides the phalanx--the bodyguards, horse as well as foot; the hypaspistæ, or light hoplites; the light cavalry, bowmen, slingers, etc. One thousand Athenian citizens perished in this disastrous field; two thousand more fell into the hands of Philip as prisoners. The Theban loss is said also to have been terrible, as well as the Achæan. But we do not know the numbers; nor have we any statement of the Macedonian loss. Demosthenes, himself present in the ranks of the hoplites, shared in the flight of his defeated countrymen. He is accused by his political enemies of having behaved with extreme and disgraceful cowardice; but we see plainly from the continued confidence and respect shown to him by the general body of his countrymen, that they cannot have credited the imputation. The two Athenian generals, Chares and Lysicles, both escaped from the field. The latter was afterwards publicly accused at Athens by the orator Lycurgus. Lysicles was condemned to death by the dicastery. What there was to distinguish his conduct from that of his colleague Chares--who certainly was not condemned, and is not even stated to have been accused--we do not know. Unspeakable was the agony at Athens on the report of this disaster, with a multitude of citizens as yet unknown left on the field or prisoners, and a victorious enemy within three or four days’ march of the city. The whole population, even old men, women, and children, were spread about the streets in all the violence of grief and terror, interchanging effusions of distress and sympathy, and questioning every fugitive as he arrived about the safety of their relatives in the battle. The flower of the citizens of military age had been engaged; and before the extent of loss had been ascertained, it was feared that none except the elders would be left to defend the city. At length the definite loss became known: severe indeed and terrible--yet not a total shipwreck, like that of the army of Nicias in Sicily. As on that trying occasion, so now: amidst all the distress and alarm, it was not in the Athenian character to despair. The mass of citizens hastened unbidden to form a public assembly, wherein the most energetic resolutions were taken for defence. Decrees were passed enjoining every one to carry his family and property out of the open country of Attica into the various strongholds; directing the body of the senators, who by general rule were exempt from military service, to march down in arms to Piræus, and put that harbour in condition to stand a siege; placing every man without exception at the disposal of the generals, as a soldier for defence, and imposing the penalties of treason on every one who fled; enfranchising all slaves fit for bearing arms, granting the citizenship to metics under the same circumstances, and restoring to the full privilege of citizens those who had been disfranchised by judicial sentence. This last-mentioned decree was proposed by Hyperides; but several others were moved by Demosthenes, who, notwithstanding the late misfortune of the Athenian arms, was listened to with undiminished respect and confidence. Not only he, but also most of the conspicuous citizens and habitual speakers in the assembly, came forward with large private contributions to meet the pressing wants of the moment. Every man in the city lent a hand to make good the defective points in the fortification. Materials were obtained by felling the trees near the city, and even by taking stones from the adjacent sepulchres--as had been done after the Persian War when the walls were built under the contrivance of Themistocles. The temples were stripped of the arms suspended within them, for the purpose of equipping unarmed citizens. By such earnest and unanimous efforts, the defences of the city and of Piræus were soon materially improved. At sea Athens had nothing to fear. Her powerful naval force was untouched, and her superiority to Philip on that element incontestable. Envoys were sent to Trœzen, Epidaurus, Andros, Ceos, and other places, to solicit aid and collect money; in one or other of which embassies Demosthenes served, after he had provided for the immediate exigences of defence. PHILIP TAKES THEBES Such were the precautions taken at Athens after this fatal day. But Athens lay at a distance of three or four days’ march from the field of Chæronea; while Thebes, being much nearer, bore the first attack of Philip. Of the behaviour of that prince after his victory, we have contradictory statements. According to one account, he indulged in the most insulting and licentious exultation on the field of battle, jesting especially on the oratory and motions of Demosthenes; a temper from which he was brought round by the courageous reproof of Demades, then his prisoner as one of the Athenian hoplites.[17] At first he even refused to grant permission to inter the slain, when the herald came from Lebadea to make the customary demand. According to another account, the demeanour of Philip towards the defeated Athenians was gentle and forbearing. However the fact may have stood as to his first manifestations, it is certain that his positive measures were harsh towards Thebes and lenient towards Athens. He sold the Theban captives into slavery; he is said also to have exacted a price for the liberty granted to bury the Theban slain--which liberty, according to Grecian custom, was never refused, and certainly never sold, by the victor. Whether Thebes made any further resistance, or stood a siege, we do not know. But presently the city fell into Philip’s power, who put to death several of the leading citizens, banished others, and confiscated the property of both. A council of Three Hundred--composed of philippising Thebans, for the most part just recalled from exile--was invested with the government of the city, and with powers of life and death over every one. The state of Thebes became much the same as it had been when the Spartan Phœbidas, in concert with the Theban party headed by Leontiades, surprised the Cadmea. A Macedonian garrison was now placed in the Cadmea, as a Spartan garrison had been placed then. Supported by this garrison, the philippising Thebans were uncontrolled masters of the city; with full power, and no reluctance, to gratify their political antipathies. At the same time, Philip restored the minor Bœotian towns--Orchomenos, and Platæa, probably also Thespiæ and Coronea--to the condition of free communities instead of subjection to Thebes. At Athens also, the philippising orators raised their voices loudly and confidently, denouncing Demosthenes and his policy. New speakers, who would hardly have come forward before, were now put up against him. The accusations however altogether failed; the people continued to trust him, omitting no measure of defence which he suggested. Æschines, who had before disclaimed all connection with Philip, now altered his tone, and made boast of the ties of friendship and hospitality subsisting between that prince and himself. He tendered his services to go as envoy to the Macedonian camp; whither he appears to have been sent, doubtless with others, perhaps with Xenocrates and Phocion. Among them was Demades also, having been just released from his captivity. Either by the persuasions of Demades, or by a change in his own dispositions, Philip had now become inclined to treat with Athens on favourable terms. The bodies of the slain Athenians were burned by the victors, and their ashes collected to be carried to Athens; though the formal application of the herald, to the same effect, had been previously refused. Æschines (according to the assertion of Demosthenes) took part as a sympathising guest in the banquet and festivities whereby Philip celebrated his triumph over Grecian liberty. At length Demades with the other envoys returned to Athens, reporting the consent of Philip to conclude peace, to give back the numerous prisoners in his hands, and also to transfer Oropus from the Thebans to Athens. PEACE OF DEMADES Demades proposed the conclusion of peace to the Athenian assembly, by whom it was readily decreed. To escape invasion and siege by the Macedonian army was doubtless an unspeakable relief; while the recovery of the two thousand prisoners without ransom was an acquisition of great importance, not merely to the city collectively but to the sympathies of numerous relatives. Lastly, to regain Oropus--a possession which they had once enjoyed, and for which they had long wrangled with the Thebans--was a further cause of satisfaction. Such conditions were doubtless acceptable at Athens. But there was a submission to be made on the other side, which to the contemporaries of Pericles would have seemed intolerable, even as the price of averted invasion or recovered captives. The Athenians were required to acknowledge the exaltation of Philip to the headship of the Grecian world, and to promote the like acknowledgment by all other Greeks, in a congress to be speedily convened. They were to renounce all pretensions to headship, not only for themselves, but for every other Grecian state; to recognise not Sparta nor Thebes, but the king of Macedon, as Panhellenic chief; to acquiesce in the transition of Greece from the position of a free, self-determining, political aggregate, into a provincial dependency of the kings of Pella and Ægæ. It is not easy to conceive a more terrible shock to that traditional sentiment of pride and patriotism, inherited from forefathers who, after repelling and worsting the Persians, had first organised the maritime Greeks into a confederacy running parallel with and supplementary to the non-maritime Greeks allied with Sparta; thus keeping out foreign dominion and casting the Grecian world into a system founded on native sympathies and free government. Such traditional sentiment, though it no longer governed the character of the Athenians nor impressed upon them motives of action, had still a strong hold upon their imagination and memory, where it had been constantly kept alive by the eloquence of Demosthenes and others. The Peace of Demades, recognising Philip as chief of Greece, was a renunciation of all this proud historical past, and the acceptance of a new and degraded position, for Athens as well as for Greece generally. If Philip had not purchased the recognition of Athens, he might have failed in trying to extort it by force. For though, being master of the field, he could lay waste Attica with impunity, and even establish a permanent fortress in it like Decelea--yet the fleet of Athens was as strong as ever, and her preponderance at sea irresistible. Under these circumstances, Athens and Piræus might have been defended against him, as Byzantium and Perinthus had been, two years before; the Athenian fleet might have obstructed his operations in many ways; and the siege of Athens might have called forth a burst of Hellenic sympathy, such as to embarrass his further progress. We may see therefore that, with such difficulties before him if he pushed the Athenians to despair, Philip acted wisely in employing his victory and his prisoners to procure her recognition of his headship. His political game was well played, now as always; but to the praise of generosity bestowed by Polybius he has little claim. Besides the recognition of Philip as chief of Greece, the Athenians, on the motion of Demades, passed various honorary and complimentary votes in his favour; of what precise nature we do not know. Immediate relief from danger, with the restoration of two thousand captive citizens, was sufficient to render the peace generally popular at the first moment; moreover, the Athenians, as if conscious of failing resolution and strength, were now entering upon that career of flattery to powerful kings which we shall hereafter find them pushing to disgraceful extravagance. It was probably during the prevalence of this sentiment, which did not long continue, that the youthful Alexander of Macedon, accompanied by Antipater, paid a visit to Athens. Meanwhile the respect enjoyed by Demosthenes among his countrymen was noway lessened. Though his political opponents thought the season favourable for bringing many impeachments against him, none of them proved successful. [Illustration: GREEK MARBLE CHAIR] PHILIP IN PELOPONNESUS Having thus subjugated and garrisoned Thebes, having reconstituted the anti-Theban cities in Bœotia, having constrained Athens to submission and dependent alliance, and having established a garrison in Ambracia, at the same time mastering Acarnania, and banishing the leading Acarnanians who were opposed to him, Philip next proceeded to carry his arms into Peloponnesus. He found little positive resistance anywhere, except in the territory of Sparta. The Corinthians, Argives, Messenians, Eleans, and many Arcadians, all submitted to his dominion; some even courted his alliance, from fear and antipathy against Sparta. Philip invaded Laconia with an army too powerful for the Spartans to resist in the field. He laid waste the country, and took some detached posts; but he did not take, nor do we know that he even attacked, Sparta itself. The Spartans could not resist; yet would they neither submit nor ask for peace. It appears that Philip cut down their territory and narrowed their boundaries on all the three sides; towards Argos, Messene, and Megalopolis. We have no precise account of the details of his proceedings; but it is clear that he did just what seemed to him good, and that the governments of all the Peloponnesian cities came into the hands of his partisans. Sparta was the only city which stood out against him; maintaining her ancient freedom and dignity, under circumstances of feebleness and humiliation, with more unshaken resolution than Athens. POLITICAL SCHEMES; FAMILY BROILS [Sidenote: [338-336 B.C.]] Philip next proceeded to convene a congress of Grecian cities at Corinth. He here announced himself as resolved on an expedition against the Persian king, for the purpose both of liberating the Asiatic Greeks and avenging the invasion of Greece by Xerxes. The general vote of the congress nominated him leader of the united Greeks for this purpose, and decreed a Grecian force to join him, to be formed of contingents furnished by the various cities. The total of the force promised is stated only by Justin, who gives it at two hundred thousand foot, and fifteen thousand horse; an army