Volume 6 — CHAPTER XLVIII. FROM THE BLOCKADE OF POTIDÆA DOWN TO THE END OF THE FIRST YEAR OF THE PELOPONNESIAN WAR.

Even before the recent hostilities at Korkyra and Potidæa, it had been evident to reflecting Greeks that the continued observance of the thirty years’ truce was very uncertain, and that the mingled hatred, fear, and admiration, which Athens inspired throughout Greece, would prompt Sparta and the Spartan confederacy to seize the first favorable opening for breaking down the Athenian power. That such was the disposition of Sparta, was well understood among the Athenian allies, however considerations of prudence and general slowness in resolving might postpone the moment of carrying it into effect. Accordingly, not only the Samians when they revolted had applied to the Spartan confederacy for aid, which they appear to have been prevented from obtaining chiefly by the pacific interests then animating the Corinthians,—but also the Lesbians had endeavored to open negotiations with Sparta for a similar purpose, though the authorities—to whom alone the proposition could have been communicated, since it remained secret and was never executed—had given them no encouragement.[123] The affairs of Athens had been administered under the ascendency of Periklês, without any view to extension of empire or encroachment upon others, though with constant view to the probabilities of war, and with anxiety to keep the city in a condition to meet it: but even the splendid internal ornaments, which Athens at that time acquired, were probably not without their effect in provoking jealousy on the part of other Greeks as to her ultimate views. The only known incident, wherein Athens had been brought into collision with a member of the Spartan confederacy prior to the Korkyræan dispute, was the decree passed in regard to Megara,—prohibiting the Megarians, on pain of death, from all trade or intercourse as well with Athens as with all ports within the Athenian empire. This prohibition was grounded on the alleged fact, that the Megarians had harbored runaway slaves from Athens, and had appropriated and cultivated portions of land upon the border; partly land, the property of the goddesses of Eleusis,—partly a strip of territory disputed between the two states, and therefore left by mutual understanding in common pasture without any permanent inclosure.[124] In reference to this latter point, the Athenian herald, Anthemokritus had been sent to Megara to remonstrate, but had been so rudely dealt with, that his death shortly afterwards was imputed as a crime to the Megarians.[125] We may well suppose that ever since the revolt of Megara, fourteen years before, which caused to Athens an irreparable mischief, the feeling prevalent between the two towns had been one of bitter enmity, manifesting itself in many ways, but so much exasperated by recent events as to provoke Athens to a signal revenge.[126] Exclusion from Athens and all the ports in her empire, comprising nearly every island and seaport in the Ægean, was so ruinous to the Megarians, that they loudly complained of it at Sparta, representing it as an infraction of the thirty years’ truce; though it was undoubtedly within the legitimate right of Athens to enforce,—and was even less harsh than the systematic expulsion of foreigners by Sparta, with which Periklês compared it.

These complaints found increased attention after the war of Korkyra and the blockade of Potidæa by the Athenians. The sentiments of the Corinthians towards Athens had now become angry and warlike in the highest degree: nor was it simply resentment for the past which animated them, but also the anxiety farther to bring upon Athens so strong a hostile pressure as should preserve Potidæa and its garrison from capture. Accordingly, they lost no time in endeavoring to rouse the feelings of the Spartans against Athens, and in inducing them to invite to Sparta all such of the confederates as had any grievances against that city. Not merely the Megarians but several other confederates, appeared there as accusers; while the Æginetans, though their insular position made it perilous for them to appear, made themselves vehemently heard through the mouths of others, complaining that Athens withheld from them that autonomy to which they were entitled under the truce.[127]

According to the Lacedæmonian practice, it was necessary first that the Spartans themselves, apart from their allies, should decide whether there existed a sufficient case of wrong done by Athens against themselves or against Peloponnesus,—either in violation of the thirty years’ truce, or in any other way. If the determination of Sparta herself were in the negative, the case would never even be submitted to the vote of the allies; but if it were in the affirmative, then the latter would be convoked to deliver their opinion also: and assuming that the majority of votes coincided with the previous decision of Sparta, the entire confederacy stood then pledged to the given line of policy,—if the majority was contrary, the Spartans would stand alone, or with such only of the confederates as concurred. Each allied city, great or small, had an equal right of suffrage. It thus appears that Sparta herself did not vote as a member of the confederacy, but separately and individually as leader,—and that the only question ever submitted to the allies was, whether they would or would not go along with her previous decision. Such was the course of proceeding now followed: the Corinthians, together with such other of the confederates as felt either aggrieved or alarmed by Athens, presented themselves before the public assembly of Spartan citizens, prepared to prove that the Athenians had broken the truce, and were going on in a course of wrong towards Peloponnesus.[128] Even in the oligarchy of Sparta, such a question as this could only be decided by a general assembly of Spartan citizens, qualified both by age, by regular contribution to the public mess, and by obedience to Spartan discipline. To the assembly so constituted the deputies of the various allied cities addressed themselves, each setting forth his case against Athens. The Corinthians chose to reserve themselves to the last, after the assembly had been previously inflamed by the previous speakers.

Of this important assembly, on which so much of the future fate of Greece turned, Thucydidês has preserved an account unusually copious. First, the speech delivered by the Corinthian envoys. Next, that of some Athenian envoys, who happening to be at the same time in Sparta on some other matters, and being present in the assembly so as to have heard the speeches both of the Corinthians and of the other complainants, obtained permission from the magistrates to address the assembly in their turn. Thirdly, the address of the Spartan king Archidamus, on the course of policy proper to be adopted by Sparta. Lastly, the brief, but eminently characteristic, address of the ephor Stheneläidas, on putting the question for decision. These speeches, the composition of Thucydidês himself, contain substantially the sentiments of the parties to whom they are ascribed: neither of them is distinctly a reply to that which has preceded, but each presents the situation of affairs from a different point of view.

The Corinthians knew well that the audience whom they were about to address had been favorably prepared for them,—for the Lacedæmonian authorities had already given an actual promise to them and to the Potidæans at the moment before Potidæa revolted, that they would invade Attica. So great was the revolution in sentiment of the Spartans, since they had declined lending aid to the much more powerful island of Lesbos, when it proposed to revolt,—a revolution occasioned by the altered interests and sentiments of Corinth. Nor were the Corinthians ignorant that their positive grounds of complaint against Athens, in respect of wrong or violation of the existing truce, were both few and feeble. Neither in the dispute about Potidæa nor about Korkyra, had Athens infringed the truce or wronged the Peloponnesian alliance. In both, she had come into collision with Corinth, singly and apart from the confederacy: she had a right, both according to the truce and according to the received maxims of international law, to lend defensive aid to the Korkyræans at their own request,—she had a right also, according to the principles laid down by the Corinthians themselves on occasion of the revolt of Samos, to restrain the Potidæans from revolting. She had committed nothing which could fairly be called an aggression: indeed the aggression, both in the case of Potidæa and in that of Korkyra, was decidedly on the side of the Corinthians: and the Peloponnesian confederacy could only be so far implicated as it was understood to be bound to espouse the separate quarrels, right or wrong, of Corinth. All this was well known to the Corinthian envoys; and accordingly we find that, in their speech at Sparta, they touch but lightly, and in vague terms, on positive or recent wrongs. Even that which they do say completely justifies the proceedings of Athens about the affair of Korkyra, since they confess without hesitation the design of seizing the large Korkyræan navy for the use of the Peloponnesian alliance: while in respect of Potidæa, if we had only the speech of the Corinthian envoy before us without any other knowledge, we should have supposed it to be an independent state, not connected by any permanent bonds with Athens,—we should have supposed that the siege of Potidæa by Athens was an unprovoked aggression upon an autonomous ally of Corinth,[129]—we should never have imagined that Corinth had deliberately instigated and aided the revolt of the Chalkidians as well as of the Potidæans against Athens. It might be pretended that she had a right to do this, by virtue of her undefined metropolitan relations with Potidæa: but at any rate, the incident was not such as to afford any decent pretext for charge against the Athenians, either of outrage towards Corinth,[130] or of wrongful aggression against the Peloponnesian confederacy.

To dwell much upon specific allegations of wrong, would not have suited the purpose of the Corinthian envoy; for against such, the thirty years’ truce expressly provided that recourse should be had to amicable arbitration,—to which recourse he never once alludes. He knew that, as between Corinth and Athens, war had already begun at Potidæa; and his business, throughout nearly all of a very emphatic speech is, to show that the Peloponnesian confederacy, and especially Sparta, is bound to take instant part in it, not less by prudence than by duty. He employs the most animated language to depict the ambition, the unwearied activity, the personal effort abroad as well as at home, the quick resolves, the sanguine hopes never dashed by failure,—of Athens; as contrasted with the cautious, home-keeping, indolent, scrupulous routine of Sparta. He reproaches the Spartans with their backwardness and timidity, in not having repressed the growth of Athens before she reached this formidable height,—especially in having allowed her to fortify her city after the retreat of Xerxes, and afterwards to build the long walls from the city to the sea.[131] The Spartans, he observes, stood alone among all Greeks, in the notable system of keeping down an enemy not by acting, but delaying to act,—not arresting his growth, but putting him down when his force was doubled. Falsely, indeed, had they acquired the reputation of being sure, when they were in reality merely slow:[132] in resisting Xerxes, as in resisting Athens, they had always been behindhand, disappointing and leaving their friends to ruin,—while both these enemies had only failed of complete success through their own mistakes.

