1.14

'Sir,' he said, 'we appreciate the fact that you do not demand from us unreasoning obedience. You have made it clear to us that you will lead us on only after winning our consent, and, failing that, that you will not use compulsion. This being so, I do not propose to speak on behalf of the officers here assembled, as we, by virtue of our rank and authority, have already received the rewards of our services and are naturally concerned more than the men are to further your interests. I shall speak, therefore for the common soldiers, not, by any means, with the purpose of echoing their sentiments, but saying, what I believe will tend to your present advantage and our future security. My age, the repute which by your favour, I enjoy among my comrades, and the unhesitating courage have hitherto displayed in all dangers and difficulties give me the right to declare what I believe to be the soundest policy. Very well, then: precisely, in proportion to the number and magnitude of the achievements wrought by you, our leader, and by the men who marched from horn under your command, I judge it best to set some limit to further enterprise. You know the number of Greeks and Macedonians who started upon this campaign, and you can see how many of us are left today: the Thessalians you sent home from Bactra because you knew their hearts were no longer in their work—and it was wisely done; other Greeks have been settled in the new towns you have founded, where they remain not always willingly, others again, together with our own Macedonians, continue, to share with you the dangers and hardships of war, and of these some have been killed, some, disabled by wounds, have been left behind in various parts of Asia, and more still have died of sickness, so that only a few from that great army are left, a small remnant broken in health, their old vigour and determination gone. Every man of them longs to see his parents again, if they yet survive, or his wife, or his children; all are yearning for, the familiar earth of home, hoping, pardonably enough, to live, to revisit it, no longer in poverty and obscurity, but famous and enriched by the treasure you have enabled them to win. Do not try to lead men who are unwilling to follow you; . if their heart is not in it, you will never find the old spirit or the old courage. Consent rather yourself to return to your mother and your home. Once there, you may bring good government to Greece and enter your ancestral: house with all the glory of the many great victories won in this campaign, and then, should you so desire it, you may begin again and undertake a new expedition against these Indians of the East —or, if you prefer, to the Black Sea or to Carthage and the Libyan territories beyond. It is for you to decide. Other troops, Greek and Macedonian, will follow you —young, fresh troops to take the place of your war-weary veterans. Still ignorant of the horrors of war and full of hope for what the future may bring, these men will follow you with all the more eagerness in that they have seen your old campaigners come safely home again no longer poor and nameless but loaded with money and fame. Sir, if there is one thing above all others a successful man should know, it is when to stop. Assuredly for a commander like yourself, with an army like ours, there is nothing to fear from any enemy; but luck, remember, is an unpredictable thing, and against what it may bring no man has any defence.'