which Greece certainly could not have furnished, and which we can hardly believe to have been even promised. The Spartans stood aloof from the congress, continuing to refuse all recognition of the headship of Philip. The Athenians attended and concurred in the vote; which was in fact the next step to carry out the peace made by Demades. They were required to furnish a well-equipped fleet to serve under Philip; and they were at the same time divested of their dignity of chiefs of a maritime confederacy, the islands being enrolled as maritime dependencies of Philip, instead of continuing to send deputies to a synod meeting at Athens. For several years afterwards, the naval force in the dockyards of Athens still continued large and powerful; but her maritime ascendency henceforward disappears. This scheme--the invasion of Persia--had now ceased to be an object of genuine aspiration throughout the Grecian world. The Great King, no longer inspiring terror to Greece collectively, might now be regarded as likely to lend protection against Macedonian oppression. To emancipate the Asiatic Greeks from Persian dominion would be in itself an enterprise grateful to Grecian feeling, though all such wishes must have been gradually dying out since the Peace of Antalcidas. But emancipation, accomplished by Philip, would be only a transfer of the Asiatic Greeks from Persian dominion to his. The synod of Corinth served no purpose except to harness the Greeks to his car, for a distant enterprise lucrative to his soldiers and suited to his insatiable ambition. It was in 337 B.C. that this Persian expedition was concerted and resolved. During that year preparations were made of sufficient magnitude to exhaust the finances of Philip; who was at the same time engaged in military operations, and fought a severe battle against the Illyrian king Pleurias. In the spring of 336 B.C., a portion of the Macedonian army under Parmenion and Attalus, was sent across to Asia to commence military operations; Philip himself intending speedily to follow. Such however was not the fate reserved for him. Not long before, he had taken the resolution of repudiating, on the allegation of infidelity, his wife Olympias; who is said to have become repugnant to him, from the furious and savage impulses of her character. He had successively married several wives, the last of whom was Cleopatra, niece of the Macedonian Attalus. It was at her instance that he is said to have repudiated Olympias; who retired to her brother, Alexander of Epirus. This step provoked violent dissensions among the partisans of the two queens, and even between Philip and his son Alexander, who expressed a strong resentment at the repudiation of his mother. Amidst the intoxication of the marriage banquet, Attalus proposed a toast and prayer, that there might speedily appear a legitimate son, from Philip and Cleopatra, to succeed to the Macedonian throne. Upon which Alexander exclaimed in wrath, “Do you then proclaim me as a bastard?”--at the same time hurling a goblet at him. Incensed at this proceeding, Philip started up, drew his sword, and made furiously at his son; but fell to the ground from passion and intoxication. This accident alone preserved the life of Alexander, who retorted, “Here is a man, preparing to cross from Europe into Asia, who yet cannot step surely from one couch to another.” After this violent quarrel the father and son separated. Alexander conducted his mother into Epirus, and then went himself to the Illyrian king. Some months afterwards, at the instance of the Corinthian Demaratus, Philip sent for him back, and became reconciled to him; but another cause of displeasure soon arose, because Alexander had opened a negotiation for marriage with the daughter of the satrap of Caria. Rejecting such an alliance as unworthy, Philip sharply reproved his son, and banished from Macedonia several courtiers whom he suspected as intimate with Alexander; while the friends of Attalus stood high in favour. THE DEATH OF PHILIP [Sidenote: [336 B.C.]] Such were the animosities distracting the court and family of Philip. A son had just been born to him from his new wife Cleopatra. His expedition against Persia, resolved and prepared during the preceding year, had been actually commenced. But Philip foresaw that during his absence danger might arise from the furious Olympias, bitterly exasperated by the recent events, and instigating her brother Alexander, king of Epirus, with whom she was now residing. He now deemed it essential to conciliate him still further, by a special tie of alliance; giving to him in marriage Cleopatra, his daughter by Olympias. For this marriage, celebrated at Ægæ in Macedonia in August 336 B.C., Philip provided festivals of the utmost cost and splendour, commemorating at the same time the recent birth of his son by Cleopatra. Banquets, munificent presents, gymnastic and musical matches, tragic exhibitions--among which Neoptolemus the actor performed in the tragedy of Cinyras, etc., with every species of attraction known to the age--were accumulated, in order to reconcile the dissentient parties in Macedonia, and to render the effect imposing on the minds of the Greeks; who, from every city, sent deputies for congratulation. Statues of the twelve great gods, admirably executed, were carried in solemn procession into the theatre; immediately after them, the statue of Philip himself as a thirteenth god. Amidst this festive multitude, however, there were not wanting discontented partisans of Olympias and Alexander, to both of whom the young queen with her new-born child threatened a formidable rivalry. There was also a malcontent yet more dangerous--Pausanias, one of the royal bodyguards, a noble youth born in the district called Orestis in upper Macedonia, who, from causes of offence peculiar to himself, nourished a deadly hatred against Philip. The provocation which he had received is one which we can neither conveniently transcribe, nor indeed accurately make out, amidst discrepancies of statement. It was Attalus, the uncle of the new queen Cleopatra, who had given the provocation, by inflicting upon Pausanias an outrage of the most brutal and revolting character. Even for so monstrous an act, no regular justice could be had in Macedonia against a powerful man. Pausanias complained to Philip in person. According to one account, Philip put aside the complaint with evasions, and even treated it with ridicule; according to another account, he expressed his displeasure at the act, and tried to console Pausanias by pecuniary presents. But he granted neither redress nor satisfaction to the sentiment of an outraged man. Accordingly Pausanias determined to take revenge for himself. Instead of revenging himself on Attalus--who indeed was out of his reach, being at the head of the Macedonian troops in Asia--his wrath fixed upon Philip himself, by whom the demand for redress had been refused. That the vindictive Olympias would positively spur on Pausanias to assassinate Philip, is highly probable. Respecting Alexander, though he also was accused, there is no sufficient evidence to warrant a similar assertion;[18] but that some among his partisans--men eager to consult his feelings and to insure his succession--lent their encouragements, appears tolerably well established. Unconscious of the plot, Philip was about to enter the theatre, already crowded with spectators. As he approached the door, clothed in a white robe, he felt so exalted with impressions of his own dignity, and so confident in the admiring sympathy of the surrounding multitude, that he advanced both unarmed and unprotected, directing his guards to hold back. At this moment Pausanias, standing near with a Gallic sword concealed under his garment, rushed upon him, thrust the weapon through his body, and killed him. Having accomplished his purpose, the assassin immediately ran off, and tried to reach the gates, where he had previously caused horses to be stationed. Being strong and active, he might have succeeded in effecting his escape--like most of the assassins of Jason of Pheræ under circumstances very similar--had not his foot stumbled amidst some vine-stocks. The guards and friends of Philip were at first paralysed with astonishment and consternation. At length, however, some hastened to assist the dying king, while others rushed in pursuit of Pausanias. Leonnatus and Perdiccas overtook him and slew him immediately. In what way, or to what extent, the accomplices of Pausanias lent him aid, we are not permitted to know. It is possible that they may have posted themselves artfully so as to obstruct pursuit, and favour his chance of escape; which would appear extremely small, after a deed of such unmeasured audacity. Three only of the reputed accomplices are known to us by name--three brothers from the Lyncestian district of upper Macedonia, Alexander, Heromenes, and Arrhibæus, sons of Æropus; but it seems that there were others besides. The Lyncestian Alexander whose father-in-law, Antipater, was one of the most conspicuous and confidential officers in the service of Philip, belonged to a good family in Macedonia, perhaps even descendants from the ancient family of the princes of Lyncestis. It was he who, immediately after Pausanias had assassinated Philip, hastened to salute the prince Alexander as king, helped him to put on his armour, and marched as one of his guards to take possession of the regal palace.[g] A SUMMING UP OF PHILIP’S CHARACTER His character was always to be without character in disposition and action; his principles, to have no principles and everywhere to dissemble his aims; his habits, to accustom himself to nothing, but solely to follow the inspirations of the moment; his strength, to remain master of himself in every condition and proceeding, and, in a thousand other causes and consequences of weakness, to follow his chief plan unchanged, and to lead everything around him, whilst to the short-sighted he appeared to be led by all. He possessed wit, sagacity, and eloquence, and made use of them. He was insinuating and condescending when it was a question of winning or deluding; merciful when he hated; irritating when he loved; compassionate when he himself had dealt the wounds; ready to comfort, when he had decided to strike the heart more deeply; poor, so as to soften the rage of the plundered rich, so as to reward his helpers; liberal with promises when he saw the people were credulous; full of respect for the gods only when he had a mind to; unconcerned as to the lawfulness of the means, provided they led to the end. “Philip,” says Pausanias, “accomplished the greatest deeds of all the Macedonian kings who reigned before and after him, and also broke more oaths and violated more covenants.” The new politics which Philip established, arose entirely out of his genius, and the master understood his work and knew how to use it. When Philip as a statesman formed something new with cleverness and vigour, the old must therefore have succumbed to it. The old methods were no longer suitable; the means failed the end, the roads no longer led to the goal; danger then took another form, and was threatened on another side. That which could have saved the Greeks from imitating the new methods of the opponent, and of seizing the spirit of them, and throwing themselves quickly into another kind of transaction, they were no longer capable of. By the side of politics he placed an improved war department, but one spirit drifted into both. Philip possessed the talents especially required by a general. In the greatest danger, full of presence of mind, he never doubted his safety; his most terrible deliberation in the field was quiet deliberation and stratagem. The Bœotians learned this when they had cut him off and already thought him caught, and the Chalcidonians whose cleverly contrived perfidy was wrecked by his cunning. He anticipated all his enemies; they admitted that on this account he always had advantage over them. Demosthenes says to the Athenians: “You wage war with Philip in the same way as the barbarians carry on a boxing match; when some one is hit he tries to protect the place, and if he is struck on another part his hands go to it; but to prevent the blow or to foresee it, they cannot and will not. It is thus with you; when you hear Philip is in Chæronea, you decide to send an army there, when in Pydna, also there, so that he is truly your commanding officer.” He maintained a standing army and was therefore always ready to strike; this gave him a great superiority, because as monarch he could at once use his fighting forces, without losing time in consultation. When he attacked the Greeks, his army had already been trained through fighting the surrounding barbarians; it had to learn how useful and necessary it was, and realise to what purpose he made them persevere in peace. He often made them march three hundred stadia encumbered with their weapons, with helmet, shield, and splints, and in addition to this, food and clothing and utensils. They had to observe the strictest discipline. A distinguished Tarentine was dismissed from the service because he had helped himself to a warm bath; Æropus and Damasippus were dismissed because they brought singers into the camp. In the same manner as Epaminondas, in whose school Philip had learned, beat the Lacedæmonian mora by a new formation of the army and deprived them of the efficiency of their firm, quiet movements--so Philip formed the Macedonian phalanx. Even Æmilius Paulus acknowledged that nothing ever terrified them. They stood the test at Chæronea, where the sacred troops of the Thebans were defeated, and the Athenians, also in the last fight for their freedom, did not prevail against them.