After half apologizing for the tartness of these reproofs,—which, however, as the Spartans were now well-disposed to go to war forthwith, would be well-timed and even agreeable,—the Corinthian orator vindicates the necessity of plain-speaking by the urgent peril of the emergency, and the formidable character of the enemy who threatened them. “You do not reflect (he says) how thoroughly different the Athenians are from yourselves. They are innovators by nature; sharp both in devising, and in executing what they have determined: you are sharp only in keeping what you have got, in determining on nothing beyond, and in doing even less than absolute necessity requires.[133] They again dare beyond their means, run risks beyond their own judgment, and keep alive their hopes even in desperate circumstances: your peculiarity is, that your performance comes short of your power,—you have no faith even in what your judgment guarantees,—when in difficulties, you despair of all escape. They never hang back,—you are habitual laggards: they love foreign service,—you cannot stir from home: for they are always under the belief that their movements will lead to some farther gain, while you fancy that new projects will endanger what you have already. When successful, they make the greatest forward march; when defeated, they fall back the least. Moreover, they task their bodies on behalf of their city as if they were the bodies of others,—while their minds are most of all their own, for exertion in her service.[134] When their plans for acquisition do not come successfully out, they feel like men robbed of what belongs to them: yet the acquisitions when realized appear like trifles compared with what remains to be acquired. If they sometimes fail in an attempt, new hopes arise in some other direction to supply the want: for with them alone the possession and the hope of what they aim at is almost simultaneous, from their habit of quickly executing all that they have once resolved. And in this manner do they toil throughout all their lives amidst hardship and peril, disregarding present enjoyment in the continual thirst for increase,—knowing no other festival recreation except the performance of active duty,—and deeming inactive repose a worse condition than fatiguing occupation. To speak the truth in two words: such is their inborn temper, that they will neither remain at rest themselves, nor allow rest to others.[135]

“Such is the city which stands opposed to you, Lacedæmonians,—yet ye still hang back from action.... Your continual scruples and apathy would hardly be safe, even if ye had neighbors like yourselves in character: but as to dealings with Athens, your system is antiquated and out of date. In politics as in art, it is the modern improvements which are sure to come out victorious: and though unchanged institutions are best, if a city be not called upon to act,—yet multiplicity of active obligations requires multiplicity and novelty of contrivance.[136] It is through these numerous trials that the means of Athens have acquired so much more new development than yours.”

The Corinthians concluded by saying, that if, after so many previous warnings, now repeated for the last time, Sparta still refused to protect her allies against Athens,—if she delayed to perform her promise made to the Potidæans, of immediately invading Attica,—they, the Corinthians, would forthwith look for safety in some new alliance, and they felt themselves fully justified in doing so. They admonished her to look well to the case, and to carry forward Peloponnesus with undiminished dignity as it had been transmitted to her from her predecessors.[137]

Such was the memorable picture of Athens and her citizens, as exhibited by her fiercest enemy, before the public assembly at Sparta. It was calculated to impress the assembly, not by appeal to recent or particular misdeeds, but by the general system of unprincipled and endless aggression which was imputed to Athens during the past,—and by the certainty held out that the same system, unless put down by measures of decisive hostility, would be pushed still farther in future to the utter ruin of Peloponnesus. And to this point did the Athenian envoy—staying in Sparta about some other negotiation, and now present in the assembly—address himself in reply, after having asked and obtained permission from the magistrates. The empire of Athens was now of such standing that the younger men present had no personal knowledge of the circumstances under which it had grown up: and what was needed as information for them would be impressive as a reminder even to their seniors.[138]

He began by disclaiming all intention of defending his native city against the charges of specific wrong or alleged infractions of the existing truce: this was no part of his mission, nor did he recognize Sparta as a competent judge in disputes between Athens and Corinth. But he nevertheless thought it his duty to vindicate Athens against the general character of injustice and aggression imputed to her, as well as to offer a solemn warning to the Spartans against the policy towards which they were obviously tending. He then proceeded to show that the empire of Athens had been honorably earned and amply deserved,—that it had been voluntarily ceded, and even pressed upon her,—and that she could not abdicate it without emperiling her own separate existence and security. Far from thinking that the circumstances under which it was acquired needed apology, he appealed to them with pride as a testimony of the genuine Hellenic patriotism of that city which the Spartan congress now seemed disposed to run down as an enemy.[139] He then dwelt upon the circumstances attending the Persian invasion, setting forth the superior forwardness and the unflinching endurance of Athens, in spite of ungenerous neglect from Sparta and the other Greeks,—the preponderance of her naval force in the entire armament,—the directing genius of her general Themistoklês, complimented even by Sparta herself,—and the title of Athens to rank on that memorable occasion as the principal saviour of Greece. This alone ought to save her empire from reproach: but this was not all,—for that empire had been tendered to her by the pressing instance of the allies, at a time when Sparta had proved herself both incompetent and unwilling to prosecute the war against Persia.[140] By simple exercise of the constraining force inseparable from her presidential obligations, and by the reduction of various allies who revolted, Athens had gradually become unpopular, while Sparta too had become her enemy instead of her friend. To relax her hold upon her allies would have been to make them the allies of Sparta against her; and thus the motive of fear was added to those of ambition and revenue, in inducing Athens to maintain her imperial dominion by force. In her position, no Grecian power either would or could have acted otherwise: no Grecian power, certainly not Sparta, would have acted with so much equity and moderation, or given so little ground of complaint to her subjects. Worse they had suffered, while under Persia; worse they would suffer, if they came under Sparta, who held her own allies under the thraldom of an oligarchical party in each city; and if they hated Athens, this was only because subjects always hated the present dominion, whatever that might be.[141]

Having justified both the origin and the working of the Athenian empire, the envoy concluded by warning Sparta to consider calmly, without being hurried away by the passions and invectives of others, before she took a step from which there was no retreat, and which exposed the future to chances such as no man on either side could foresee. He called on her not to break the truce mutually sworn to, but to adjust all differences, as Athens was prepared to do, by the amicable arbitration which that truce provided. Should she begin war, the Athenians would follow her lead and resist her, calling to witness those gods under whose sanction the oaths were taken.[142]

The facts recounted in the preceding chapters will have shown, that the account given by the Athenian envoy at Sparta, of the origin and character of the empire exercised by his city, though doubtless the account of a partisan, is in substance correct and equitable; the envoys of Athens had not yet learned to take the tone which they assumed in the sixteenth and seventeenth years of the coming war, at Melos and Kamarina. At any time previous to the affair of Korkyra, the topics insisted upon by the Athenian would probably have been profoundly listened to at Sparta. But now the mind of the Spartans was made up. Having cleared the assembly of all “strangers,” and even all allies, they proceeded to discuss and determine the question among themselves. Most of their speakers held but one language,[143]—expatiating on the wrongs already done by Athens, and urging the necessity of instant war. There was, however, one voice, and that a commanding voice, raised against this conclusion: the ancient and respected king Archidamus opposed it.

The speech of Archidamus is that of a deliberate Spartan, who, setting aside both hatred to Athens and blind partiality to allies, looks at the question with a view to the interests and honor of Sparta only,—not, however, omitting her imperial as well as her separate character. The preceding native speakers, indignant against Athens, had probably appealed to Spartan pride, treating it as an intolerable disgrace that almost the entire land-force of Dorian Peloponnesus should be thus bullied by one single Ionic city, and should hesitate to commence a war which one invasion of Attica would probably terminate. As the Corinthians had tried to excite the Spartans by well-timed taunts and reproaches, so the subsequent speakers had aimed at the same objects by panegyric upon the well-known valor and discipline of the city. To all these arguments Archidamus set himself to reply. Invoking the experience of the elders his contemporaries around him, he impressed upon the assembly the grave responsibility, the uncertainties, difficulties, and perils, of the war into which they were hurrying without preparation.[144] He reminded them of the wealth, the population, greater than that of any other Grecian city, the naval force, the cavalry, the hoplites, the large foreign dominion of Athens,—and then asked by what means they proposed to put her down?[145] Ships, they had few; trained seamen, yet fewer; wealth, next to none. They could indeed invade and ravage Attica, by their superior numbers and land-force: but the Athenians had possessions abroad sufficient to enable them to dispense with the produce of Attica, while their great navy would retaliate the like ravages upon Peloponnesus. To suppose that one or two devastating expeditions into Attica would bring the war to an end, would be a deplorable error: such proceedings would merely enrage the Athenians, without impairing their real strength, and the war would thus be prolonged, perhaps, for a whole generation.[146] Before they determined upon war, it was absolutely necessary to provide more efficient means for carrying it on; and to multiply their allies, not merely among the Greeks, but among foreigners also: while this was in process, envoys ought to be sent to Athens to remonstrate and obtain redress for the grievances of the allies. If the Athenians granted this,—which they very probably would do, when they saw the preparations going forward, and when the ruin of the highly-cultivated soil of Attica was held over them in terrorem without being actually consummated,—so much the better: if they refused, in the course of two or three years war might be commenced with some hopes of success. Archidamus reminded his countrymen that their allies would hold them responsible for the good or bad issue of what was now determined;[147] admonishing them, in the true spirit of a conservative Spartan, to cling to that cautious policy which had been ever the characteristic of the state, despising both taunts on their tardiness and panegyric on their valor. “We, Spartans, owe both our bravery and our prudence to our admirable public discipline: it makes us warlike, because the sense of shame is most closely connected with discipline, as valor is with the sense of shame: it makes us prudent, because our training keeps us too ignorant to set ourselves above our own institutions, and holds us under sharp restraint so as not to disobey them.[148] And thus, not being overwise in unprofitable accomplishments, we Spartans are not given to disparage our enemy’s strength in clever speech, and then meet him with short-comings in reality: we think that the capacity of neighboring states is much on a par, and that the chances in reserve for both parties are too uncertain to be discriminated beforehand by speech. We always make real preparations against our enemies, as if they were proceeding wisely on their side: we must count upon security through our own precautions, not upon the chance of their errors. Indeed, there is no great superiority in one man as compared with another: he is the stoutest who is trained in the severest trials. Let us, for our parts, not renounce this discipline, which we have received from our fathers, and which we still continue, to our very great profit: let us not hurry on, in one short hour, a resolution upon which depend so many lives, so much property, so many cities, and our own reputation besides. Let us take time to consider, since our strength puts it fully in our power to do so. Send envoys to the Athenians on the subject of Potidæa, and of the other grievances alleged by our allies,—and that too, the rather as they are ready to give us satisfaction: against one who offers satisfaction, custom forbids you to proceed, without some previous application, as if he were a proclaimed wrong-doer. But, at the same time, make preparation for war; such will be the course of policy at once the best for your own power and the most terror-striking to your enemies.”[149]

