“During the active reigns of Philip and Alexander, Demosthenes sounded a perpetual alarm, and ceased not to warn his countrymen against yielding to the ambitious projects of these enterprising monarchs. But when Antipater obtained possession of Athens, the orator fled to the isle of Calauria, and took sanctuary in a temple dedicated to Neptune. Fully persuaded that he had nothing to hope from the clemency of Antipater, he withdrew into the interior; and, under a pretence of writing to his family, put a poisoned quill in his mouth, which, in a few minutes, terminated his mortal existence, and disappointed the meditated vengeance of his enemies. “A higher eulogium could scarcely have been pronounced on this prince of orators, than that which was spoken by Antipater himself, several years before his death. ‘I regard not,’ said he, ‘the harbours, the fleets, the armies of the Athenians: Demosthenes alone gives me pain. Without him, the Athenians would be amongst the most despicable inhabitants of Greece. He alone inspires and animates them: he rouses them, with his thundering eloquence, from their slumbers, and puts arms and oars into their hands, in spite of themselves. He perpetually sets before them the ancient victories of Marathon and Salamis, and invites them to similar deeds of valour. Nothing escapes his penetrating mind: he foresees all our projects—countermines and defeats all our designs: insomuch, that if Athens confided in his wisdom, and implicity followed his counsels, our condition were hopeless. No bribe can tempt him: like another Aristides, he is impenetrable to such overtures: patriotism alone inspires and actuates him.’ Such was the honourable testimony, borne by an enemy, to the commanding talents and public virtue of this celebrated orator.” “How strikingly is St. Paul’s definition,” said Mrs. Spencer, “of that light and frivolous propensity of the Athenians, which led them to pass the day only to ‘hear and tell some new thing,’ illustrated by Plutarch’s relation of the illiterate citizen, who voted Aristides to the punishment of the ostracism. When that great man questioned his accuser, whether Aristides had ever injured him, he replied: Far from it: that he did not even know him; only he was quite tired of hearing him every where called ‘the just.’ Besides that spirit of envy which is remarkably displayed in his speech, to have heard this excellent person calumniated must have been a refreshing novelty, and have enabled him to tell a new thing.”