[j] GROTE’S ESTIMATE OF PHILIP Thus perished the destroyer of freedom and independence in the Hellenic world, at the age of forty-six or forty-seven, after a reign of twenty-three years. Our information about him is signally defective. Neither his means, nor his plans, nor the difficulties which he overcame, nor his interior government, are known to us with exactness or upon contemporary historical authority. But the great results of his reign, and the main lines of his character, stand out incontestably. At his accession, the Macedonian kingdom was a narrow territory round Pella, excluded partially, by independent and powerful Grecian cities, even from the neighbouring sea coast. At his death Macedonian ascendency was established from the coasts of the Propontis to those of the Ionian Sea, and the Ambracian, Messenian, and Saronic gulfs. Within these boundaries, all the cities recognised the supremacy of Philip; except only Sparta, and mountaineers like the Ætolians and others defended by a rugged home. Good fortune had waited on Philip’s steps; but it was good fortune crowning the efforts of a rare talent. Indeed the restless ambition, the indefatigable personal activity and endurance, and the adventurous courage of Philip were such as, in a king, suffice almost of themselves to guarantee success, even with abilities much inferior to his. That among the causes of Philip’s conquests, one was corruption, employed abundantly to foment discord and purchase partisans among neighbours and enemies; that with winning and agreeable manners, he combined recklessness in false promises, deceit and extortion even towards allies, and unscrupulous perjury when it suited his purpose--this we find affirmed, and there is no reason for disbelieving it. Such dissolving forces smoothed the way for an efficient and admirable army, organised, and usually commanded, by himself. Its organisation adopted and enlarged the best processes of scientific warfare employed by Epaminondas and Iphicrates. Begun as well as completed by Philip, and bequeathed as an engine ready-made for the conquests of Alexander, it constitutes an epoch in military history. But the more we extol the genius of Philip as a conqueror, formed for successful encroachment and aggrandisement at the expense of all his neighbours--the less can we find room for that mildness and moderation which some authors discover in his character. If, on some occasions of his life, such attributes may fairly be recognised, we have to set against them the destruction of the thirty-two Greek cities in Chalcidice, and the wholesale transportation of reluctant and miserable families from one inhabitancy to another. Besides his skill as a general and politician, Philip was no mean proficient in the Grecian accomplishments of rhetoric and letters. Isocrates addresses him as a friend of letters and philosophy; a reputation which his choice of Aristotle as instructor of his son Alexander tends to bear out. Yet in Philip, as in the two Dionysii of Syracuse and other despots, these tastes were not found inconsistent either with the crimes of ambition or the licenses of inordinate appetite. The contemporary historian Theopompus, a warm admirer of Philip’s genius, stigmatises not only the perfidy of his public dealings, but also the drunkenness, gambling, and excesses of all kinds in which he indulged--encouraging the like in those around him. His Macedonian and Grecian bodyguard, eight hundred in number, was a troop in which no decent man could live; distinguished indeed for military bravery and aptitude, but sated with plunder, and stained with such shameless treachery, sanguinary rapacity, and unbridled lust, as befitted only centaurs and Læstrygons. The number of Philip’s mistresses and wives was almost on an oriental scale; and the innumerable dissensions thus introduced into his court through his offspring by different mothers, were fraught with mischievous consequences. In appreciating the genius of Philip, we have to appreciate also the parties to whom he stood opposed. His good fortune was nowhere more conspicuous than in the fact, that he fell upon those days of disunion and backwardness in Greece (indicated in the last sentence of Xenophon’s _Hellenics_) when there was neither leading city prepared to keep watch, nor leading general to take command, nor citizen-soldiers willing and ready to endure the hardships of steady service. Philip combated no opponents like Epaminondas, or Agesilaus, or Iphicrates. How different might have been his career, had Epaminondas survived the victory of Mantinea, gained only two years before Philip’s accession! To oppose Philip, there needed a man like himself, competent not only to advise and project, but to command in person, to stimulate the zeal of citizen-soldiers, and to set the example of braving danger and fatigue. Unfortunately for Greece, no such leader stood forward. In counsel and speech Demosthenes sufficed for the emergency. Twice before the battle of Chæronea--at Byzantium and at Thebes--did he signally frustrate Philip’s combinations. But he was not formed to take the lead in action, nor was there any one near him to supply the defect. In the field, Philip encountered only that “public inefficiency,” at Athens and elsewhere in Greece, of which even Æschines complains; and to this decay of Grecian energy, not less than to his own distinguished attributes, the unparalleled success of his reign was owing. We shall find during the reign of his son Alexander the like genius and vigour exhibited on a still larger scale, and achieving still more wonderful results; while the once stirring politics of Greece, after one feeble effort, sink yet lower, into the nullity of a subject province.[g] FOOTNOTES [15] [This made Demosthenes part Scythian.] [16] [Niebuhr,[h] commenting on our scant information, says, “It is as if the muse of Greece had grown dumb on the death-day of Greek liberty, and had thrown her veil over the death blow.” Later he notes the remarkable coincidence that the battle of Chæronea was fought in the same year in which Rome conquered the Volscians and Latins “and laid the foundation of her sovereignty over all Italy.”] [17] [According to Diodorus,[i] he said, “Since Fortune, O King, has represented thee like Agamemnon, art thou not ashamed to act the part of Thersites?” With this sharp reproof Philip was so startled, they say, that he wholly changed his former course, and with admiration released the man that had reprehended him and advanced him to places of honour.] [18] [But Niebuhr[h] is less negative. He exclaims, “Alexander was no doubt deeply implicated in this murder. A jury would have condemned him as an accomplice. But he was prudent enough to make away with the participators in the conspiracy, who might have betrayed him.”] [Illustration] CHAPTER L. ALEXANDER THE GREAT The world has seen many great conquerors, but certainly not more than two or three who have stamped their names so indelibly upon the pages of history and appealed to the imagination of so wide an audience as the hero of Macedonia. The young soldier’s meteoric career, which Appian, the great Roman historian, justly likened to a flash of lightning, had all the elements of dramatic picturesqueness. Alexander was the wonder of the age in which he lived, and no less a wonder to each succeeding generation. A myth soon grew up about his name, but the myth was scarcely more wonderful than the bald facts of his history. The main outlines of that history are familiar to every school-boy, yet it is a curious fact that no contemporary record of the achievements of Alexander has come down to us. We have the account of the Persian Wars written by Herodotus who was born before their close. We have the record of the Peloponnesian War written by Thucydides who participated in it, and by Xenophon who must have known personally many of its greatest actors. Xenophon has also left us a biography of Agesilaus, who so nearly anticipated Alexander in an Asiatic conquest, and, in so doing, he writes not merely as a contemporary but as a personal friend. But the oldest extant writings that give us an account of the deeds of Alexander were not penned until some three centuries after that hero lived and died. It is true that contemporary records of the history of Alexander were written in numbers, but by some curious chance no copy of any one of these records has been preserved. Fortunately, however, the histories of Alexander that have come down to us are all based more or less on the contemporary records that are lost. There are five of these important histories, all written, perhaps, almost in the same century--the works namely of Diodorus, Justin, Plutarch, Curtius, and Arrian. The most ancient of these is the history of Diodorus, which dates from somewhere about the age of Julius Cæsar; the latest, that of Arrian, was written probably about the time of the reign of Adrian. There are, of course, numerous other classical authors who make reference to Alexander, but these five are the only ones who have given us anything like a complete history of his doings. Of these histories, by common consent, the most authoritative is that of Arrian.[i] This work is based upon the writings of two of Alexander’s generals, Ptolemy and Aristobulus. The point of view from which the work is written cannot be better described than in the author’s own words: “I have admitted into my narrative as strictly authentic all the statements relating to Alexander and Philip which Ptolemy, son of Lagus, and Aristobulus, son of Aristobulus, agree in making; and from those statements which differ I have selected that which appears to me the more credible, and at the same time the more deserving of record. Different authors have given different accounts of Alexander’s actions; and there is no one about whom more have written, or more at variance with each other; but in my opinion the narratives of Ptolemy and Aristobulus are more worthy of credit than the rest--Aristobulus, because he served under King Alexander in his expedition, and Ptolemy’s, not only because he accompanied Alexander in his expedition, but also because, being a king himself, the falsification of the facts would have been more disgraceful to him than to any other man. Moreover they are both more worthy of credit, because they compiled their histories after Alexander’s death, when neither compulsion was used nor reward offered to them to write anything different from what really occurred. Some statements also made by other writers I have incorporated in my narrative, because they seemed to me worthy of mention and not altogether improbable; but I have given them merely as reports of Alexander’s proceedings. And if any man wonders why, after so many other men have written of Alexander, the compilation of this history came into my mind, after perusing the narratives of all the rest, let him read this of mine, and then wonder--if he can.” When one reflects on the library of volumes that have been written in recent times on Alexander and his doings, it is curious to consider how meagre are the original materials on which all this elaboration is based. The entire accounts of Diodorus, Justin, Plutarch, Curtius, and Arrian if printed together in full would make but a comparatively small volume. Nor can it be said that any recent discoveries have greatly altered the point of view from which the history of Alexander is to be regarded, or largely added to our knowledge of the subject. The reader who has mastered these five classical authorities has learned practically all that is specifically known regarding the deeds of Alexander, and every modern historian who treats of the subject must bear these original authorities constantly in mind.[a] Before taking up Alexander’s deeds in detail, it may be well to quote, by way of transition from father to son, the epigrammatic comparison made by Justin, between Philip and Alexander, using Brown’s translation of 1712: PHILIP AND ALEXANDER COMPARED BY JUSTIN [Sidenote: [356-336 B.C.]] “Philip was killed in the Forty-Seventh Year of his Age, after he had Reigned Twenty-Five Years. He had a Son by an Actress of Larissa, whose Name was Aridæus, who reign’d after Alexander. He had, as ’tis usual with Princes, several other Sons by several Wives, some of whom died a Natural, and others fell by a violent Death. He was a Prince that took more Delight in Arms than in Feasting. His greatest Riches consisted in his Military Stores. He was more dexterous at getting Money than at keeping of it, which was the Reason that he was everlastingly Poor and Necessitous, amidst all his Rapines and Plunders. He was naturally inclined neither to Mercy nor Pity, but used both indifferently, as his Affairs required. “He thought no Way dishonourable to overcome an Enemy. In his Discourse he was Free and Courteous, but always designing. He would promise infinitely more than he intended to perform. He was equally excellent at Railery and serious Discourse. He measured Friendship not by Fidelity, but the Advantages it brought. His principal Talents were to pretend Love where he hated most, to excite Animosities and Distrusts between Friends, and at the same time to curry Favour with both. Among his other Qualities, Eloquence was none of the least, his Conversation was sprightly and subtle and neither did the Easiness of it exclude its Elegance, nor its Elegance Adulterate the Beauty of its Easiness. “He was succeeded by his Son Alexander, who surpassed his Father both in his Virtues and his Vices. Their Methods of Conquering were extremely different. The Son carried on his Wars by open Force, the Father by Artifice and Stratagem. One loved to trick an Enemy underhand, the Other to defeat them gallantly in the Field by Bravery. One was more subtle in Council, the Other more Magnificent in his Temper. “The Father could dissemble, and for the most part overcome his Anger. The Son, when he was thoroughly inflamed, neither knew how to allay, nor Moderate his Revenge. Both of them were over-greedy of Wine, but the Vices of their Drunkenness were different. The Father would run from an Entertainment to go and engage with an Enemy and rashly expose himself to Danger. The Son quarrelled with his friends in his Wine, and treated them like Enemies. Thus we find that Philip has frequently returned from Battels Wounded, and Alexander came from a Banquet stained with the Blood of his Friends. One would rule in Conjunction with his Friends, the Other would reign over them. The Father rather chose to make himself beloved, the Son to be fear’d. Both of ’em were equal Encouragers and Lovers of Learning. The Father had more Cunning, the Son more Honour. Philip was more moderate in his Conversation, Alexander in his Actions, which he show’d by being more Merciful and Generous to the Conquer’d. The Father loved Frugality, the Son was more inclined to Luxury. With these Qualifications the Father laid a Foundation for the Conquest of the World, which the Son most Gloriously accomplished.”