The speech of Archidamus was not only in itself full of plain reason and good sense, but delivered altogether from the point of view of a Spartan; appealing greatly to Spartan conservative feeling and even prejudice. But in spite of all this, and in spite of the personal esteem entertained for the speaker, the tide of feeling in the opposite direction was at that moment irresistible. Stheneläidas—one of the five ephors, to whom it fell to put the question for voting—closed the debate; and his few words mark at once the character of the man, the temper of the assembly, and the simplicity of speech, though without the wisdom of judgment, for which Archidamus had taken credit to his countrymen.

“I don’t understand (he said) these long speeches of the Athenians. They have praised themselves abundantly, but they have never rebutted what is laid to their charge,—that they are guilty of wrong against our allies and against Peloponnesus. Now, if in former days they were good men against the Persians, and are now evil-doers against us, they deserve double punishment, as having become evil-doers instead of good.[150] But we are the same now as we were then: we know better than to sit still while our allies are suffering wrong: we shall not adjourn our aid while they cannot adjourn their sufferings.[151] Others have in abundance wealth, ships, and horses,—but we have good allies, whom we are not to abandon to the mercy of the Athenians: nor are we to trust our redress to arbitration and to words, when our wrongs are not confined to words. We must help them speedily and with all our strength. Nor let any one tell us that we can with honor deliberate when we are actually suffering wrong,—it is rather for those who intend to do the wrong, to deliberate well beforehand. Resolve upon war then, Lacedæmonians, in a manner worthy of Sparta: suffer not the Athenians to become greater than they are: let us not betray our allies to ruin, but march, with the aid of the gods, against the wrong-doers.”

With these few words, so well calculated to defeat the prudential admonitions of Archidamus, Stheneläidas put the question for the decision of the assembly,—which, at Sparta, was usually taken neither by show of hands nor by deposit of balls in an urn, but by cries analogous to the Aye or No of the English House of Commons,—the presiding ephor declaring which of the cries predominated. On this occasion the cry for war was manifestly the stronger:[152] yet Stheneläidas affected inability to determine which of the two cries was the louder, in order that he might have an excuse for bringing about a more impressive manifestation of sentiment and a stronger apparent majority,—since a portion of the minority would probably be afraid to show their real opinions as individuals openly. He accordingly directed a division, like the Speaker of the English House of Commons, when his decision in favor of aye or no is questioned by any member: “Such of you as think that the truce has been violated, and that the Athenians are doing us wrong, go to that side; such as think the contrary, to the other side.” The assembly accordingly divided, and the majority was very great on the warlike side of the question.

The first step of the Lacedæmonians, after coming to this important decision was, to send to Delphi and inquire of the oracle whether it would be beneficial to them to undertake the war: the answer brought back (Thucydidês seems hardly certain that it was really given[153]) was,—that if they did their best they would be victorious, and that the god would help them, invoked or uninvoked. They at the same time convened a general congress of their allies at Sparta, for the purpose of submitting their recent resolution to the vote of all.

To the Corinthians, in their anxiety for the relief of Potidæa, the decision of this congress was not less important than that which the Spartans had just taken separately: and they sent round envoys to each of the allies, entreating them to authorize war without reserve. Through such instigations, acting upon the general impulse then prevalent, the congress came together in a temper decidedly warlike: most of the speakers were full of invective against Athens, and impatient for action, while the Corinthians, waiting as before to speak the last, wound up the discussion by a speech well calculated to insure a hearty vote. Their former speech had been directed to shame, exasperate, and alarm the Lacedæmonians: this point had now been carried, and they had to enforce, upon the allies generally, the dishonor as well as the impolicy of receding from a willing leader. The cause was one in which all were interested, the inland states not less than the maritime, for both would find themselves ultimately victims of the encroaching despot city: whatever efforts were necessary for the war, ought cheerfully to be made, since it was only through war that they could arrive at a secure and honorable peace. There were good hopes that this might soon be attained, and that the war would not last long,—so decided was the superiority of the confederacy, in numbers, in military skill, and in the equal heart and obedience of all its members.[154] The naval superiority of Athens depended chiefly upon hired seamen,—and the confederacy, by borrowing from the treasuries of Delphi and Olympia, would soon be able to overbid her, take into pay her best mariners, and equal her equipment at sea: they would excite revolt among her allies, and establish a permanent fortified post for the ruin of Attica. To make up a common fund for this purpose, was indispensably necessary; for Athens was far more than a match for each of them single-handed, and nothing less than hearty union could save them all from successive enslavement,—the very supposition of which was intolerable to Peloponnesian freemen, whose fathers had liberated Greece from the Persian. Let them not shrink from endurance and sacrifice in such a cause,—it was their hereditary pride to purchase success by laborious effort. The Delphian god had promised them his coöperation; and the whole of Greece would sympathize in the cause, either from fear of the despotism of Athens, or from hopes of profit. They would not be the first to break the truce, for the Athenians had already broken it, as the declaration of the Delphian god distinctly implied. Let them lose no time in sending aid to the Potidæans, a Dorian population now besieged by Ionians, as well as to those other Greeks whom Athens had enslaved. Every day the necessity for effort was becoming stronger, and the longer it was delayed, the more painful it would be when it came. “Be ye persuaded then, (concluded the orator), that this city, which has constituted herself despot of Greece, has her position against all of us alike, some for present rule, others for future conquest; let us assail and subdue her, that we may dwell securely ourselves hereafter, and may emancipate those Greeks who are now in slavery.”[155]

If there were any speeches delivered at this congress in opposition to the war, they were not likely to be successful in a cause wherein even Archidamus had failed. After the Corinthian had concluded, the question was put to the deputies of every city, great and small, indiscriminately and the majority decided for war.[156] This important resolution was adopted about the end of 432 B.C., or the beginning of January 431 B.C.: the previous decision of the Spartans separately may have been taken about two months earlier, in the preceding October or November 432 B.C.

Reviewing the conduct of the two great Grecian parties at this momentous juncture, with reference to existing treaties and positive grounds of complaint, it seems clear that Athens was in the right. She had done nothing which could fairly be called a violation of the thirty years’ truce: and for such of her acts as were alleged to be such, she offered to submit them to that amicable arbitration which the truce itself prescribed. The Peloponnesian confederates were manifestly the aggressors in the contest; and if Sparta, usually so backward, now came forward in a spirit so decidedly opposite, we are to ascribe it partly to her standing fear and jealousy of Athens, partly to the pressure of her allies, especially of the Corinthians. Thucydidês, recognizing these two as the grand determining motives, and indicating the alleged infractions of truce as simple occasions or pretexts, seems to consider the fear and hatred of Athens as having contributed more to determine Sparta than the urgency of her allies.[157] That the extraordinary aggrandizement of Athens, during the period immediately succeeding the Persian invasion, was well calculated to excite alarm and jealousy in Peloponnesus, is indisputable: but if we take Athens as she stood in 432 B.C., it deserves notice that she had neither made, nor, so far as we know, tried to make, a single new acquisition during the whole fourteen years which had elapsed since the conclusion of the thirty years’ truce;[158]— and, moreover, that that truce marked an epoch of signal humiliation and reduction of her power. The triumph which Sparta and the Peloponnesians then gained, though not sufficiently complete to remove all fear of Athens, was yet great enough to inspire them with the hope that a second combined effort would subdue her. This mixture of fear and hope was exactly the state of feeling out of which war was likely to grow,—and we see that even before the quarrel between Corinth and Korkyra, sagacious Greeks everywhere anticipated war as not far distant:[159] it was near breaking out even on occasion of the revolt of Samos,[160] and peace was then preserved partly by the commercial and nautical interests of Corinth, partly by the quiescence of Athens. But the quarrel of Corinth and Korkyra, which Sparta might have appeased beforehand had she thought it her interest to do so,—and the junction of Korkyra with Athens,—exhibited the latter as again in a career of aggrandizement, and thus again brought into play the warlike feelings of Sparta; while they converted Corinth from the advocate of peace into a clamorous organ of war. The revolt of Potidæa,—fomented by Corinth, and encouraged by Sparta in the form of a positive promise to invade Attica,—was, in point of fact, the first distinct violation of the truce, and the initiatory measure of the Peloponnesian war: nor did the Spartan meeting, and the subsequent congress of allies at Sparta, serve any other purpose than to provide such formalities as were requisite to insure the concurrent and hearty action of numbers, and to clothe with imposing sanction a state of war already existing in reality, though yet unproclaimed. The sentiment in Peloponnesus at this moment was not the fear of Athens, but the hatred of Athens,—and the confident hope of subduing her. And indeed such confidence was justified by plausible grounds: men might well think that the Athenians would never endure the entire devastation of their highly cultivated soil,—or at least that they would certainly come forth to fight for it in the field, which was all that the Peloponnesians desired. Nothing except the unparalleled ascendency and unshaken resolution of Periklês, induced the Athenians to persevere in a scheme of patient defence, and to trust to that naval superiority which the enemies of Athens, save and except the judicious Archidamus, had not yet learned fully to appreciate. Moreover, the confident hopes of the Peloponnesians were materially strengthened by the wide-spread sympathy in favor of their cause, proclaiming, as it did, the intended liberation of Greece from a despot city.[161]

