He read to the end, we stayed long enough for me to give the poem its meed of praise, and then adjourned to his house, where after some search the book was found. I took it away with me, and on further acquaintance was so much impressed by it that I shall do no editing, but read it you _totidem verbis_. Asclepius is not less honoured if his worshippers, in default of original compositions, have the hymns of Isodemus or Sophocles performed before him; there is a failure nowadays in the supply of new plays for Dionysus; but those who produce the works of old masters at the proper season have the credit all the same of honouring the God. This book, then (the part of the state records that concerns us is the conversation I shall give you)--the book informs us that Archias's name was announced to Antipater. In case any of my younger hearers should not know the fact already, this Archias had been charged with the arrest of all exiles. In particular, he was to get Demosthenes from Calauria into Antipater's presence, but rather by persuasion than by force. Antipater was excited about it, hoping that Demosthenes might arrive any day. So, hearing that Archias was come from Calauria, he gave orders for his instant admittance. When he entered--but you shall have the conversation as it stands. _Archias. Antipater_ _Ar._ Is it well with you, Antipater? _Ant._ It is well, if you have brought Demosthenes. _Ar._ I have brought him as I might. I have the urn that holds his remains. _Ant._ Ha? my hopes are dashed. What avail ashes and urns, if I have not Demosthenes? _Ar._ The soul, O King, may not be prisoned in a man's own despite. _Ant._ Why took you him not alive? _Ar._ We took him. _Ant._ And he has died on the way? _Ar._ He died where he was, in Calauria. _Ant._ Your neglect is to blame; you took not due care of him. _Ar._ Nay, it lies not at our door. _Ant._ What mean you? These are riddles, Archias; you took him alive, and you have him not? _Ar._ Was it not your charge that we should use no force at first? Yet indeed we should have fared no better if we had; we did intend it. _Ant._ You did not well, even in the intention; it may be your violence killed him. _Ar._ No, we killed him not; but if we could not persuade him, there was nothing for it but force. But, O King, how had you been the better off, if he had come alive? you could have done no more than kill him.