(legendary, died 317 B.C.E.)
By
Plutarch
Translated by John Dryden
Demades, the orator, when in
the height of the power which he obtained at Athens, by advising
the state in the interest of Antipater and the Macedonians, being
necessitated to write and speak many things below the dignity, and contrary
to the character, of the city, was wont to excuse himself by saying he
steered only the shipwrecks of the commonwealth. This hardy saying of his might have some appearance of truth, if applied to Phocion's
government. For Demades, indeed, was himself the mere wreck of
his country, living and ruling so dissolutely, that Antipater
took occasion to say of him, when he was now grown old, that he
was like a sacrificed beast, all consumed except the tongue and
the belly. But Phocion's was a real virtue, only overmatched in
the unequal contest with an adverse time, and rendered, by the
ill fortunes of
"When fortune fails, the sense we had before
Deserts us also, and is ours no more."
Yet thus much, indeed, must be allowed to happen in the conflicts between
good men and ill fortune, that instead of due returns of honour and
gratitude, obloquy and unjust surmises may often prevail, to weaken, in a considerable degree, the credit of their virtue.
It is commonly said that public bodies are most insulting and contumelious to a good man, when they are puffed up with prosperity and success.
But the contrary often happens; afflictions and public
calamities naturally embittering and souring the minds and
tempers of men, and disposing them to such peevishness and
irritability that hardly any word or sentiment of common vigour
can be addressed to them, but they will be apt to take offence.
He that remonstrates with them on their errors is presumed to be
insulting over their misfortunes, and any free-spoken expostulation is
construed into contempt. Honey itself is searching in sore and ulcerated parts; and the wisest and most judicious counsels prove provoking
to distempered minds, unless offered with those soothing and
compliant approaches which made the poet, for instance,
characterize agreeable things in general by a word expressive of
a grateful and easy touch, exciting nothing of offence or
resistance. Inflamed eyes require a retreat into dusky places, amongst colours of the deepest shades, and are unable to endure the
brilliancy of light. So fares it in the body politic, in times
of distress and humiliation; a certain sensitiveness and
soreness of humour prevail, with a weak incapacity of enduring
any free and open advice, even when the necessity of affairs most
requires such plain dealing, and when the consequences of any single error may be beyond retrieving. At such times the conduct of public
affairs is on all hands most hazardous. Those who humour the
people are swallowed up in the common ruin; those who endeavour
to lead them aright perish the first in their attempt.
Astronomers tell us, the sun's motion is neither exactly parallel with
that of the heavens in general, nor yet directly and diametrically opposite,
but describing an oblique line, with insensible declination he steers
his course in such a gentle, easy curve, as to dispense his light and
influence, in his annual revolution, at several seasons in just proportions to the whole creation. So it happens in political affairs; if the
motions of rulers be constantly opposite and cross to the tempers
and inclinations of the people, they will be resented as
arbitrary and harsh; as, on the other side, too much deference,
or encouragement, as too often it has been, to popular faults
and errors, is full of danger and ruinous consequences. But
where concession is the response to willing obedience, and a statesman gratifies his people, that he may the more imperatively recall them
to a sense of the common interest, then, indeed, human beings,
who are ready enough to serve well and submit to much, if they
are not always ordered about and roughly handled, like slaves,
may be said to be guided and governed upon the method that leads
to safety. Though it must be confessed it is a nice point, and
extremely difficult, so to temper this lenity as to preserve the
authority of the government. But if such a blessed mixture and temperament may be obtained, it seems to be of all concords and harmonies the
most concordant and most harmonious. For thus we are taught even
God governs the world, not by irresistible force, but persuasive
argument and reason, controlling it into compliance with his
eternal purposes.