To Athens, on the other hand, the coming war presented itself in a very different aspect; holding out scarcely any hope of possible gain, and the certainty of prodigious loss and privation,—even granting, that, at this heavy cost, her independence and union at home, and her empire abroad, could be upheld. By Periklês, and by the more long-sighted Athenians, the chance of unavoidable war was foreseen even before the Korkyræan dispute.[162] But Periklês was only the first citizen in a democracy, esteemed, trusted, and listened to, more than any one else by the body of the citizens, but warmly opposed in most of his measures, under the free speech and latitude of individual action which reigned at Athens,—and even bitterly hated by many active political opponents. The formal determination of the Lacedæmonians, to declare war, must of course have been made known at Athens by those Athenian envoys, who had entered an unavailing protest against it in the Spartan assembly. No steps were taken by Sparta to carry this determination into effect until after the congress of allies and their pronounced confirmatory vote. Nor did the Spartans even then send any herald, or make any formal declaration. They despatched various propositions to Athens, not at all with a view of trying to obtain satisfaction, or of providing some escape from the probability of war; but with the contrary purpose,—of multiplying demands, and enlarging the grounds of quarrel.[163] Meanwhile, the deputies retiring home from the congress to their respective cities, carried with them the general resolution for immediate warlike preparations to be made, with as little delay as possible.[164]

The first requisition addressed by the Lacedæmonians to Athens was a political manœuvre aimed at Periklês, their chief opponent in that city. His mother, Agaristê, belonged to the great family of the Alkmæônids, who were supposed to be under an inexpiable hereditary taint, in consequence of the sacrilege committed by their ancestor Megaklês, nearly two centuries before, in the slaughter of the Kylonian suppliants near the altar of the Venerable Goddesses.[165] Ancient as this transaction was, it still had sufficient hold on the mind of the Athenians to serve as the basis of a political manœuvre: about seventy-seven years before, shortly after the expulsion of Hippias from Athens, it had been so employed by the Spartan king Kleomenês, who at that time exacted from the Athenians a clearance of the ancient sacrilege, to be effected by the banishment of Kleisthenês, the founder of the democracy, and his chief partisans. This demand, addressed by Kleomenês to the Athenians, at the instance of Isagoras, the rival of Kleisthenês,[166] had been then obeyed, and had served well the purposes of those who sent it; a similar blow was now aimed by the Lacedæmonians at Periklês, the grand nephew of Kleisthenês, and doubtless at the instance of his political enemies: religion required, it was pretended, that “the abomination of the goddess should be driven out.”[167] If the Athenians complied with this demand, they would deprive themselves, at this critical moment, of their ablest leader; but the Lacedæmonians, not expecting compliance, reckoned at all events upon discrediting Periklês with the people, as being partly the cause of the war through family taint of impiety,[168]—and this impression would doubtless be loudly proclaimed by his political opponents in the assembly.

The influence of Periklês with the Athenian public had become greater and greater as their political experience of him was prolonged. But the bitterness of his enemies appears to have increased along with it; and not long before this period, he had been indirectly assailed, through the medium of accusations against three different persons, all more or less intimate with him,—his mistress Aspasia, the philosopher Anaxagoras, and the sculptor Pheidias. We cannot make out either the exact date, or the exact facts, of either of these accusations. Aspasia, daughter of Axiochus, was a native of Milêtus, beautiful, well educated, and ambitious. She resided at Athens, and is affirmed, though upon very doubtful evidence, to have kept slave-girls to be let out as courtezans; whatever may be the case with this report, which is most probably one of the scandals engendered by political animosity against Periklês,[169] it is certain that so remarkable were her own fascinations, her accomplishments, and her powers, not merely of conversation, but even of oratory and criticism,—that the most distinguished Athenians of all ages and characters, Sokratês among the number, visited her, and several of them took their wives along with them to hear her also. The free citizen women of Athens lived in strict and almost oriental recluseness, as well after being married as when single: everything which concerned their lives, their happiness, or their rights, was determined or managed for them by male relatives: and they seem to have been destitute of all mental culture and accomplishments. Their society presented no charm nor interest, which men accordingly sought for in the company of the class of women called hetæræ, or courtezans, literally female companions; who lived a free life, managed their own affairs, and supported themselves by their powers of pleasing. These women were numerous, and were doubtless of every variety of personal character: but the most distinguished and superior among them, such as Aspasia and Theodotê,[170] appear to have been the only women in Greece, except the Spartan, who either inspired strong passion or exercised mental ascendency.

Periklês had been determined in his choice of a wife by those family considerations which were held almost obligatory at Athens, and had married a woman very nearly related to him, by whom he had two sons, Xanthippus and Paralus. But the marriage, having never been comfortable, was afterwards dissolved by mutual consent, according to that full liberty of divorce which the Attic law permitted; and Periklês concurred with his wife’s male relations, who formed her legal guardians, in giving her a way to another husband.[171] He then took Aspasia to live with him, had a son by her, who bore his name, and continued ever afterwards on terms of the greatest intimacy and affection with her. Without adopting those exaggerations which represent Aspasia as having communicated to Periklês his distinguished eloquence, or even as having herself composed orations for public delivery, we may well believe her to have been qualified to take interest and share in that literary and philosophical society which frequented the house of Periklês, and which his unprincipled son Xanthippus,—disgusted with his father’s regular expenditure, as withholding from him the means of supporting an extravagant establishment,—reported abroad with exaggerating calumnies and turned into derision. It was from that worthless young man, who died of the Athenian epidemic during the lifetime of Periklês, that his political enemies and the comic writers of the day were mainly furnished with scandalous anecdotes to assail the private habits of this distinguished man.[172] The comic writers attacked him for alleged intrigues with different women, but the name of Aspasia they treated as public property, without any mercy or reserve: she was the Omphalê, the Deianeira, or the Hêrê, to this great Hêraklês or Zeus of Athens. At length one of these comic writers, Hermippus, not contented with scenic attacks, indicted her before the dikastery for impiety, as participant in the philosophical discussions held, and the opinions professed, in the society of Periklês, by Anaxagoras and others. Against Anaxagoras himself, too, a similar indictment is said to have been preferred, either by Kleon or by Thucydidês, son of Melêsias, under a general resolution recently passed in the public assembly, at the instance of Diopeithês. And such was the sensitive antipathy of the Athenian public, shown afterwards fatally in the case of Sokratês, and embittered in this instance by all the artifices of political faction, against philosophers whose opinions conflicted with the received religious dogmas, that Periklês did not dare to place Anaxagoras on his trial: the latter retired from Athens, and the sentence of banishment was passed against him in his absence.[173] But he himself defended Aspasia before the diakastery: in fact, the indictment was as much against him as against her: one thing alleged against her, and also against Pheidias, was, the reception of free women to facilitate the intrigues of Periklês. He defended her successfully, and procured a verdict of acquittal: but we are not surprised to hear that his speech was marked by the strongest personal emotions, and even by tears.[174] The dikasts were accustomed to such appeals to their sympathies, sometimes even to extravagant excess, from ordinary accused persons: but in Periklês, so manifest an outburst of emotion stands out as something quite unparalleled: for constant self-mastery was one of the most prominent features in his character.[175] And we shall find him near the close of his political life, when he had become for the moment unpopular with the Athenian people, distracted as they were at the moment with the terrible sufferings of the pestilence,—bearing up against their unmerited anger not merely with dignity, but with a pride of conscious innocence and desert which rises almost into defiance; insomuch that the rhetor Dionysius, who criticizes the speech of Periklês as if it were simply the composition of Thucydidês, censures that historian for having violated dramatic propriety by a display of insolence where humility would have been becoming.[176]

It appears, also, as far as we can judge amidst very imperfect data, that the trial of the great sculptor Pheidias, for alleged embezzlement in the contract for his celebrated gold and ivory statue of Athênê,[177] took place nearly at this period. That statue had been finished and dedicated in the Parthenon in 437 B.C., since which period Pheidias had been engaged at Olympia, in his last and great masterpiece, the colossal statue of the Olympian Zeus. On his return to Athens from the execution of this work, about 433 or 432 B.C., the accusation of embezzlement was instituted against him by the political enemies of Periklês.[178] A slave of Pheidias, named Menon, planted himself as a suppliant at the altar, professing to be cognizant of certain facts which proved that his master had committed peculation. Motion was made to receive his depositions, and to insure to his person the protection of the people; upon which he revealed various statements impeaching the pecuniary probity of Pheidias, and the latter was put in prison, awaiting the day for his trial before the dikastery. The gold employed and charged for in the statue, however, was all capable of being taken off and weighed, so as to verify its accuracy, which Periklês dared the accusers to do. Besides the charge of embezzlement, there were other circumstances which rendered Pheidias unpopular: it had been discovered that, in the reliefs on the friese of the Parthenon, he had introduced the portraits both of himself and of Periklês in conspicuous positions. It seems that Pheidias died in prison before the day of trial; and some even said, that he had been poisoned by the enemies of Periklês, in order that the suspicions against the latter, who was the real object of attack, might be aggravated. It is said also that Drakontidês proposed and carried a decree in the public assembly, that Periklês should be called on to give an account of the money which he had expended, and that the dikasts, before whom the account was rendered, should give their suffrage in the most solemn manner from the altar: this latter provision was modified by Agnon, who, while proposing that the dikasts should be fifteen hundred in number, retained the vote by pebbles in the urn according to ordinary custom.[179]