[d] ALEXANDER’S YOUTH ACCORDING TO QUINTUS CURTIUS The kings of Macedon derived their pedigree from Hercules; and Olympias, Alexander’s mother, reckoned the origin of her family from Achilles. From his very infancy he wanted neither allurements or examples to excite him in the pursuit of glory, nor masters to teach him virtue, nor exercise to accustom him to it. For his father, Philip, did by his continual wars raise the reputation of the Macedonians, who, till then were accounted despicable, and by his conquest of Greece, made them formidable everywhere. In fine, he not only laid the foundations of the great things which were done after his death, but even a little before his decease, having resolved to carry the war into Persia, he had levied men, gathered provisions, raised money, and, in short, had an army ready for that expedition; and had actually opened a passage into Asia, by the means of Parmenion. But in this very juncture he was taken away, as if to leave to his son so great forces to carry on the war, and reap the full glory of it, when it was finished; which seems to have been the contrivance of fortune, who always yielded entire obedience to Alexander alone. This prince was so much in the admiration of all men, not only after he had done so great things, but even at his first setting out, that it was a question whether it were not more reasonable to ascribe the divine original of so great a man immediately to Jupiter himself, rather than mediately to the same god by the Æacidæ and Hercules. When he went himself to visit the temple of Ammon in Libya, nothing less would content him than to be called his son, as we shall shew in the sequel. Moreover, it was the opinion of many that Alexander was the offspring of a serpent which had been seen in his mother’s bed-chamber, and into which Jupiter had transformed himself; that the credit of his divine pedigree was advanced by dreams and prophesies; and that when Philip sent to Delphi to consult about it, he was admonished by the oracle, to pay the greatest reverence to Ammon. On the other hand, there are those who affirm, “That all this is mere fiction; and that there was reason to suspect Alexander’s mother was guilty of adultery: for that Nectanebus, king of Egypt, who was driven from his kingdom, did not go to Ethiopia, as was commonly believed, but went to Macedonia, in hopes of receiving succours from Philip against the power of the Persians. That he deceived Olympias by the force of magical enchantments, and defiled his landlord’s bed. That from that time Philip had a jealousy of her, and that it afterwards appeared this was the chief cause of their divorce. That the very day that Philip brought Cleopatra into his house, Attalus, his wife’s uncle, took the liberty to reproach Alexander with the baseness of his birth, while the king himself disowned him for his son. In fine, that the constant rumour of Olympias’ adultery was entertained not only in that part of the world, but even among the nations which he conquered. That the fiction of the serpent was derived from ancient fables, on purpose to conceal the ignominy of that princess. That the Messenians had formerly given out the same story concerning Aristomenes, and the Sicyonians concerning Aristodemus.” In reality the same report was spread abroad concerning Scipio, who was the first that ruined Carthage; and the birth of Augustus was in like manner thought to have had something divine in it. For as to Romulus, the founder of Rome, there is no occasion to say anything of him; since there is no nation so contemptible, but derives its origin either from some god, or the offspring of a god. After all, the flight of Nectanebus does not agree with those times; for Alexander was six years of age, when that prince was vanquished by Ochus, and lost his kingdom and inheritance; but for all this, the tale which is reported of Jupiter, is not the less likely to be false. It is affirmed, that Olympias herself, having nothing to fear after her husband’s death, laughed at the vanity of her son, who would needs have it believed that he was sprung from Jupiter; and begged him in a letter, “not to expose her to Juno’s indignation, seeing that she had been guilty of nothing that deserved that punishment.” However, before that time, she is thought to have been the person that took the most pains to gain credit to this fable, and is said to have admonished Alexander upon his expedition into Asia, “To be mindful of his origin, and do nothing that was unworthy of so great a father.” But it is generally agreed, that between the conception and birth of that prince, it was signified both by prodigies and divers presages, how considerable a person should be born. Philip saw in his sleep the womb of Olympias sealed up with a ring, on which the picture of a lion was engraved; the memory whereof was preserved by the city of Alexandria in Egypt, which was for a long time called Leontopolis. Aristander, the ablest diviner of that time, who afterwards accompanied Alexander, and was his chief priest, interpreted the dream, and said it signified the magnanimity and courage of the infant. The same night that Olympias was brought to bed, the temple of Diana in Ephesus, the most famous of all Asia, was burnt to ashes. This was done by a profligate villain, who being apprehended and put to the torture, confessed he had no other view in doing it, but to preserve his memory by some great and memorable act of impiety. Wherefore the Magi, who were then at Ephesus, not reckoning so great a misfortune from the loss of the temple alone, but looking upon it as a presage of greater destruction, filled the whole city with mournful exclamations; “That there was a torch kindled somewhere, which, on the like account, and from the same motive, should one day consume all the East.” Philip being blessed with a son, of whom so many happy omens made him conceive the highest hopes, turned all his thoughts towards his education. For being a wise man, and a lover of his country, he easily perceived that all his endeavours would be to no purpose, if he should leave an ignorant and slothful prince behind him, to govern Macedonia, while things were in an unsettled state everywhere: and that his glory could not be long-lived, if the great things he had begun should be lost and ruined by the weakness or negligence of a successor. Among his letters, that discreet and elegant one which he wrote to Aristotle, who was then at Athens with Plato, is yet extant, and is conceived in words much to this purpose: “Philip to Aristotle wisheth Health. “I am to acquaint you, that a son is born to me; nor do I thank the gods so much for his birth, as for his being born in your time. I hope that when he shall have been educated and instructed by you, he shall be worthy of us, and fit to succeed to so great a kingdom. For I think it much better to be without children, than to beget them for a punishment, and educate them to the shame and dishonour of their ancestors.” Nor was Philip mistaken; for having been long under the direction of Aristotle, the effect was, that the instructions he received from that great master, laid a foundation for, and enabled him to perform all the great exploits which he executed from that time. When he grew up, there appeared a perfect symmetry in his members, his joints were strong and firm; and being but of a middle stature, he was really stronger than he appeared to be. His skin was white, only his cheeks and his breast were dyed with an agreeable red; his hair was yellow, and went into a gentle curl; his nose was aquiline, and his eyes of different colours: for his left eye is said to have been blue, and his right very black. There was a certain secret virtue in them; insomuch that nobody could look on his countenance without veneration and fear. He could run with wonderful swiftness, which he often practised, even when he was king, as esteeming it of great use in expeditions; and he was often seen to run for a prize with the swiftest persons about him. He bore fatigue with a patience and firmness that even passes belief; and by this one virtue he oftentimes saved both himself and his armies in the greatest extremities. By frequent exercises, and a very warm constitution, he did so purge off any bad humours which commonly lodge under the skin, that not only his breath, but also what he perspired through the pores of his body were sweet, and his very clothes had a fragrant smell; and this was the cause, as some think, why he was so much inclined to wine and passion. Pictures and statues of him are yet to be seen, which were the performances of the best artists. For lest the comeliness of his face should suffer any thing from the unskilfulness of vulgar sculptors or painters, he strictly forbade any to draw his picture without his order, and threatened to punish any one that should disobey it. In consequence whereof, though there was abundance of good workmen, yet Apelles was the only person who had his consent to draw his picture; Pyrgoteles to grave him on precious stones, and Lysippus and Polyclitus to represent him in medals. His governor Leonidas is said to have walked too fast, which Alexander learnt of him; and never was able to help it afterwards by all his endeavours. I am not ignorant that very much is owing to education, but I am inclined to impute this rather to the temper of that young prince, than to his accustoming himself to it; for it was impossible for one of his ardour and impetuosity of spirit, not to have the motions of his body answerable to it. And this hastiness of his was so far from being accounted an imperfection by his successors, that they studiously affected it, and imitated him therein; as they did in his wry neck, which leaned to his left shoulder, in his piercing look and high voice, being incapable to copy the virtues of his mind. In reality, there were many of them whose long lives had scarce anything in them that deserved to be compared to his childhood. Nor did he ever say or act anything that was mean or base, but all his words and actions were equal to, or even surpassed, his fortune. For though he was most ambitious of praise, yet he did not affect to draw it indifferently from every thing, but would have it arise from things that were most praiseworthy; being sensible that the praise which arises from mean actions is inglorious and dishonourable, and that that victory which is gained over the meanest enemy, is so much the more noble and illustrious. Therefore when some persons told him, “that seeing he was an excellent runner, he ought to list himself among those who were to contend for the prize at the Olympic games, after the example of a king of his name; and that thereby he should acquire a great fame all over Greece”: he answered, “I would certainly do so, if I were to run against kings.” As often as Philip obtained any signal victory, or reduced any rich and strong place, he could not conceal his grief, amidst the rejoicing of others; and he was heard to complain amongst boys of his own age, “that his father would leave nothing for him and them to do when they came to be men.” For he looked upon every accession of power and riches to be a diminution to his glory, and had a stronger passion for honour than for wealth. He was naturally disposed to sleep but little, and increased his watchfulness by art. If anything happened to him that required serious thought, he put his arm out of the bed, holding a silver ball in his hand, which by its fall into a basin might make a noise, and so disperse that heaviness which was inclining him to slumber. From his very infancy he loved to worship the gods splendidly; and one day as they were sacrificing, he flung so much incense into the fire, that Leonidas, who was a severe and parsimonious man, not being able to bear that profusion, cried out, “You may burn incense in this manner when you conquer the countries where it grows.” Remembering this saying afterwards, when he settled the affairs of Arabia, which produces incense, he sent Leonidas a vast quantity of this perfume, ordering him withal, “to be more liberal for the future, in paying honour to the gods, since he was now convinced that they did plentifully repay the gifts that had been cheerfully made them.” _Aristotle as His Teacher_ [Illustration: ARISTOTLE] That he understood the more sublime sciences, is evident from his letter to Aristotle, wherein he complains, “That he had profaned their dignity by divulging their principles.” Upon which, Aristotle excused himself by answering, “That those books were published in such a manner, as that they might be reckoned not published; for that no body would be able to understand the meaning of them, but such as had already been instructed in the principles which they contained.” When Alexander demanded his books of rhetoric, he strictly forbade him to let them come to the hands of any other; for he was no less desirous to excel others in arts and sciences, than in power and greatness; nor could he endure that men of the lowest rank should share that glory with him. Besides, it appears from his letters that he studied physic under one Aristotle, who was the son of a physician, of the race of Æsculapius. But he studied that part of philosophy so well, which teaches a man to command both himself and others, that he is thought to have undertaken the supervision of that vast weight and power of the Persian empire, rather by his magnanimity, prudence, temperance, and fortitude, than by his arms and riches. He frankly owned, “That he owed more to Aristotle than to Philip; for that he was indebted to the one for his life; to the other for that life’s being formed upon the principles of honour and virtue.” Nevertheless, it has been believed by some, not without ground, that his mind, which was so fired with ambition, was yet more inflamed by the too great value which Aristotle set upon honour and glory, which he placed in the rank of things that may be called goods; so that he not only multiplied wars upon wars, in order to extend his dominions, but would needs be looked upon as a god. Of all the monuments of antiquity, he had the greatest esteem for Homer, who, he thought, was the only person that had perfectly described that wisdom by which empires subsist; and such a passion for him, that he was called Homer’s Lover. He