Cato the younger is a similar instance. His manners were little agreeable
or acceptable to the people, and he received very slender marks of
their favour; witness his repulse when he sued for the consulship, which he lost, as Cicero says, for acting rather like a citizen in
Plato's commonwealth, than among the dregs of Romulus's
posterity, the same thing happening to him, in my opinion, as we
observe in fruits ripe before their season, which we rather take
pleasure in looking at and admiring than actually use; so much
was his old-fashioned virtue out of the present mode, among the depraved customs which time and luxury had introduced, that it appeared,
indeed, remarkable and wonderful, but was too great and too good
to suit the present exigencies, being so out of all proportion
to the times. Yet his circumstances were not altogether like
Phocion's, who came to the helm when the ship of the state was
just upon sinking. Cato's time was, indeed, stormy and tempestuous,
yet so, as he was able to assist in managing the sails, and lend
his helping hand to those who, which he was not allowed to do, commanded at the helm, others were to blame for the result; yet his courage and
virtue made it in spite of all a hard task for fortune to ruin
the commonwealth, and it was only with long time and effort and
by slow degrees, when he himself had all but succeeded in
averting it, that the catastrophe was at last effected.
Phocion and he may be well compared together, not for any mere general
resemblances, as though we should say both were good men and great statesmen.
For, assuredly, there is difference enough among virtues of the
same denomination, as between the bravery of Alcibiades and that of Epaminondas,
the prudence of Themistocles and that of Aristides, the justice of
Numa and that of Agesilaus. But these men's virtue, even looking to the most minute points of difference,
bear the same colour, stamp, and character impressed upon them,
so as not to be distinguishable. The mixture is still made in
the same exact proportions whether we look at the combination to
be found in them, both of lenity on the one hand, with austerity on the other; their boldness upon some occasions, and caution on
others; their extreme solicitude for the public, and perfect
neglect of themselves; their fixed and immovable bent to all
virtuous and honest actions, accompanied with an extreme
tenderness and scrupulosity as to doing anything which might
appear mean or unworthy; so that we should need a very nice and subtle logic of discrimination to detect and establish the distinctions
between them.
As to Cato's extraction, it is confessed by all to have been illustrious, as will be said hereafter, nor was Phocion's,
I feel assured, obscure or ignoble. For had he been the son of
a turner, as Idomeneus reports, it had certainly not been
forgotten to his disparagement by Glaucippus, the son of
Hyperides, when heaping up a thousand spiteful things to say against him. Nor, indeed, had it been possible for him, in such
circumstances, to have had such a liberal breeding and
education in his youth, as to be first Plato's and afterwards
Xenocrates's scholar in the Academy, and to have devoted
himself from the first to the pursuit of the noblest studies and
practices. His countenance was so composed that scarcely was he ever seen by any Athenian either laughing or in tears. He was rarely
known, so Duris has recorded, to appear in the public baths, or
was observed with his hand exposed outside his cloak, when he
wore one. Abroad, and in the camp, he was so hardy in going
always thin clad and barefoot, except in a time of excessive
and intolerable cold, that the soldiers used to say in merriment, that it was like to be a hard winter when Phocion
wore his coat.
Although he was most gentle and humane in his disposition, his aspect
was stern and forbidding, so that he was seldom accosted alone by any
who were not intimate with him. When Chares once made some remark on his frowning looks, and the Athenians laughed at the jest,
"My sullenness," said Phocion, "never yet made
any of you sad, but these men's jollities have given you sorrow
enough." In like manner Phocion's language, also, was full
of instruction, abounding in happy maxims and wise thoughts, but admitted
no embellishment to its austere and commanding brevity. Zeno said a
philosopher should never speak till his words had been steeped in meaning; and such, it may be said, were Phocion's, crowding the greatest
amount of significance into the smallest allowance of space.
And to this, probably, Polyeuctus, the Sphettian, referred,
when he said that Demosthenes was, indeed, the best orator of
his time, but Phocion the most powerful speaker. His oratory,
like small coin of great value, was to be estimated, not by its
bulk, but its intrinsic worth. He was once observed, it is said, when the theatre was filling with the audience, to walk musing alone
behind the scenes, which one of his friends taking notice of
said, "Phocion, you seem to be thoughtful."