If Periklês was ever tried on such a charge, there can be no doubt that he was honorably acquitted: for the language of Thucydidês respecting his pecuniary probity is such as could never have been employed if a verdict of guilty on a charge of peculation had ever been publicly pronounced. But we cannot be certain that he ever was tried: indeed, another accusation urged by his enemies, and even by Aristophanês, in the sixth year of the Peloponnesian war, implies that no trial took place: for it was alleged that Periklês, in order to escape this danger, “blew up the Peloponnesian war,” and involved his country in such confusion and peril as made his own aid and guidance indispensably necessary to her: especially that he passed the decree against the Megarians by which the war was really brought on.[180] We know enough, however, to be certain that such a supposition is altogether inadmissible. The enemies of Periklês were far too eager, and too expert in Athenian political warfare, to have let him escape by such a stratagem: moreover, we learn from the assurance of Thucydidês, that the war depended upon far deeper causes,—that the Megarian decree was in no way the real cause of it,—that it was not Periklês, but the Peloponnesians, who brought it on, by the blow struck at Potidæa.

All that we can make out, amidst these uncertified allegations, is, that in the year or two immediately preceding the Peloponnesian war, Periklês was hard pressed by the accusations of political enemies,—perhaps even in his own person, but certainly in the persons of those who were most in his confidence and affection.[181] And it was in this turn of his political position that the Lacedæmonians sent to Athens the above-mentioned requisition, that the ancient Kylonian sacrilege might be at length cleared out; in other words, that Periklês and his family might be banished. Doubtless, his enemies, as well as the partisans of Lacedæmon at Athens, would strenuously support this proposition: and the party of Lacedæmon at Athens was always strong, even during the middle of the war: to act as proxenus to the Lacedæmonians was accounted an honor even by the greatest Athenian families.[182] On this occasion, however, the manœuvre did not succeed, nor did the Athenians listen to the requisition for banishing the sacrilegious Alkmæônids. On the contrary, they replied that the Spartans, too, had an account of sacrilege to clear off; for they had violated the sanctuary of Poseidon, at Cape Tænarus, in dragging from it some helot suppliants to be put to death,—and the sanctuary of Athênê Chalkiœkus at Sparta, in blocking up and starving to death the guilty regent Pausanias. To require that Laconia might be cleared of these two acts of sacrilege, was the only answer which the Athenians made to the demand sent for the banishment of Periklês.[183] Probably, the actual effect of that demand was, to strengthen him in the public esteem:[184] very different from the effect of the same manœuvre when practised before by Kleomenês against Kleisthenês.

Other Spartan envoys shortly afterwards arrived, with fresh demands. The Athenians were now required: 1. To withdraw their troops from Potidæa. 2. To replace Ægina in its autonomy. 3. To repeal the decree of exclusion against the Megarians. It was upon the latter that the greatest stress was laid; an intimation being held out that war might be avoided if such repeal were granted. We see plainly, from this proceeding, that the Lacedæmonians acted in concert with the anti-Periklêan leaders at Athens. To Sparta and her confederacy the decree against the Megarians was of less importance than the rescue of the Corinthian troops now blocked up in Potidæa: but on the other hand, the party opposed to Periklês would have much better chance of getting a vote of the assembly against him on the subject of the Megarians: and this advantage, if gained, would serve to enfeeble his influence generally. No concession was obtained, however, on either of the three points: even in respect to Megara, the decree of exclusion was vindicated and upheld against all the force of opposition. At length the Lacedæmonians—who had already resolved upon war, and had sent these envoys in mere compliance with the exigencies of ordinary practice, not with any idea of bringing about an accommodation—sent a third batch of envoys with a proposition, which at least had the merit of disclosing their real purpose without disguise. Rhamphias and two other Spartans announced to the Athenians the simple injunction: “The Lacedæmonians wish the peace to stand; and it may stand, if you will leave the Greeks autonomous.” Upon this demand, so very different from the preceding, the Athenians resolved to hold a fresh assembly on the subject of war or peace, to open the whole question anew for discussion, and to determine, once for all, on a peremptory answer.[185]

The last demands presented on the part of Sparta, which went to nothing less than the entire extinction of the Athenian empire,—combined with the character, alike wavering and insincere, of the demands previously made, and with the knowledge that the Spartan confederacy had pronounced peremptorily in favor of war,—seemed likely to produce unanimity at Athens, and to bring together this important assembly under the universal conviction that war was inevitable. Such, however, was not the fact. The reluctance to go to war was sincere amidst the large majority of the assembly; while among a considerable portion of them it was so preponderant, that they even now reverted to the opening which the Lacedæmonians had before held out about the anti-Megarian decree, as if that were the chief cause of war. There was much difference of opinion among the speakers, several of whom insisted upon the repeal of this decree, treating it as a matter far too insignificant to go to war about, and denouncing the obstinacy of Periklês for refusing to concede such a trifle.[186] Against this opinion Periklês entered his protest, in an harangue decisive and encouraging, which Dionysius of Halikarnassus ranks among the best speeches in Thucydidês: the latter historian may probably himself have heard the original speech.

“I continue, Athenians, to adhere to the same conviction, that we must not yield to the Peloponnesians,—though I know that men are in one mood when they sanction the resolution to go to war, and in another when actually in the contest,—their judgments then depending upon the turn of events. I have only to repeat now what I have said on former occasions,—and I adjure you who follow my views to adhere to what we jointly resolve, though the result should be partially unfavorable: or else, not to take credit for wisdom in the event of success.[187] For it is very possible that the contingencies of events may depart more from all reasonable track than the counsels of man: such are the unexpected turns which we familiarly impute to fortune. The Lacedæmonians have before now manifested their hostile aims against us, but on this last occasion more than ever. While the truce prescribes that we are to give and receive amicable satisfaction for our differences, and each to retain what we possess,—they not only have not asked for such satisfaction, but will not receive it when tendered by us: they choose to settle complaints by war and not by discussion: they have got beyond the tone of complaint, and are here already with that of command. For they enjoin us to withdraw from Potidæa, to leave Ægina free, and to rescind the decree against the Megarians: nay, these last envoys are even come to proclaim to us, that we must leave all the Greeks free. Now let none of you believe, that we shall be going to war about a trifle, if we refuse to rescind the Megarian decree,—which they chiefly put forward, as if its repeal would avert the war,—let none of you take blame to yourselves as if we had gone to war about a small matter. For this small matter contains in itself the whole test and trial of your mettle: if ye yield it, ye will presently have some other greater exaction put upon you, like men who have already truckled on one point from fear: whereas if ye hold out stoutly, ye will make it clear to them that they must deal with you more upon a footing of equality.”[188]

Periklês then examined the relative strength of parties and the chances of war. The Peloponnesians were a self-working population, with few slaves, and without wealth, either private or public; they had no means of carrying on distant or long-continued war: they were ready to expose their persons, but not at all ready to contribute from their very narrow means:[189] in a border-war, or a single land battle, they were invincible, but for systematic warfare against a power like Athens, they had neither competent headship, nor habits of concert and punctuality, nor money to profit by opportunities, always rare and accidental, for successful attack. They might, perhaps, establish a fortified post in Attica, but it would do little serious mischief; while at sea, their inferiority and helplessness would be complete, and the irresistible Athenian navy would take care to keep it so. Nor would they be able to reckon on tempting away the able foreign seamen from Athenian ships by means of funds borrowed from Olympia or Delphi:[190] for besides that the mariners of the dependent islands would find themselves losers even by accepting a higher pay, with the certainty of Athenian vengeance afterwards,—Athens herself would suffice to man her fleet in case of need, with her own citizens and metics: she had within her own walls steersmen and mariners better as well as more numerous than all Greece besides. There was but one side on which Athens was vulnerable: Attica unfortunately was not an island,—it was exposed to invasion and ravage. To this the Athenians must submit, without committing the imprudence of engaging a land battle to avert it: they had abundant lands out of Attica, insular as well as continental, to supply their wants, and they could in their turn, by means of their navy, ravage the Peloponnesian territories, whose inhabitants had no subsidiary lands to recur to.[191]

