Greece was unsatisfactory. Subsequently, when they apprehended a similar danger from Sparta, they did not think it worth their while to ask help from Athens. They did not care to be refused a second time, and on this occasion they applied to Philip. He was not the man to miss such an opportunity; and thus Macedonian influence was brought to bear on the affairs of the Peloponnese. This was the unfortunate consequence of the indifference of Athens to the progress of Spartan ambition. She gave the impression to the Greek world that she was not in earnest in wishing to maintain the liberties of the states of the Peloponnese, although it had been her constant profession to do so. This was the inference drawn from her refusal to ally herself with Megalopolis against Sparta. Had she been guided by the counsels of Demosthenes, she would have assumed a dignified political attitude, and, as events turned out, have put a stumbling-block in the way of her future enemy and destroyer. It is true, indeed, that at that time there was no distinct cause of apprehension from Macedon, and there is not even any allusion to Philip in his speech of Demosthenes. We may therefore conclude that as yet he himself feared nothing in that quarter. Still, it is not the less to his credit that he urged Athens to adopt a policy which would have won for her the respect and confidence of many of the Greeks, and might have had the effect of excluding the intrusions of a most dangerous foreign influence into an important part of the Greek world.

CHAPTER VI.

FIRST SPEECH OF DEMOSTHENES AGAINST PHILIPSPEECH FOR THE FREEDOM OF THE PEOPLE OF

RHODES.

THE year 352 B.C. brought with it the beginnings of great events. In that year, for the first time, the King of Macedon really showed that he might possibly be entertaining designs fraught with peril to the Greek world. He had prominently intervened in Greek politics. He had taken a conspicuous part in the Sacred or Holy War between the Thebans and Phocians. Once, indeed, he had been utterly defeated by the Phocian leader, Onomarchus, and had been driven back into his kingdom with loss and disaster, though report made him say that "he did not fly, but fell back like the battering-ram, to give a more violent shock another time." He speedily again entered Thessaly with a more powerful army; and with the help of his allies in that country and of the admirable Thessalian cavalry, he won at Pagasa a decisive victory over Onomarchus, who perished in the fight. Now he was completely master of Thessaly, a country which ought to have been under the control of a Greek state, and in which, of late, Theban inluence had been supreme. Macedon was thus in effect the principal

land power to the north of the Peloponnese; and her king had both displayed military genius, and had shown that he was in command of an army with which it was already a question whether any single Greek state could cope. The battle just fought was on a very considerable scale, and could not have failed to suggest unpleasant apprehensions to the mind of every thinking politician. Philip might very possibly follow up his success with an instant invasion of northern Greece. He did in fact advance on Thermopylæ; but Athens had forestalled him, and the famous pass was guarded by a force before which he thought prudent to retire. The Athenians exulted in the reflection that they had once again been the deliverers of Greece. But their joys were doomed to be of very brief duration.

For a few months the King of Macedon employed himself in securing a firm hold on Thessalay. Meanwhile his cruisers and privateers, of which he had contrived to raise a formidable number, infested the northern islands and coasts of the Ægean, to the great annoyance and injury of Athenian trade. In the autumn of 352 B.C. he hurried northwards, entered Thrace, and took advantage of its intestine feuds, with a view to getting the country under his control. In November news reached Athens, the serious import of which could not be misunderstood. Philip was besieging Heræum-a place probably on the northern coast of the Propontis, to the west of Perinthus. It was contiguous to the Thracian Chersonese, occupied, as we have seen, by Athenian colonists, and, as it appears, actually garrisoned by an Athenian force. The act was thus one of almost open hostility, and practically equivalent to a declaration of war. But what made it singularly alarming was, that it was a

most dangerous menace to the Athenian interests on the north of the Egean. It meant, in fact, peril to the corn trade of Athens, and high prices and possibly famine to the citizens. It showed, too, clearly enough, that Philip, if he could, would rob the city of its most valuable outlying possessions. Thus the eyes of the people ought to have been thoroughly opened to the danger which hung over them; but as soon as they knew that Philip was ill, and next heard a report of his death, they fell back into their love of the easy, comfortable life at Athens, with its pleasures and amusements, and flattered themselves with the notion that the crisis was finally past. The peace party, with Eubulus at its head, always strong, was now for the moment stronger than ever; and its best representative, the really patriotic Phocian, was too cynical to believe in the possibility of his countrymen being roused to the degree of effort and endurance which a serious struggle with Macedon would demand from them.

As soon as it was known that Philip had recovered, and was as active and aggressive as ever, there were, it appears, several acrimonious debates in the Assembly, with grievous complaints as to the inefficiency of the generals and of their troops. Athens still clung to her maritime supremacy, and it was felt to be disgraceful that this should be threatened by a barbarian. Still, her public men had not the moral courage to tell the people plainly the only way by which such a disgrace could be ended. It was painful to speak to them of personal service on shipboard, with all its hardships and risks. Demosthenes, in his speech on the war with Persia, had hinted, not obscurely, at this necessity. He did so far more clearly and persistently on the occasion we have been ascribing. At the age of

about thirty he spoke the memorable harangue known as the First Philippic.

The speech shows that he had now quite made up his mind on the subject of the foreign policy of Athens. A year ago he had not, as we may reasonably infer, regarded Macedon as a source of real danger to the freedom of the Greek worid. He was now convinced that Philip had designs beyond the mere establishment of a compact and powerful northern kingdom. He takes a broad view of the political situation, and speaks not merely as a citizen of the foremost state of Greece, but as a Greek on behalf of Greek security and independence.

It was assuredly much to the honor of Demosthenes that, as a young politician, he sounded a distinct note of warning, which he must have known would have jarred on the easy-going temper of his countrymen. Their affairs, he plainly tells them, were in a very bad plight; but there was hope, just because they had not as yet really exerted themselves. Therefore there was no reason for despair. Philip's power, indeed, was already great; he had Thessaly at his feet; he had defeated a Greek army under a brave and experienced leader; he was now threatening the Chersonese and the nothern coasts of the Egean, and with his fleet was harassing the commerce of Athens; still, he was not a more formidable foe than Sparta had been; and the fact that he was formidable at all was due to their own voluntary supineness, which, for the sake of Greece and for the glory of Athens, they must shake off once and forever. Otherwise, even if rumor had truly asserted Philip's death, they would soon raise up against themselves another Philip equally terrible.