was wont to carry his books always along with him; and even when he went to bed, he put them and his sword under his pillow, calling them “his military viaticum, and the elements of warlike virtue.” He esteemed Achilles to have been happy in finding so great a man to celebrate his virtues. Having found a most curious casket, both for matter and workmanship, amongst the plunder of Damascus, and his friends having asked him “What use it was most proper for?” he answered, “We will dedicate it to Homer, since it is but reasonable that the most precious monument of human wit should be preserved in the finest piece of workmanship.” From hence the most correct edition of that poet, which Alexander was at much pains to get, was called the “edition of the casket”; because in that casket the Persians had used to keep odours and perfumes. One day as a certain messenger of good news ran towards him, in all haste stretching out his right hand, with the highest marks of joy on his countenance; “What news can you tell me,” says he, “that’s worthy of so much joy, unless that Homer is alive again?” He was then arrived to such a degree of happiness, that he thought there wanted nothing to complete his glory, but one capable to trumpet his praise. By frequent reading of him, he had got almost all by heart; so that no person could quote him more readily or familiarly, or judge of him more justly. _Bucephalus_ He showed an extraordinary courage and dexterity, to the great astonishment of his father and others, in managing the horse Bucephalus, which name was given him from his being marked with the figure of an ox’s head. Thessaly was very much famed at that time for fine horses, and great numbers of them were bred in that country, but none of them was to be compared to Bucephalus either for mettle or beautifulness; for which reason Philonicus a Pharsalian, thinking him worthy of the greatest prince in those parts, brought him to Philip, and proposed to sell him for sixteen talents. But when they came to try his speed and management, by riding him out into the fields, there was none of the king’s friends or attendants that durst venture to manage him; for he rose upon them, and frightened all that essayed to mount him, by his fierceness: so that he was now looked upon as unmanageable and useless, upon the account of his wildness: at which Alexander sighing said, “What a fine horse those people lose through their ignorance and cowardice.” After having repeated these words over and over, his father chid him “for finding fault with horsemen that were both older and more skilful than himself, as if he could manage that horse better than they.” To which he answered, “I will manage him better than they, father, if you will give me leave.” Upon this, the father asked him, “What he would forfeit if he could not execute what he had undertaken?” “I will forfeit the price of the horse,” replied he. At this every body smiled, and agreed, “That if he won, his father should buy the horse for him; but if he lost, he should lay down the money himself.” Then Alexander, taking the horse by the bridle, turned him directly to the sun, that so he might not see his shadow; for he had observed, that this frightened him, and made him more untractable. Finding his fury not much abated notwithstanding this, he stroked his mane, laid his cloak aside gently, and jumped upon him at once, though he was foaming with rage. Then Bucephalus, that was not used to obey, began to fling with his heels, and throw about his head, and very obstinately refuse to be guided by the bridle; then he essayed to get loose, and run away full speed. He was then in a spacious plain that was fit for riding in: wherefore Alexander, giving him the rein, and setting his spurs to his sides, rode shouting with all the vigour and fury imaginable. And after he had traversed a vast space of ground, till he was weary, and willing to stop, he spurred him on till such time as his mettle was exhausted, and he became tame; after which he brought him back very gentle and tractable. When Alexander alighted, his father embraced him with tears of joy, and kissing him, said, “He must seek out a larger empire for himself, for that the kingdom of Macedon was too small for so vast a spirit.” Afterwards Bucephalus continued the same fierceness towards others, while he obeyed Alexander alone with a wonderful submission; and after he had been his companion in many labours and dangers, he was at last killed in a battle against Porus.[e] ALEXANDER’S FIRST DEEDS From the remotest ages of Pelasgian antiquity down to the time of the Roman empire, the holy island of Samothrace, the seat of an awfully mysterious worship, was accounted equal to Delphi in sanctity. Here it is said Philip first saw Olympias, when they partook at the same time in the Cabirian mysteries, and resolved to seek her hand. Olympias loved the fanatical orgies celebrated by the Thracian and Macedonian women in honour of their Dionysus; and is even said to have introduced some of the symbols of this frantic worship,--the huge tame snakes, which the Bacchanals wreathed round their necks and arms,--into her husband’s palace. It is a stroke which agrees well with the other features of her wild, impetuous character. Who can estimate the degree in which this irritable, uncontrollable nature may have contributed one element towards that combination of ardent enthusiasm with the soberest forethought which distinguishes Alexander, perhaps above every man that ever filled a like station? The anecdotes related of Alexander’s boyhood are chiefly remarkable as indicating what may be fitly called a kingly spirit, which not only felt conscious that it was born to command, and was impatient of all opposition to its will, but also studied how it might subject all things and persons around it to its own higher purposes. This inborn royalty of soul could hardly have failed to find its way to fame, had it even been originally lodged in an obscure corner. But the prince, who was destined to effect so great a change in the state of the world, was to be committed to the care of the man whose spirit was not less active and ambitious, who also in the range of his intellectual conquests had never been equalled, and who founded a much more lasting empire in the sphere of thought. Never, before or since, have two persons so great in the historical sense of the word, been brought together--above all in the same relation--as Alexander and Aristotle. Alexander was but thirteen years old when he became the philosopher’s pupil. This relation appears to have subsisted between them for no more than three successive years. Alexander was only sixteen when Philip set out on his expedition to Thrace, from which he only returned in the autumn of 339, and he was entrusted with the regency of the kingdom--probably under the direction of a council--during his father’s absence. He was then of course occupied with affairs of state; and in the course of this time, a revolt of one of the conquered tribes, probably on the Illyrian frontier, afforded an occasion for his first essay in the art of war. He reduced the insurgents, took their chief city, expelled its inhabitants, and planted a new colony there, to which he gave the name of Alexandropolis. In the interval between the battle of Chæronea and his father’s death, he was engaged in transactions quite alien from philosophical or literary pursuits. It is very doubtful whether he saw Aristotle again before he came to the throne. Their personal intercourse must at least have been confined to occasional interviews. It is pleasing to find it recorded that still he wrote a book on the office of a king expressly for Alexander. Nevertheless we have unquestionable proof that even on this head the force of nature was stronger than that of education. Aristotle’s national prejudices led him into extravagant notions as to the superiority of the Hellenic race over the rest of mankind: as if the distinction between Greek and barbarian was nearly the same as between man and brute, person and thing: hence slavery appeared to him not a result of injustice and cruelty, but an unalterable law of nature, a relation necessary to the welfare of society. Hence too he deduced a practical maxim, which he endeavoured to inculcate upon the future conqueror of Asia, that he should treat the Greeks as his subjects, the barbarians as his slaves. The advice was contrary to Alexander’s views and sentiments: it did not suit the position which his consciousness of his own destiny led him to assume. He acted, we know, on a directly opposite principle. We have at least reason to believe that Alexander, though he was but twenty years old at his father’s death, had learned, thought, seen, and done more to fit him for the place he was to fill, than many sovereigns in the full maturity of their age and experience. Like his father, he found himself, on his accession to the throne, in a situation which called forth all the powers of his mind and all the energies of his character. Macedonia, though nominally at peace with all its European neighbours, was surrounded by enemies, who might be expected eagerly to seize the opportunity, which seemed to offer itself now that the crown had devolved on a stripling, to shake off a yoke which they had endured with ill-disguised impatience. In the kingdom itself there were powerful families, which had not forgotten the times when they aspired to independence, if not to the possession of the throne. Amyntas, too, the son of Perdiccas, was still living, and might be tempted to assert his claim. It was known that the court of Persia was on the watch. The young king’s first object was to secure himself at home: the next to overawe his hostile neighbours, and to extort from them such an acknowledgment of his superiority, as would place him in the position which his father was occupying at the time of his death. In Macedonia, though there might be some ambitious and disaffected nobles, the mass of the people both recognised his title and were attached to his person. Amyntas, son of Perdiccas, was put to death on a charge of a plot against Alexander’s life. After the last honours had been paid to his father, the king showed himself in a general assembly of his people, and declared his intention of prosecuting his predecessor’s undertakings with like vigour, and, it is said, granted a general immunity from all burdens except military service. The news of Philip’s death had excited a general ferment throughout Greece. The gloomy prospect which, since the battle of Chæronea, must have saddened so many hearts--the thought that the flower of the Grecian youth were henceforth to shed their blood for the execution of projects which threatened their country with perpetual subjection--was suddenly exchanged for the liveliest hopes of deliverance from the foreigner’s power. In all the principal states language was heard, and preparations were seen, denoting a disposition to take advantage of the unexpected opportunity. Ambracia expelled the Macedonian garrison, and re-established its democratical institutions. The Acarnanian exiles who had taken refuge in Ætolia prepared to return, and the Ætolians in their congress voted succours to reinstate them. Athens took the lead in these movements, and indeed seems to have been the centre from which they proceeded. DEMOSTHENES RIDICULES ALEXANDER [Sidenote: [336 B.C.]] Among the Athenian envoys who had been sent to congratulate Philip was Charidemus; being at Ægæ at the time of Philip’s death, he lost no time in despatching a courier, who was directed to carry the news to Demosthenes before he communicated it to any one else. It happened that the orator was at this juncture mourning the loss of an only daughter, who had died but seven days before; but his private sorrow gave way to public cares. He immediately laid aside his weeds, came out dressed in white, with a festive wreath on his head, and a joyful countenance, and was seen performing a solemn sacrifice at one of the public altars. In order to give greater effect to the momentous tidings, the orator appears to have resorted to a stratagem which proves that he knew his countrymen to be still superstitious, and credulous. He appeared before the council of Five Hundred, and declared that it had been revealed to him in a dream by Zeus and Athene, that some great good was about to happen to the commonwealth. Messengers soon after arrived with the news which fulfilled the divine announcement. It was apparently the object of Demosthenes, by this artifice, to impress the people with his own view of the change which Philip’s death had made in the situation and prospects of Athens. It was at least as harmless an imposture as was ever practised; and, if fraud could ever be pious, might deserve that epithet.