“Mourn not for the loss of land and houses (continued the orator): reserve your mourning for men: houses and land acquire not men, but men acquire them.[192] Nay, if I thought I could prevail upon you, I would exhort you to march out and ravage them yourselves, and thus show to the Peloponnesians that, for them at least, ye will not truckle. And I could exhibit many further grounds for confidently anticipating success, if ye will only be willing not to aim at increased dominion when we are in the midst of war, and not to take upon yourselves new self-imposed risks; for I have ever been more afraid of our own blunders than of the plans of our enemy.[193] But these are matters for future discussion, when we come to actual operations: for the present let us dismiss these envoys with the answer: That we will permit the Megarians to use our markets and harbors, if the Lacedæmonians on their side will discontinue their (xenêlasy or) summary expulsions of ourselves and our allies from their own territory,—for there is nothing in the truce to prevent either one or the other: that we will leave the Grecian cities autonomous, if we had them as autonomous at the time when the truce was made,—and as soon as the Lacedæmonians shall grant to their allied cities autonomy such as each of them shall freely choose, not such as is convenient to Sparta: that while we are ready to give satisfaction according to the truce, we will not begin war, but will repel those who do begin it. Such is the reply at once just and suitable to the dignity of this city. We ought to make up our minds that war is inevitable: the more cheerfully we accept it, the less vehement shall we find our enemies in their attack: and where the danger is greatest, there also is the final honor greatest, both for a state and for a private citizen. Assuredly our fathers, when they bore up against the Persians,—having no such means as we possess to start from, and even compelled to abandon all that they did possess,—both repelled the invader and brought matters forward to our actual pitch, more by advised operation than by good fortune, and by a daring courage greater than their real power. We ought not to fall short of them: we must keep off our enemies in every way, and leave an unimpaired power to our successors.”[194]

These animating encouragements of Periklês carried with them the majority of the assembly, so that answer was made to the envoys, such as he recommended, on each of the particular points in debate. It was announced to them, moreover, on the general question of peace or war, that the Athenians were prepared to discuss all the grounds of complaint against them, pursuant to the truce, by equal and amicable arbitration,—but that they would do nothing under authoritative demand.[195] With this answer the envoys returned to Sparta, and an end was put to negotiation.

It seems evident, from the account of Thucydidês, that the Athenian public was not brought to this resolution without much reluctance, and great fear of the consequences, especially destruction of property in Attica: and that a considerable minority took opposition on the Megarian decree,—the ground skilfully laid by Sparta for breaking the unanimity of her enemy, and strengthening the party opposed to Periklês. But we may also decidedly infer from the same historian,—especially from the proceedings of Corinth and Sparta, as he sets them forth,—that Athens could not have avoided the war without such an abnegation, both of dignity and power as no nation under any government will ever submit to, and as would have even left her without decent security for her individual rights. To accept the war tendered to her, was a matter not merely of prudence but of necessity: the tone of exaction assumed by the Spartan envoys would have rendered concession a mere evidence of weakness and fear. As the account of Thucydidês bears out the judgment of Periklês on this important point,[196] so it also shows us that Athens was not less in the right upon the received principles of international dealing. It was not Athens, as the Spartans[197] themselves afterwards came to feel, but her enemies, who broke the provisions of the truce, by encouraging the revolt of Potidæa, and by promising invasion of Attica: it was not Athens, but her enemies, who, after thus breaking the truce, made a string of exorbitant demands, in order to get up as good a case as possible for war.[198] The case made out by Periklês, justifying the war on grounds both of right and prudence, is in all its main points borne out by the impartial voice of Thucydidês. And though it is perfectly true, that the ambition of Athens had been great, and the increase of her power marvellous, during the thirty-five years between the repulse of Xerxes and the thirty years’ truce,—it is not less true that by that truce she lost very largely, and that she acquired nothing to compensate such loss during the fourteen years between the truce and the Korkyræan alliance. The policy of Periklês had not been one of foreign aggrandizement, or of increasing vexation and encroachment towards other Grecian powers: even the Korkyræan alliance was noway courted by him, and was in truth accepted with paramount regard to the obligations of the existing truce: while the circumstances out of which that alliance grew, testify a more forward ambition on the part of Corinth than on that of Athens, to appropriate to herself the Korkyræan naval force. It is common to ascribe the Peloponnesian war to the ambition of Athens, but this is a partial view of the case. The aggressive sentiment, partly fear, partly hatred, was on the side of the Peloponnesians, who were not ignorant that Athens desired the continuance of peace, but were resolved not to let her stand as she was at the conclusion of the thirty years’ truce; it was their purpose to attack her and break down her empire, as dangerous, wrongful, and anti-Hellenic. The war was thus partly a contest of principle, involving the popular proclamation of the right of every Grecian state to autonomy, against Athens: partly a contest of power, wherein Spartan and Corinthian ambition was not less conspicuous, and far more aggressive in the beginning, than Athenian.

Conformably to what is here said, the first blow of the war was struck, not by Athens, but against her. After the decisive answer given to the Spartan envoys, taken in conjunction with the previous proceedings, and the preparations actually going on among the Peloponnesian confederacy,—the truce could hardly be said to be still in force, though there was no formal proclamation of rupture. A few weeks passed in restricted and mistrustful intercourse;[199] though individuals who passed the borders did not think it necessary to take a herald with them, as in time of actual war. Had the excess of ambition been on the side of Athens compared with her enemies, this was the time for her to strike the first blow, carrying with it of course great probability of success, before their preparations were completed. But she remained strictly within the limits of the truce, and the disastrous series of mutual aggressions, destined to tear in pieces the entrails of Hellas, was opened by her enemy and her neighbor.

The little town of Platæa, still hallowed by the memorable victory over the Persians, as well as by the tutelary consecration received from Pausanias, was the scene of this unforeseen enterprise. It stood in Bœotia, immediately north of Kithæron; on the borders of Attica on one side, and of the Theban territory on the other, from which it was separated by the river Asôpus: the distance between Platæa and Thebes being about seventy stadia, or a little more than eight miles. Though Bœotian by descent, the Platæans were completely separated from the Bœotian league, and in hearty alliance, as well as qualified communion of civil rights, with the Athenians, who had protected them against the bitter enmity of Thebes, for a period of time now nearly three generations. But in spite of this long prescription, the Thebans, as chiefs of the Bœotian league, still felt themselves wronged by the separation of Platæa: and an oligarchical faction of wealthy Platæans espoused their cause,[200] with a view of subverting the democratical government of the town, of destroying its leaders, their political rivals, and of establishing an oligarchy with themselves as the chiefs. Naukleidês, and others of this faction, entered into a secret conspiracy with Eurymachus and the oligarchy of Thebes: to both it appeared a tempting prize, since war was close at hand, to take advantage of this ambiguous interval, before watches had been placed, and the precautions of a state of war commenced, and to surprise the town of Platæa in the night: moreover, a period of religious festival was chosen, in order that the population might be most completely off their guard.[201] Accordingly, on a rainy night towards the close of March 431 B.C.,[202] a body of rather more than three hundred Theban hoplites, commanded by two of the Bœotarchs, Pythangelus, and Diemporus, and including Eurymachus in the ranks, presented themselves at the gate of Platæa during the first sleep of the citizens: Naukleidês and his partisans opened the gate and conducted them to the agora, which they reached and occupied in military order without the least resistance. The best part of the Theban military force was intended to arrive at Platæa by break of day, in order to support them.[203]

Naukleidês and his friends, following the instincts of political antipathy, were eager to conduct the Thebans to the houses of their opponents, the democratical leaders, in order that the latter might be seized or despatched. But to this the Thebans would not consent: believing themselves now masters of the town, and certain of a large reinforcement at daylight, they thought they could overawe the citizens into an apparently willing acquiescence in their terms, without any actual violence: they wished, moreover, rather to soften and justify, than to aggravate, the gross public wrong already committed. Accordingly their herald was directed to invite, by public proclamation, all Platæans who were willing to return to their ancient sympathies of race, and to the Bœotian confederacy, that they should come forth and take station as brethren in the armed ranks of the Thebans. And the Platæans, suddenly roused from sleep by the astounding news that their great enemy was master of the town, supposed amidst the darkness that the number of assailants was far greater than the reality: so that in spite of their strong attachment to Athens, they thought their case hopeless, and began to open negotiations. But as they soon found out, in spite of the darkness, as the discussion proceeded, that the real numbers of the Thebans were not greater than could be dealt with,—they speedily took courage and determined to attack them; establishing communication with each other by breaking through the walls of their private houses, in order that they might not be detected in moving about in the streets or ways,[204]—and forming barricades with wagons across such of these ways as were suitable. A little before daybreak, when their preparations were fully completed, they sallied forth from their houses to the attack, and immediately came to close quarters with the Thebans. The latter, still fancying themselves masters of the town, and relying upon a satisfactory close to the discussions when daylight should arrive, now found themselves surprised in their turn, and under great disadvantages: for they had been out all night under a heavy rain,—they were in a town which they did not know, with narrow, crooked, and muddy ways, such as they would have had difficulty in finding even by daylight. Nevertheless, on finding themselves suddenly assailed, they got as well as they could into close order, and repelled the Platæans two or three times: but the attack was still repeated, with loud shouts, while the women also screamed, and howled, and threw tiles from the flat-roofed houses, until at length the Thebans became dismayed and broken. But flight was not less difficult than resistance; for they could not find their way out of the city, and even the gate by which they entered, the only one open, had been closed by a Platæan citizen, who thrust into it the point of a javelin in place of the peg whereby the bar was commonly held fast. Dispersed about the city, and pursued by men who knew every inch of the ground, some ran to the top of the wall, and jumped down on the outside, most of them perished in the attempt,—a few others escaped through an unguarded gate, by cutting through the bar with a hatchet which a woman gave to them,—while the greater number of them ran into the open doors of a large barn or building in conjunction with the wall, mistaking these doors for an approach to the town-gate. They were here blocked up without the chance of escape, and the Platæans at first thought of setting fire to the building: but at length a convention was concluded, whereby they, as well as all the other Thebans in the city, agreed to surrender at discretion.[205]

Had the reinforcements from Thebes arrived at the expected hour, this disaster would have been averted. But the heavy rain and dark night retarded their whole march, while the river Asôpus was so much swollen as to be with difficulty fordable: so that before they reached the gates of Platæa, their comrades within were either slain or captured. Which fate had befallen them, the Thebans without could not tell: but they immediately resolved to seize what they could find, persons as well as property, in the Platæan territory,—no precautions having been taken as yet to guard against the perils of war by keeping within the walls,—in order that they might have something to exchange for such Thebans as were prisoners. Before this step could be executed, however, a herald came forth from the town to remonstrate with them upon their unholy proceeding in having so flagrantly violated the truce, and especially to warn them not to do any wrong without the walls. If they retired without inflicting farther mischief, their prisoners within should be given up to them; if otherwise, these prisoners would be slain immediately. A convention having been concluded and sworn to on this basis, the Thebans retired without any active measures. Such at least was the Theban account of what preceded their retirement: but the Platæans gave a very different statement; denying that they had made any categorical promise or sworn any oath,—and affirming that they had engaged for nothing, except to suspend any decisive step with regard to the prisoners until discussion had been entered into to see if a satisfactory agreement could be concluded.