[19] He now moved moreover that religious honours should be decreed to the memory of Pausanias. This conduct of Demosthenes was strongly censured by his contemporaries on various grounds; though not on those which render it most repugnant to the maxims and feelings of civilised society in modern times. Yet we know that even under the better light which we enjoy, not only the massacre of the Huguenots was celebrated with public rejoicings and thanksgivings in the capital of Christian Europe, but the assassination of the prince of Orange, and that of Henry III of France, were openly applauded, and Balthasar Gérard and Clément treated as heroes. [Illustration: BUST OF ALEXANDER (In the Capitoline Museum, Rome)] Phocion objected to the proposed demonstrations of joy on two accounts: first, because such exultation over an enemy’s death was dastardly, and then, because the force which had won the day at Chæronea had only been diminished by the loss of a single life. That the loss which Macedonia had sustained by Philip’s death, was only to be reckoned as that of a single soldier, was manifestly false; and the best excuse that can be offered for Demosthenes is, that he wished to place the event in a different light--one which he might well believe to be the true one. We cannot indeed be sure that he entertained so low an opinion of Alexander’s abilities as he thought it expedient to profess; though it appears that the impression made on him by the young prince when he saw him at his father’s court was not favourable, and on his return from his embassy he turned his boyish performance into ridicule. It was true that Alexander had at least acted the part of a man better than himself at Chæronea; but his real character, and the promise of greatness which he held out, could not yet be known at Athens. Perhaps some report of his multifarious studies and attainments had been heard there, which afforded a handle for Demosthenes to compare him with Margites, the hero of a burlesque poem attributed to Homer, who knew many things, but none well; and the orator now ventured to assure the Athenians, that they had nothing to fear from the young king, who would never stir from Macedonia, but would remain at Pella, dividing his time between his peaceful studies and the inspection of victims, which would never permit him to undertake any dangerous expedition. There were beside engines which the orator was able to set at work against him, which were known only to himself, and which he was obliged to keep secret, but which might reasonably strengthen his confidence. He was in correspondence with the Persian court, and had, it seems, already received sums of money from it to be distributed at his discretion for the purpose of thwarting Philip’s enterprise against Asia. The conduct of Demosthenes in this transaction--if we consider that he was carrying on a clandestine negotiation with a foreign state against which his own had declared war, to injure a prince who was the ally of Athens--cannot be vindicated on the principles which regulate the intercourse of civilised nations in modern times. But how little were such scruples heeded when Napoleon’s disasters opened a prospect for restoring the independence of Germany! The people, however, seem to have retained too lively a recollection of the consternation which had followed the battle of Chæronea, to pledge themselves hastily to a renewal of the contest with Macedonia. The language of Æschines inclines us to believe that they did not adopt the motion of Demosthenes with respect to Pausanias. But he prevailed on them to send envoys to many of the Greek states, with secret instructions. The Persian gold, or the promise of subsidies, may have overcome many obstacles. There was another quarter in which the Athenian emissaries might still more safely reckon on a friendly reception. Attalus, Alexander’s personal enemy, was commanding a body of troops in Asia. A negotiation was opened with him by means of a letter from Demosthenes, and nothing probably but want of time prevented its success. ALEXANDER DASHES THROUGH GREECE [Sidenote: [336-335 B.C.]] But all these plans and preparations were disconcerted and suppressed by the rapidity of Alexander’s movements. It seems as if his elder counsellors, who had been long used to Philip’s cautious policy, advised him to leave the Greeks for the present to themselves, and not to make any attempt to force them to obedience, until he had established a good understanding with the barbarian tribes on his northern frontier, which after Philip’s death had begun to assume a threatening aspect. Alexander, however, saw that, if he should adopt such a course, the work of his father’s reign might be undone in a few months: he saw that his presence was immediately necessary in Greece, and he set his forces in motion without delay. In his passage through Thessaly, he endeavoured to conciliate the ruling families by promises. All the concessions that had been made to Philip were renewed to him: their revenues and troops were placed at his disposal. At Thermopylæ he assembled the Amphictyonic council, perhaps before the ordinary time of the autumnal meeting with a view to secure the adherence of the northern tribes which had votes in it; and from them it seems he received the title [Leader of the Greeks] which had been conferred on his father in the Sacred War. He then advanced by rapid marches to Thebes, where, as no preparations had yet been made to execute the resolution which had been precipitately adopted, his presence awed the disaffected into entire submission. His approach produced a like effect at Athens. The people hastened to appease him by an embassy, which they sent to apologise for their late proceedings, and to offer him all the honours they had conferred on Philip. Demosthenes himself was appointed one of the envoys--perhaps through the intrigues of his adversaries; and he even proceeded as far as Cithæron, on his way to the Macedonian camp. We do not know whether it was his own reflections on the dangers of his mission, or some hints which he received as to Alexander’s intentions, that induced him to find some excuse for turning back. The rest of the ambassadors, however, found the king ready to accept their excuses and promises, perhaps were led to believe that he had never suspected the commonwealth of any hostile designs. He despatched a trusty officer, named Hecatæus, over to Asia, with orders either to arrest Attalus and convey him to Macedonia, or to put him to death. It seems that Attalus had so won the affections of his troops, that Hecatæus thought it safest to have him secretly killed. Alexander had sent envoys before him to summon a fresh congress at Corinth. He found this assembly as obsequious as that which had been called by his father; and was invested by it with the same title and authority for the prosecution of the war with Persia, as had been bestowed on Philip. Sparta alone either refused to send deputies to the congress, or instructed them to disavow its proceedings. She had been used--such was still her language--herself to take the lead among the Greeks, and would not resign her hereditary rank to another. Alexander perhaps smiled at these pretensions of a state which was hardly able to protect itself, but did not think it worth while to put its resolution to the test, by an invasion of its territory. So too the revolt of Ambracia did not appear to him important enough to detain him so long as would have been necessary to crush it. He even condescended to assure the Ambracians that they had only forestalled his intentions: that he should of his own accord have restored their democratical institutions. It was a concession which his commanding posture enabled him to make with dignity, and therefore without danger. Having thus in the course of a few weeks settled the affairs of Greece, he returned to Macedonia, with the hope that in the following spring he might be able to embark for Asia. ALEXANDER WINNOWS THE NORTH But when the season for military operations drew near in 335, reports were heard of movements among the Thracian tribes and the Triballians, which seemed to render it necessary, for the security of his kingdom during his absence, that he should spread the terror of his arms in that quarter, before he began an expedition which would carry him so far away from it. Early in the spring Alexander set out on his march toward the Danube. A small squadron of ships of war was ordered to be fitted out at Byzantium, and to sail up the river to meet the army. In ten days, having crossed the Hebrus at Philippopolis, it reached the foot of the Balkan. Here the Thracians had collected their forces to guard the defiles, and were seen entrenched behind their wagons on the summit of the pass. As the road which led up to it was extremely steep, they had formed the plan of rolling their wagons down on the enemy as they advanced, and then falling on their broken ranks. Alexander perceived the object of their preparations, and provided against the danger. The heavy infantry were ordered, where the ground permitted, to open their files and make way for the wagons: where this was not practicable, to throw themselves forward on the ground, and link their shields together over their heads, so that the descending masses might bound over them. The shock came and passed in a few moments, leaving the men unhurt; they closed their ranks, and rose from the ground with heightened courage. The enemy were soon dislodged from their position by a skilful and vigorous charge, leaving fifteen hundred slain: the fugitives easily escaped; the camp, in which were their wives and children, fell into the hands of the victors. Having crossed the mountains without further interruption, Alexander now resumed his march, and in three days reached the right bank of the Danube, where he found the galleys which he expected from Byzantium. Under favour of night they crossed over unmolested, and landed in fields of standing corn. This the phalanx levelled, as it marched through, with its spears, the cavalry following until they reached the open ground, where the enemy, astonished and dismayed by their unexpected appearance, did not even wait for the first charge of the horse, but took refuge in their town which lay but a few miles off. Even this--for it was poorly fortified--they abandoned at Alexander’s approach, and taking as many as they could of the women and children on their horses, retreated into the wilderness. The town was sacked and razed to the ground, and Alexander having sacrificed on the right bank of the Danube to the gods who had granted him a safe passage, returned to his camp on the other side. Here he received embassies, with submissive or at least pacific overtures, from Syrmus, and from many of the independent nations bordering on the river. His chief object was attained in the proof thus afforded of the terror inspired by his arms. He now turned his march westward, to reach the borders of Illyria, through the country of the Agrianians and Pæonians, on the western side of the mountains which contain the springs of the Hebrus and the Nestus. The king however was enabled to pursue his march without obstruction up the valley of the Erigon, towards the fortress of Pelium. It stood on high ground in the midst of lofty wooded hills, which were also guarded by Illyrian troops, so as to command all the approaches of the place; and the barbarians had sought an additional safeguard against the assaults of the Macedonians, in a sacrifice, which they celebrated on the hill tops, of three boys, three girls, and as many black rams. Yet all these precautions proved fruitless; and Alexander, after he made himself master of the adjacent hills--where he found the victims of those horrid rites--was proceeding to invest Pelium itself, when the arrival of Glaucias with a numerous army compelled him to retire, that he might provide for his own safety. We shall not dwell on the evolutions by which he extricated himself from a most perilous position. It is sufficient to mention that he first penetrated through a difficult defile, and crossed a river in the presence of an enemy greatly superior in numbers; and three days afterwards, having suddenly returned, fell upon the allies, whose camp was carelessly guarded, in the night, and broke up their host. Glaucias fled towards his home, and was pursued by Alexander with great slaughter as far as the mountains which protected his territories. Clitus at first took shelter in Pelium; but soon despairing of his own resources, set fire to the fortress, and retreated into the dominions of Glaucias. THE REVOLT OF THEBES [Sidenote: [335 B.C.]] The accounts which reached Greece of Alexander’s operations in these wild and distant regions, were, it may be supposed, very imperfect and confused; and at length, during an interval in which no news was heard of him, a report of his death sprang up, or was studiously set afloat. The report seems to have encouraged a party of Theban exiles to enter the city by night, and attempt a revolution. They began in an unhappy spirit with the massacre of two officers of the Macedonian garrison. They then summoned an assembly, and prevailed on the people to rise in open insurrection, and lay siege to the Cadmea. The citizens who were still in exile were recalled, the slaves enfranchised, the aliens won by new privileges. Demosthenes furnished them with a subsidy which enabled them to procure arms, and induced the Athenians to enter into an alliance with them, and emboldened the people to decree an expedition in aid of the Thebans. This decree, however, was not carried into effect. Elis, too, openly espoused the cause of the Thebans so far as even to send their forces as far as the isthmus, where they were joined by those of some Arcadian states. But here their generals were induced to halt, by the tidings which reached them of Alexander’s return. He was still at Pelium when he heard of the revolt of Thebes. He knew that unless it was crushed in time it would probably spread, and he was anxious about the garrison of the Cadmea. He therefore set out immediately for Bœotia. In seven days, having traversed the upper provinces of Macedonia and crossed the Cambunian range towards its junction with Pindus, he reached Pelinna in Thessaly. Six days more brought him into Bœotia. So rapid were his movements that, before the Thebans had heard that he had passed Thermopylæ, he had arrived at Onchestus. The authors of the insurrection would not at first listen to the news of his approach; they gave out that it was Antipater who commanded the Macedonian army: and then that Alexander, the son of Æropus, had been taken for his royal namesake. But when the truth was ascertained, they found the people still willing to persevere in the struggle which had now become so hopeless. Alexander, on the other hand, wishing to give them time for better counsels, now moved slowly against the city; and even when he had encamped near the foot of the Cadmea, which they had encompassed with a double line of circumvallation, waited some time for proposals of peace, which he was ready to grant on very lenient terms. There was a strong party within which was willing to submit to his pleasure, and urged the people to cast themselves on his mercy: but the leaders of the revolt, who could expect none for themselves, resisted every such motion; and as beside their personal influence they filled most places in the government, they unhappily prevailed. It was their object to draw matters to extremities. When Alexander sent to demand Phœnix and Prothytas, two of their chiefs, they demanded Philotas and Antipater in return; and when he proclaimed an offer of pardon to all who should surrender themselves to him and share the common peace, they made a counter proclamation from the top of a tower, inviting all who desired the independence of Greece to take part with them against the tyrant. These insults, and especially the animosity and distrust which they implied, put an end to all thoughts of peace, and Alexander reluctantly prepared for an assault. The fate of Thebes seems after all to have been decided more by accident than by design. Perdiccas, who was stationed with his division in front of the camp, not far from the Theban entrenchments, without waiting for the signal, began the attack, and forced his way into the space between the enemy’s lines, and was followed by Amyntas son of Andromenes, who commanded the next division. Alexander was thus induced to bring up the rest of his forces. Yet at first he only sent in some light troops to the support of the two divisions which were engaged with the enemy. When however Perdiccas had fallen, severely wounded, as he led his men within the second line of entrenchments, and the Thebans, who at first had given way, rallied and in their turn put the Macedonians to flight, he himself advanced to the scene of combat with the phalanx, and fell upon them in the midst of the disorder caused by the pursuit. They were instantly routed, and made for the nearest gates of the city, in such confusion that the enemy entered with them, and being soon joined by the garrison of the Cadmea, made themselves masters of the adjacent part of the city. The besieged made a short stand in the market-place; but, when they saw themselves threatened on all sides, the cavalry took to flight through the opposite gates, and the rest as they could find a passage. But few of the foot combatants effected their escape; and the conquerors glutted their rage with unresisted slaughter. It was not however so much from the Macedonians, as from some of their auxiliaries, that the Thebans suffered the utmost excesses of hostile cruelty. Alexander had brought with him a body of Thracians among his light troops, and he had been reinforced by the Phocians and by all the Bœotian towns hostile to Thebes--more especially by Orchomenos, Thespiæ, and Platæa. The Thracians, impelled by their habitual ferocity, of which they had shown so fearful a specimen many years before, at the capture of Mycalessus; the Bœotians, eager to revenge the wrongs they had endured from Thebes in the day of her prosperity--revelled in the usual license of carnage, plunder, and wanton outrages on those whose age and sex left them most defenceless. The bloodshed, however, was restrained by cupidity, that the most valuable part of the spoil might not be lost. The number of the slain was estimated at six thousand; that of the prisoners at thirty thousand. The Macedonians lost about five hundred men. THE FATE OF THEBES It only remained to fix the final doom of the conquered city. Alexander, who had probably made up his mind on it, referred it to a council of his allies, in which the representatives of the Bœotian towns took a leading part. The issue of their deliberation might be easily foreseen, and did not want plausible reasons to justify it. There was a sentence which had been hanging over Thebes ever since the Persian War in which she had so recklessly betrayed the cause of Grecian liberty. It had never been forgotten, and calls had been heard from time to time for its execution. And the city which had so long been permitted by the indulgence of the Greeks to retain a forfeited existence, had nevertheless been distinguished by her merciless treatment of her conquered enemies. In the case of Platæa she had not only instigated the Spartans to a cold-blooded slaughter, forbidden by the usages of Greek warfare, but she had destroyed a city which by its heroic patriotism had earned the gratitude of the whole nation, and was itself a monument of the national triumph. Nor was it forgotten that when Athens was at the mercy of its enemies she alone had proposed to sweep it from the face of Greece. It seems that these old offences were placed in the foreground, while little notice was taken of the later acts of violence and oppression towards the Bœotian towns, which were the real grounds of their implacable resentment. The decree of the council was that the Cadmea should be left standing, to be occupied by a Macedonian garrison; that the lower city should be levelled with the ground, and the territory, except the part which belonged to the temples, divided among the allies: the men, women, and children, sold as slaves, all but the priests and priestesses, and some citizens who stood in a relation of hospitality to Philip or Alexander, or held the office of proxenus to the state of Macedonia. Under this head were probably included most of the conqueror’s political adherents. He made one other exception, which was honourable rather to his taste than his humanity. He bade spare the house of Pindar, and as many as were to be found of his descendants. The council likewise decreed that Orchomenos and Platæa should be rebuilt. The demolished buildings of Thebes may have furnished materials for the restoration of Platæa. [Illustration: RUINS OF THE GREAT-GATE IN THE WALLS OF MESSENE] It can hardly be doubted that policy had a large share in this rigorous measure, and that Thebes was destroyed chiefly because it would not have been safe to leave it standing, and that the example of its fate might strike the rest of Greece with a wholesome awe. Alexander himself in his subsequent treatment of individual Thebans tacitly acknowledged that his severity had been carried to an extreme which bordered upon cruelty. But the harshness which he displayed in this case enabled him to assume the appearance of magnanimity and gentleness in others. All the Greek states which had betrayed their hostility towards him, now vied with one another in apologies, recantations, and offers of submission. A reaction immediately took place at Elis in favour of the Macedonian party; and in the Arcadian towns which had sent succours for the Thebans, the authors of this imprudent step were condemned to death. The Ætolians too who had shown some symptoms of disaffection sent an embassy to deprecate the king’s displeasure. Athens, however, had most reason to dread his anger, and strove to avert it by a servile homage, which at once marks the character of the man who proposed it and the depth to which the people had fallen since the battle of Chæronea. When the first fugitives arrived from Thebes, the Athenians were celebrating their great Eleusinian mysteries. All fled in consternation to the city, and removed their property out of the country within the walls. An assembly was immediately called, in which, on the motion of Demades, it was decreed that ten envoys, the most acceptable that could be found, should be sent to congratulate Alexander on his safe return from his northern expedition, and on the chastisement which he had inflicted on Thebes. The king discovered no displeasure at this piece of impudent obsequiousness, but in reply sent a letter to the people demanding nine of the leading anti-Macedonian orators and generals--Demosthenes, Lycurgus, Hyperides, Polyeuctus, Chares, Charidemus, Ephialtes, Diotimus, and Mœrocles, whom he charged both with the transactions which had led to the battle of Chæronea, and with all the hostile measures that had since been adopted at Athens towards his father and himself, particularly with the principal share in the revolt of Thebes. In the assembly which was held to consider this requisition, Phocion, it is said, both counselled the people to surrender the objects of the conqueror’s resentment or apprehensions, and exhorted the elected victims to devote themselves spontaneously for the public weal. Demosthenes is reported to have quoted the fable of the wolf who called on the sheep to give up their dogs. The people wavered between fear and reluctance, till Demades stept in to remove the difficulty. He undertook--it was commonly believed for a fee of five talents--to appease Alexander, and save the threatened lives. He found the king satiated with the punishment of the Thebans, and disposed for an exercise of mercy which might soften the impression it had produced on the minds of the Greeks. He remitted his demand with respect to all except Charidemus, who perhaps had incurred his peculiar displeasure by his conduct at Ægæ after Philip’s death, and who now embarked for Asia, and proceeded to the Persian court. The conqueror celebrated his return to Macedonia with an Olympic festival at Ægæ, and with games in honour of the Muses at Dium in Pieria. The inhabitants of Dium held the memory of Orpheus in great reverence, and boasted of the possession of his bones. At the time of the games it was reported that a statue of the ancient bard, which perhaps adorned his monument near the town, had been seen bathed in sweat. Alexander’s Lycian soothsayer, Aristander of Telmessus, bade him hail the omen: it signified that the masters of epic and lyric poetry should be wearied by the tale of his achievements. These achievements will now for some time claim our undivided attention.[h] FOOTNOTES [19] [It is a bishop and a doctor of divinity, Thirlwall, who justifies this mummery. If it is “excusable” and almost “pious,” the trickeries of Philip merit the same tender consideration.] [Illustration: GREEK HARVESTING] [Illustration: APOLLO AND MERCURY] CHAPTER LI. ALEXANDER INVADES ASIA SCHEMES OF CONQUEST [Sidenote: [334 B.C.]] A year and some months had sufficed for Alexander to make a first display of his energy and military skill, destined for achievements yet greater; and to crush the growing aspirations for freedom among Greeks on the south, as well as among Thracians on the north, of Macedonia. The ensuing winter was employed in completing his preparations; so that early in the spring of 334 B.C., his army destined for the conquest of Asia was mustered between Pella and Amphipolis, while his fleet was at hand to lend support. The whole of Alexander’s remaining life--from his crossing the Hellespont in March or April 334 B.C., to his death at Babylon in June 323 B.C., eleven years and two or three months--was passed in Asia, amidst unceasing military operations, and ever-multiplied conquests. He never lived to revisit Macedonia; but his achievements were on so transcendent a scale, his acquisitions of territory so unmeasured, and his thirst for further aggrandisement still so insatiate, that Macedonia sinks into insignificance in the list of his possessions. Much more do the Grecian cities dwindle into outlying appendages of a newly grown oriental empire. During all these eleven years, the history of Greece is almost a blank, except here and there a few scattered events. It is only at the death of Alexander that the Grecian cities again awaken into active movement. The Asiatic conquests of Alexander do not belong directly and literally to the province of an historian of Greece. They were achieved by armies of which the general, the principal officers, and most part of the soldiers, were Macedonian. The Greeks who served with him were only auxiliaries, along with the Thracians and Pæonians. Though more numerous than all the other auxiliaries, they did not constitute, like the Ten Thousand Greeks in the army of the younger Cyrus, the force on which he mainly relied for victory. His chief secretary, Eumenes of Cardia, was a Greek, and probably most of the civil and intellectual functions connected with the service were also performed by Greeks. Many Greeks also served in the army of Persia against him, and composed indeed a larger proportion of the real force (disregarding mere numbers) in the army of Darius than in that of Alexander. Hence the expedition becomes indirectly incorporated with the stream of Grecian history by the powerful auxiliary agency of Greeks on both sides--and still more, by its connection with previous projects, dreams, and legends, long antecedent to the aggrandisement of Macedon--as well as by the character which Alexander thought fit to assume. To take revenge on Persia for the invasion of Greece by Xerxes, and to liberate the Asiatic Greeks, had been the scheme of the Spartan Agesilaus and of the Pheræan Jason; with hopes grounded on the memorable expedition and safe return of the Ten Thousand. It had been recommended by the rhetor Isocrates, first to the combined force of Greece, while yet Grecian cities were free, under the joint headship of Athens and Sparta; next, to Philip of Macedon as the chief of united Greece, when his victorious arms had extorted a recognition of headship, setting aside both Athens and Sparta. The enterprising ambition of Philip was well pleased to be nominated chief of Greece for the execution of this project. From him it passed to his yet more ambitious son. Though really a scheme of Macedonian appetite and for Macedonian aggrandisement, the expedition against Asia thus becomes thrust into the series of Grecian events, under the Panhellenic pretence of retaliation for the long-past insults of Xerxes. We call it a pretence, because it had ceased to be a real Hellenic feeling, and served now two different purposes: first, to ennoble the undertaking in the eyes of Alexander himself, whose mind was very accessible to religious and legendary sentiment, and who willingly identified himself with Agamemnon or Achilles, immortalised as executors of the collective vengeance of Greece for Asiatic insult; next, to assist in keeping the Greeks quiet during his absence. He was himself aware that the real sympathies of the Greeks were rather adverse than favourable to his success. Apart from this body of extinct sentiment, ostentatiously rekindled for Alexander’s purposes, the position of the Greeks in reference to his Asiatic conquests was very much the same as that of the German contingents, especially those of the confederation of the Rhine, who served in the grand army with which the emperor Napoleon invaded Russia in 1812. They had no public interest in the victory of the invader, which could end only by reducing them to still greater prostration. They were likely to adhere to their leader as long as his power continued unimpaired, but no longer. Yet Napoleon thought himself entitled to reckon upon them as if they had been Frenchmen, and to denounce the Germans in the service of Russia as traitors who had forfeited the allegiance which they owed to him. We find him drawing the same pointed distinction between the Russian and the German prisoners