As Thucydidês records both of these statements, without intimating to which of the two he himself gave the preference, we may presume that both of them found credence with respectable persons. The Theban story is undoubtedly the most probable: but the Platæans appear to have violated the understanding, even upon their own construction of it. For no sooner had the Thebans retired, than they (the Platæans) hastily brought in their citizens and the best of their movable property within the walls, and then slew all their prisoners forthwith; without even entering into the formalities of negotiation. The prisoners thus put to death, among whom was Eurymachus himself, were one hundred and eighty in number.[206]

On the first entrance of the Theban assailants at night, a messenger had started from Platæa to carry the news to Athens: a second messenger followed him to report the victory and capture of the prisoners, as soon as it had been achieved. The Athenians sent back a herald without delay, enjoining the Platæans to take no step respecting the prisoners until consultation should be had with Athens. Periklês doubtless feared what turned out to be the fact: for the prisoners had been slain before his messenger could arrive. Apart from the terms of the convention, and looking only to the received practice of ancient warfare, their destruction could not be denounced as unusually cruel, though the Thebans, when fortune was in their favor, chose to designate it as such,[207]—but impartial contemporaries would notice, and the Athenians in particular would deeply lament, the glaring impolicy of the act. For Thebes, the best thing of all would of course be to get back her captured citizens forthwith: but next to that, the least evil would be to hear that they had been put to death. In the hands of the Athenians and Platæans, they would have been the means of obtaining from her much more valuable sacrifices than their lives, considered as a portion of Theban power, were worth: so strong was the feeling of sympathy for imprisoned citizens, several of them men of rank and importance,—as may be seen by the past conduct of Athens after the battle of Korôneia, and by that of Sparta, hereafter to be recounted, after the taking of Sphakteria. The Platæans, obeying the simple instinct of wrath and vengeance, threw away this great political advantage, which the more long-sighted Periklês would gladly have turned to account.

At the time when the Athenians sent their herald to Platæa, they also issued orders for seizing all Bœotians who might be found in Attica; while they lost no time in sending forces to provision Platæa, and placing it on the footing of a garrison town, removing to Athens the old men and sick, with the women and children. No complaint or discussion, respecting the recent surprise, was thought of by either party: it was evident to both that the war was now actually begun,—that nothing was to be thought of except the means of carrying it on,—and that there could be no farther personal intercourse except under the protection of heralds.[208] The incident at Platæa, striking in all its points, wound up both parties to the full pitch of warlike excitement. A spirit of resolution and enterprise was abroad everywhere, especially among those younger citizens, yet unacquainted with the actual bitterness of war, whom the long truce but just broken had raised up; and the contagion of high-strung feeling spread from the leading combatants into every corner of Greece, manifesting itself partly in multiplied oracles, prophecies, and religious legends adapted to the moment:[209] a recent earthquake at Delos, too, as well as various other extraordinary physical phenomena, were construed as prognostics of the awful struggle impending,—a period fatally marked not less by eclipses, earthquakes, drought, famine, and pestilence, than by the direct calamities of war.[210]

An aggression so unwarrantable as the assault on Platæa tended doubtless to strengthen the unanimity of the Athenian assembly, to silence the opponents of Periklês, and to lend additional weight to those frequent exhortations,[211] whereby the great statesman was wont to sustain the courage of his countrymen. Intelligence was sent round to forewarn and hearten up the numerous allies of Athens, tributary as well as free: the latter, with the exception of the Thessalians, Akarnanians, and Messenians at Naupaktus, were all insular,—Chians, Lesbians, Korkyræans, and Zakynthians: to the island of Kephallênia also they sent envoys, but it was not actually acquired to their alliance until a few months afterwards.[212] With the Akarnanians, too, their connection had only been commenced a short time before, seemingly during the preceding summer, arising out of the circumstances of the town of Argos in Amphilochia. That town, situated on the southern coast of the Ambrakian gulf, was originally occupied by a portion of the Amphilochi, a non-Hellenic tribe, whose lineage apparently was something intermediate between Akarnanians and Epirots. Some colonists from Ambrakia, having been admitted as co-residents with the Amphilochian inhabitants of this town, presently expelled them, and retained the town with its territory exclusively for themselves. The expelled inhabitants, fraternizing with their fellow tribes around as well as with the Akarnanians, looked out for the means of restoration; and in order to obtain it, invited the assistance of Athens. Accordingly, the Athenians sent an expedition of thirty triremes, under Phormio, who, joining the Amphilochians and Akarnanians, attacked and carried Argos, reduced the Ambrakiots to slavery, and restored the town to the Amphilochians and Akarnanians. It was on this occasion that the alliance of the Akarnanians with Athens was first concluded, and that their personal attachment to the Athenian admiral, Phormio, commenced.[213]

The numerous subjects of Athens, whose contributions stood embodied in the annual tribute, were distributed all over and around the Ægean, including all the islands north of Krete, with the exception of Melos and Thera.[214] Moreover, the elements of force collected in Athens itself, were fully worthy of the metropolis of so great an empire. Periklês could make a report to his countrymen of three hundred triremes fit for active service; twelve hundred horsemen and horse-bowmen; sixteen hundred bowmen; and the great force of all, not less than twenty-nine thousand hoplites,—mostly citizens, but in part also metics. The chosen portion of these hoplites, both as to age and as to equipment, were thirteen thousand in number; while the remaining sixteen thousand, including the elder and younger citizens and the metics, did garrison-duty on the walls of Athens and Peiræus,—on the long line of wall which connected Athens both with Peiræus and Phalêrum,—and in the various fortified posts both in and out of Attica. In addition to these large military and naval forces, the city possessed in the acropolis, an accumulated treasure of coined silver amounting to not less than six thousand talents, or about one million four hundred thousand pounds, derived from annual laying by of tribute from the allies and perhaps of other revenues besides: the treasure had at one time been as large as nine thousand seven hundred talents, or about two million two hundred and thirty thousand pounds, but the cost of the recent religious and architectural decorations at Athens, as well as at the siege of Potidæa, had reduced it to six thousand. Moreover, the acropolis and the temples throughout the city were rich in votive offerings, deposits, sacred plate, and silver implements for the processions and festivals, etc., to an amount estimated at more than five hundred talents; while the great statue of the goddess recently set up by Pheidias in the Parthenon, composed of ivory and gold, included a quantity of the latter metal not less than forty talents in weight,—equal in value to more than four hundred talents of silver,—and all of it go arranged that it could be taken off from the statue at pleasure. In alluding to these sacred valuables among the resources of the state, Periklês spoke of them only as open to be so applied in case of need, with the firm resolution of replacing them during the first season of prosperity, just as the Corinthians had proposed to borrow from Delphi and Olympia. Besides the hoard thus actually in hand, there came in a large annual revenue, amounting, under the single head of tribute from the subject allies, to six hundred talents, equal to about one hundred and thirty-eight thousand pounds; besides all other items,[215] making up a general total of at least one thousand talents, or about two hundred and thirty thousand pounds.

To this formidable catalogue of means for war were to be added other items not less important, but which did not admit of being weighed and numbered; the unrivalled maritime skill and discipline of the seamen,—the democratical sentiment, alike fervent and unanimous, of the general mass of citizens,—and the superior development of directing intelligence. And when we consider that the enemy had indeed on his side an irresistible land-force, but scarcely anything else,—few ships, no trained seamen, no funds, no powers of combination or headship,—we may be satisfied that there were ample materials for an orator like Periklês to draw an encouraging picture of the future. He could depict Athens as holding Peloponnesus under siege by means of her navy and a chain of insular posts;[216] and he could guarantee success[217] as the sure reward of persevering, orderly, and well-considered exertion, combined with firm endurance under a period of temporary but unavoidable suffering; and combined too with another condition hardly less difficult for Athenian temper to comply with,—abstinence from seductive speculations of distant enterprise, while their force was required by the necessities of war near home.[218] But such prospects were founded upon a long-sighted calculation, looking beyond immediate loss, and therefore likely to take less hold of the mind of an ordinary citizen,—or at any rate, to be overwhelmed for the moment by the pressure of actual hardship. Moreover, the best which Periklês could promise was a successful resistance,—the unimpaired maintenance of that great empire to which Athens had become accustomed; a policy purely conservative, without any stimulus from the hope of positive acquisition,—and not only without the sympathy of other states, but with feelings of simple acquiescence on the part of most of her allies,—of strong hostility everywhere else.