taken, as Alexander made between Asiatic and Grecian prisoners. These Grecian prisoners the Macedonian prince reproached as guilty of treason against the proclaimed statute of collective Hellas, whereby he had been declared General and the Persian king a public enemy. Hellas, as a political aggregate, has now ceased to exist, except in so far as Alexander employs the name for his own purposes. Its component members are annexed as appendages, doubtless of considerable value, to the Macedonian kingdom. Fourteen years before Alexander’s accession, Demosthenes, while instigating the Athenians to uphold Olynthus against Philip, had told them: “The Macedonian power, considered as an appendage, is of no mean value; but by itself, it is weak and full of embarrassments.” Inverting the position of the parties, these words represent exactly what Greece herself had become, in reference to Macedonia and Persia, at the time of Alexander’s accession. Had the Persians played their game with tolerable prudence and vigour, his success would have been measured by the degree to which he could appropriate Grecian force to himself, and withhold it from his enemy. Alexander’s memorable and illustrious manifestations, on which we are now entering, are those, not of the ruler or politician, but of the general and the soldier. In his character his appearance forms a sort of historical epoch. It is not merely in soldier-like qualities--in the most forward and even adventurous bravery, in indefatigable personal activity, and in endurance as to hardship and fatigue--that he stands pre-eminent; though these qualities alone, when found in a king, act so powerfully on those under his command, that they suffice to produce great achievements, even when combined with generalship not surpassing the average of his age. But in generalship, Alexander was yet more above the level of his contemporaries. His strategic combinations, his employment of different descriptions of force conspiring towards one end, his long-sighted plans for the prosecution of campaigns, his constant foresight and resource against new difficulties, together with rapidity of movement even in the worst country--all on a scale of prodigious magnitude--are without parallel in ancient history. They carry the art of systematic and scientific warfare to a degree of efficiency, such as even successors trained in his school were unable to keep up unimpaired.[b] THE PROBLEM AND THE TROOPS At a first glance Alexander’s projects appear to bear no slight disproportion to the resources at his disposal. In superficial extension his kingdom (even inclusive of Greece) was barely equal to one-fiftieth of the Persian empire, and the numerical proportion of his fighting power to that of Persia by sea and land was even less in his favour. If we add that at Philip’s death the Macedonian treasury was exhausted, that the greater part of the royal domain had been given away; that most of the imposts and tributes had been remitted; and finally that, while enormous stores of gold and silver lay amassed in the treasuries of the Persian empire, Alexander, on the completion of his armaments, which cost him eight hundred talents [about £160,000 or $800,000] had no more than seventy talents [£14,000 or $70,000] left to begin the war with Asia--the enterprise does in truth appear foolhardy and almost chimerical. But a closer study of the circumstances shows that Alexander’s projects, though certainly bold, were not rash, but came within the compass of the forces and expedients at his command. To realise the possibility and necessity of their success, to understand the organisation of his army and the character of its operations, we must forget the analogies of modern campaigns, since war--as little dependent as anything else in history on normal laws and conditions--changes its theory and purpose with the change of the local and historical conditions involved. The armies which conquered the East were unable to withstand the legions of Rome. With reference to the financial considerations we must first bear in mind that Alexander invaded an enemy’s country, where he might reasonably expect to find treasure and stores of all sorts. When once his host was armed and provided with money and food enough to last till they encountered the foe, he had no further need of a large war-fund; the wars of his time not being rendered costly by expensive ammunition and elaborate transport. Thus the lack of money did not hamper Alexander, while the vaunted treasures of the Great King and the Persian satraps made them all the more welcome as the adversaries to the Macedonian soldiery. [Illustration: STATUE OF ALEXANDER] The disproportion of the Macedonian sea-power seems a more serious matter. The Persian king could command four hundred sail, his fleet was that of the Phœnicians, the best seamen of the ancient world, and, in their last sea-fight at least, they had defeated the Hellenes. The Macedonian sea-power, founded by Philip but never yet put to the test, was insignificant, and the fleet which was to sail against the Persians consisted mainly of the triremes of the Greek confederacy, from whom an extreme devotion was naturally not to be expected. Alexander’s plans were based entirely upon the excellence of his land forces, and the only use of the fleet was to insure the safety of these in their first movements. When this object had been achieved it became a burden, and Alexander therefore soon took the opportunity of dismissing it. Lastly, to turn to the Macedonian army, we cannot but recognise in its organisation a rare combination of fortunate circumstance and great military talent. The moral superiority of the Greek army, as opposed to the material superiority of the Persians, had been more and more gloriously proven in almost every war for the last two centuries. The more highly the art of war was developed among the Greeks by civil and foreign strife, the more formidable did they become to the troops of the Persian empire; Alexander’s army, full of martial ardour and proud memories, skilled in all the technicalities of the military profession, and notable by reason of its thoroughly practical organisation as the first strategic body known to history, bore in itself the certainty of victory. The armies of Asia have always been characterised by the vehemence of their onslaught, their overwhelming numbers, and their wild rushes hither and thither, which make them formidable even in flight. In addition to this there were many thousands of Greeks in Persian pay, so that Alexander could not reckon on having to wage war merely on barbarians, but had to look for Hellenic arms, courage, and military skill, on the part of the enemy. Finally, in accordance with the natural scope of his great enterprise, the mobility necessary for taking offensive, and the stability essential to military occupation, had both to be considered in the constitution of his army. THE SIZE OF THE ARMY In Philip’s time the Macedonian forces had consisted of thirty thousand infantry and from three to four thousand horsemen. Alexander had led about the same number of troops against Thebes. On his departure for Asia he left twelve thousand foot-soldiers and fifteen hundred mounted men in Macedonia under the command of Antipater, and their place was taken by eighteen hundred Thessalian knights, five thousand Greek mercenaries, and seven thousand heavy-armed troops furnished by the Greek states. Besides these he had in his following five thousand Triballians, Odrysians, Illyrians, etc., from one to two thousand archers and Agrianian light infantry, Greek cavalry to the number of six hundred, Thracian and Pæonian to the number of nine hundred. The sum total of his troops therefore amounted to not much over 30,000 infantry and a little more than 5,000 horse. This, with slight divergencies suggested by the details of the narrative, is the estimate of Diodorus. Ptolemy Lagi gives the same figures in his _Memorabilia_, and Arrian repeats them after him. When Anaximenes reckons thirty-four thousand men on foot and five thousand five hundred on horseback he perhaps includes the corps which had already been despatched to Asia by Philip. The estimate of Callisthenes, 40,000 infantry, is obviously too high. The whole body of infantry and cavalry was not divided into legions or brigades, but into troops bearing the same weapons and, to some extent, recruited from the same district. The very advantages of a Macedonian army rendered necessary an arrangement which would be unsatisfactory under present conditions; the phalanx would have been no phalanx if it had fought with cavalry, light infantry, and Thracian slingers all combined into a complete army in miniature. It is the general use of small fighting units which has made it necessary for the parts of an army to be self sufficient, and to repeat on a small scale the organisation of the whole. Against such an enemy as the Asiatic hordes--collected together for a pitched battle without previous discipline or training, giving up all for lost after a single defeat, and gaining nothing but renewed danger by a victory over organised troops--against such an enemy, solid and homogeneous masses have the advantage of simplicity, weight, and internal stability, and in the same region where Alexander’s phalanx overpowered the army of Darius the Roman legions succumbed to the vehement onslaught of the Parthians. On the whole, Alexander’s army was well adapted for such pitched battles, and hence the bulk of it consisted of his phalanxes and heavy cavalry. THE PHALANX AND THE CAVALRY [Illustration: A SOLDIER OF ALEXANDER’S PHALANX] The peculiar character of the phalanx was due to the weapons and co-ordination of the individual members. They were heavily armed according to Greek ideas, equipped with helmets, armour, and a shield which protected the whole body, and their chief weapons were the Macedonian sarissa, a lance more than twenty feet long, and the short Greek sword. Intended solely for close fighting in the mass, they had to be so arranged as to be able, on the one hand, calmly to await the fiercest onset of the enemy, and on the other, to be sure of breaking through the opposing ranks with a rush. They therefore usually stood sixteen deep, the lances of the first five files projecting beyond the front, an impenetrable and indeed unassailable barrier to the advancing enemy; the hinder files laid their sarissa on the shoulders of those in front, so that the charge of the phalanx was irresistible from the double force of weight and motion. Nothing but the thorough gymnastic training of the individual members of the phalanx rendered possible the unity, precision, and rapidity necessary for the very difficult evolutions of a body of men crowded into so small a space. Alexander had about eighteen thousand of these heavy-armed soldiers, the so-called foot-guards, and at the beginning of the campaign they were divided into six divisions under the generals Perdiccas, Cœnus, Craterus, Amyntas the son of Andromenes, Meleager, and Philip the son of Amyntas. The nucleus of these troops at least was Macedonian, and the divisions were named after the Macedonian districts from which they were recruited; thus the division under Cœnus came from Elimea, that under Perdiccas from Orestis and Lyncestis, that of Philip (afterwards led by Polysperchon) from Stymphæa, etc. What the phalanx was among the infantry, the Macedonian and Thessalian _ilai_ were among the cavalry. Both were composed of heavy-armed soldiers and consisted of the nobility of Macedonia and Thessaly; equal in arms, in birth, and in fame, they vied with each other in distinguishing themselves in the eyes of the king, who usually fought at their head. The importance of this arm to Alexander’s enterprise was proved in almost every fight; terrible alike in single combat and in charges in the mass, their discipline and armour rendered them superior to the light Asiatic cavalry, however great their numbers, and their onslaught on the enemy’s foot was generally decisive. According to the estimate of Diodorus, the knighthood of Macedonia and Thessaly each consisted of five hundred knights; but he, like Callisthenes, sets the cavalry of the Macedonian army at no more than four thousand five hundred men, while the best authorities place it at over five thousand. The two bodies of knights were armed alike--Calas, the son of Harpalus, had command of the Thessalians; Philotas, the son of Parmenion, of the Macedonians. The latter naturally took the highest rank of the whole Macedonian army, and bore the name of the “guards” or the “king’s guards.” It consisted of eight _ilai_ or squadrons, which were called indifferently by the names of their districts or of their _ilarchoi_ (colonels). That under Clitus called the royal _ile_, held the first rank among the Macedonian knighthood and formed the _agema_ or royal guard. Besides these knights from Macedonia and Thessaly, there were six hundred more Greek horsemen in the army; they were usually attached to the Thessalian squadron, and seemed to have been similarly armed and drilled. They were commanded by Philip, the son of Menelaus. Next in rank comes that peculiarly Macedonian body, the hypaspists. The Athenians under Iphicrates had already instituted, under the name of peltasts, a corps with linen corslets, and lighter shields and longer swords than those carried by the hoplites, in order to have a force swifter in attack than the latter and heavier than the light-armed troops. This new kind of corps was received with great approval in Macedonia; the soldier of the phalanx was too heavily armed for service about the person of the king, the light armed soldier was neither dignified nor serviceable enough. This intermediate force was selected for the purpose, and received the name of hypaspists from the long shield, the aspis, as it was called, which they had adopted from the phalanx. This force was of enormous value in a war against Asiatic tribes, for the lie of the land hampered only too often the full use of the phalanx, and it was often essential to attempt surprises, quick marches, and strokes of all sorts for which the phalanx was not sufficiently mobile nor the light troops sufficiently steady. For occupying heights, forcing the passage of rivers, and supporting and following up cavalry charges, these hypaspists were