On all these latter points the position of the Peloponnesian alliance was far more encouraging. So powerful a body of confederates had never been got together,—not even to resist Xerxes. Not only the entire strength of Peloponnesus—except Argeians and Achæans, both of whom were neutral at first, though the Achæan town of Pellênê joined even at the beginning, and all the rest subsequently—was brought together, but also the Megarians, Bœotians, Phocians, Opuntian Lokrians, Ambrakiots, Leukadians, and Anaktorians. Among these, Corinth, Megara, Sikyon, Pellênê, Elis, Ambrakia, and Leukas, furnished maritime force, while the Bœotians, Phocians, and Lokrians supplied cavalry. Many of these cities, however, supplied hoplites besides; but the remainder of the confederates furnished hoplites only. It was upon this latter force, not omitting the powerful Bœotian cavalry, that the main reliance was placed; especially for the first and most important operation of the war,—the devastation of Attica. Bound together by the strongest common feeling of active antipathy to Athens, the whole confederacy was full of hope and confidence for this immediate forward march,—so gratifying at once both to their hatred and to their love of plunder, by the hand of destruction laid upon the richest country in Greece,—and presenting a chance even of terminating the war at once, if the pride of the Athenians should be so intolerably stung as to provoke them to come out and fight. Certainty of immediate success, at the first outset, a common purpose to be accomplished and a common enemy to be put down, and favorable sympathies throughout Greece,—all these circumstances filled the Peloponnesians with sanguine hopes at the beginning of the war: and the general persuasion was, that Athens, even if not reduced to submission by the first invasion, could not possibly hold out more than two or three summers against the repetition of this destructive process.[219] Strongly did this confidence contrast with the proud and resolute submission to necessity, not without desponding anticipations of the result, which reigned among the auditors of Periklês.[220]

But though the Peloponnesians entertained confident belief of carrying their point by simple land-campaign, they did not neglect auxiliary preparations for naval and prolonged war. The Lacedæmonians resolved to make up the naval force already existing among themselves and their allies to an aggregate of five hundred triremes; chiefly by the aid of the friendly Dorian cities on the Italian and Sicilian coast. Upon each of them a specific contribution was imposed, together with a given contingent; orders being transmitted to them to make such preparations silently without any immediate declaration of hostility against Athens, and even without refusing for the present to admit any single Athenian ship into their harbors.[221] Besides this, the Lacedæmonians laid their schemes for sending envoys to the Persian king, and to other barbaric powers,—a remarkable evidence of melancholy revolution in Grecian affairs, when that potentate, whom the common arm of Greece had so hardly repulsed a few years before, was now invoked to bring the Phenician fleet again into the Ægean for the purpose of crushing Athens.

The invasion of Attica, however, without delay, was the primary object to be accomplished; and for that the Lacedæmonians issued circular orders immediately after the attempted surprise at Platæa. Though the vote of the allies was requisite to sanction any war, yet when that vote had once been passed, the Lacedæmonians took upon themselves to direct all the measures of execution. Two-thirds of the hoplites of each confederate city,—apparently two-thirds of a certain assumed rating, for which the city was held liable in the books of the confederacy, so that the Bœotians and others who furnished cavalry were not constrained to send two-thirds of their entire force of hoplites,—were summoned to be present on a certain day at the isthmus of Corinth, with provisions and equipment for an expedition of some length.[222] On the day named, the entire force was found duly assembled, and the Spartan king Archidamus, on taking the command, addressed to the commanders and principal officers from each city a discourse of solemn warning as well as encouragement. His remarks were directed chiefly to abate the tone of sanguine over-confidence which reigned in the army. After adverting to the magnitude of the occasion, the mighty impulse agitating all Greece, and the general good wishes which accompanied them against an enemy so much hated,—he admonished them not to let their great superiority of numbers and bravery seduce them into a spirit of rash disorder. “We are about to attack (he said) an enemy admirably equipped in every way, so that we may be very certain that they will come out and fight,[223] even if they be not now actually on the march to meet us at the border, at least when they see us in their territory ravaging and destroying their property. All men exposed to any unusual indignity become incensed, and act more under passion than under calculation, when it is actually brought under their eyes: much more will the Athenians do so, accustomed as they are to empire, and to ravage the territory of others rather than to see their own so treated.”

Immediately on the army being assembled, Archidamus sent Melêsippus as envoy to Athens to announce the coming invasion, being still in hopes that the Athenians would yield. But a resolution had been already adopted, at the instance of Periklês, to receive neither herald nor envoy from the Lacedæmonians when once their army was on its march: so that Melêsippus was sent back without even being permitted to enter the city. He was ordered to quit the territory before sunset, with guides to accompany him and prevent him from addressing a word to any one. On parting from his guides at the border, Melêsippus exclaimed,[224] with a solemnity but too accurately justified by the event: “This day will be the beginning of many calamities to the Greeks.”

Archidamus, as soon as the reception of his last envoy was made known to him, continued his march from the isthmus into Attica,—which territory he entered by the road of Œnoê, the frontier Athenian fortress of Attica towards Bœotia. His march was slow, and he thought it necessary to make a regular attack on the fort of Œnoê, which had been put into so good a state of defence, that after all the various modes of assault, in which the Lacedæmonians were not skilful, had been tried in vain,[225]—and after a delay of several days before the place,—he was compelled to renounce the attempt.

The want of enthusiasm on the part of the Spartan king,—his multiplied delays, first at the isthmus, next in the march, and lastly before Œnoê,—were all offensive to the fiery impatience of the army, who were loud in their murmurs against him. He acted upon the calculation already laid down in his discourse at Sparta,[226]—that the highly cultivated soil of Attica was to be looked upon as a hostage for the pacific dispositions of the Athenians, who would be more likely to yield when devastation, though not yet inflicted, was nevertheless impending, and at their doors. In this point of view, a little delay at the border was no disadvantage; and perhaps the partisans of peace at Athens may have encouraged him to hope that it would enable them to prevail. Nor can we doubt that it was a moment full of difficulty to Periklês at Athens. He had to proclaim to all the proprietors in Attica the painful truth, that they must prepare to see their lands and houses overrun and ruined; and that their persons, families, and movable property, must be brought in for safety either to Athens, or to one of the forts in the territory,—or carried across to one of the neighboring islands. It would, indeed, make a favorable impression when he told them that Archidamus was his own family friend, yet only within such limits as consisted with duty to the city: in case, therefore, the invaders, while ravaging Attica, should receive instruction to spare his own lands, he would forthwith make them over to the state as public property: nor was such a case unlikely to arise, if not from the personal feeling of Archidamus, at least from the deliberate manœuvre of the Spartans, who would seek thus to set the Athenian public against Periklês, as they had tried to do before by demanding the banishment of the sacrilegious Alkmæônid race.[227] But though this declaration would doubtless provoke a hearty cheer, the lesson which he had to inculcate, not simply for admission as prudent policy, but for actual practice, was one revolting alike to the immediate interest, the dignity, and the sympathies of his countrymen. To see their lands all ravaged, without raising an arm to defend them,—to carry away their wives and families, and to desert and dismantle their country residences, as they had done during the Persian invasion,—all in the confidence of compensation in other ways and of remote ultimate success,—were recommendations which, probably, no one but Periklês could have hoped to enforce. They were, moreover, the more painful to execute, inasmuch as the Athenian citizens had very generally retained the habits of residing permanently, not in Athens, but in the various demes of Attica; many of which still preserved their temples, their festivals, their local customs, and their limited municipal autonomy, handed down from the day when they had once been independent of Athens.[228] It was but recently that the farming, the comforts, and the ornaments, thus distributed over Attica, had been restored from the ruin of the Persian invasion, and brought to a higher pitch of improvement than ever; yet the fruits of this labor, and the scenes of these local affections, were now to be again deliberately abandoned to a new aggressor, and exchanged for the utmost privation and discomfort. Archidamus might well doubt whether the Athenians would nerve themselves up to the pitch of resolution necessary for this distressing step, when it came to the actual crisis; and whether they would not constrain Periklês against his will to make propositions for peace. His delay on the border, and postponement of actual devastation, gave the best chance for such propositions being made; though as this calculation was not realized, the army raised plausible complaints against him for having allowed the Athenians time to save so much of their property.

From all parts of Attica the residents flocked within the spacious walls of Athens, which now served as shelter for the houseless, like Salamis, forty-nine years before: entire families with all their movable property, and even with the woodwork of their houses; the sheep and cattle were conveyed to Eubœa and the other adjoining islands.[229] Though a few among the fugitives obtained dwellings or reception from friends, the greater number were compelled to encamp in the vacant spaces of the city and Peiræus, or in and around the numerous temples of the city,—always excepting the acropolis and the eleusinion, which were at all times strictly closed to profane occupants; but even the ground called the Pelasgikon, immediately under the acropolis, which, by an ancient and ominous tradition, was interdicted to human abode,[230] was made use of under the present necessity. Many, too, placed their families in the towers and recesses of the city walls,[231] or in sheds, cabins, tents, or even tubs, disposed along the course of the long walls to Peiræus. In spite of so serious an accumulation of losses and hardships, the glorious endurance of their fathers in the time of Xerxes was faithfully copied, and copied too under more honorable circumstances, since at that time there had been no option possible; whereas, the march of Archidamus might, perhaps, now have been arrested by submissions, ruinous indeed to Athenian dignity, yet not inconsistent with the security of Athens, divested of her rank and power. Such submissions, if suggested as they probably may have been by the party opposed to Periklês, found no echo among the suffering population.