"Yes," replied he, "I am considering how I may shorten
what I am going to say to the Athenians." Even Demosthenes himself, who used to despise the rest of the haranguers, when Phocion stood
up, was wont to say quietly to those about him, "Here is
the pruning-knife of my periods." This, however, might
refer, perhaps, not so much to his eloquence as to the
influence of his character, since not only a word, but even a
nod from a person who is esteemed, is of more force than a thousand arguments or studied sentences from others.
In his youth he followed Chabrias, the general, from whom he gained many lessons in military knowledge, and in return did something to
correct his unequal and capricious humour. For whereas at other
times Chabrias was heavy and phlegmatic, in the heat of battle
he used to be so fired and transported that he threw himself
headlong into danger beyond the forwardest, which indeed, in
the end, cost him his life in the island of Chios, he having
pressed his own ship foremost to force a landing. But Phocion, being a man of temper as well as courage, had the dexterity at some
times to rouse the general, when in his procrastinating mood,
to action, and at others to moderate and cool the impetuousness
of his unseasonable fury. Upon which account Chabrias, who was
a good-natured, kindly-tempered man, loved him much, and
procured him commands and opportunities for action, giving him
means to make himself known in Greece, and using his assistance in
all his affairs of moment. Particularly the sea-fight of Naxos added not a little to Phocion's reputation, when he had the left
squadron committed to him by Chabrias, as in this quarter the
battle was sharply contested, and was decided by a speedy
victory. And this being the first prosperous sea-battle
the city had engaged in with its own force since its captivity, Chabrias
won great popularity by it, and Phocion, also, got the reputation of
a good commander. The victory was gained at the time of the Great
Mysteries, and Chabrias used to keep the commemoration of it by
distributing wine among the Athenians, yearly, on the sixteenth
day of Boedromion.
After this, Chabrias sent Phocion to demand their quota of the charges
of the war from the islanders, and offered him a guard of twenty ships.
Phocion told him, if he intended him to go against them as enemies, that force was insignificant; if as to friends and allies, one
vessel was sufficient. So he took his own single galley, and
having visited the cities, and treated with the magistrates in
an equitable and open manner, he brought back a number of
ships, sent by the confederates to
Upon looking into public matters, and the way in which they were now
conducted, he observed that the administration of affairs was cut and parcelled out, like so much land by allotment, between the
military men and the public speakers, so that neither these nor
those should interfere with the claims of the others. As the
one were to address the assemblies, to draw up votes and
prepare motions, men, for example, like Eubulus, Aristophon, Demosthenes,
Lycurgus, and Hyperides, and were to push their interests here;
so, in the meantime, Liopithes, Menestheus, Leosthenes, and Chares were
to make their profit by war and in military commands. Phocion, on the
other hand, was desirous to restore and carry out the old system, more complete in itself, and more harmonious and uniform, which
prevailed in the times of Pericles, Aristides, and Solon; when
statesmen showed themselves, to use Archilochus's words-
"Mars' and the Muses' friends alike designed,
To arts and arms indifferently inclined."
and the presiding goddess of his country was, he did not fail to see,
the patroness and protectress of both civil and military wisdom. With these views, while his advice at home was always for peace and
quietness, he nevertheless held the office of general more
frequently than any of the statesmen, not only of his own
times, but of those preceding, never, indeed, promoting or
encouraging military expeditions, yet never, on the other hand,
shunning or declining, when he was called upon by the public voice.
Thus much is well known, that he was no less than forty-five several times chosen general, he being never on any one of those occasions
present at the election, but having the command, in his
absence, by common suffrage, conferred on him, and he sent for
on purpose to undertake it. Insomuch that it amazed those who
did not well consider to see the people always prefer Phocion,
who was so far from humouring them or courting their favour, that
be always thwarted and opposed them. But so it was, as great men and princes are said to call in their flatterers when dinner has been
served, so the Athenians, upon slight occasions, entertained
and diverted themselves with their spruce speakers and trim
orators, but when it came to action, they were sober and
considerate enough to single out the austerest and wisest for
public employment, however much he might be opposed to their wishes
and sentiments. This, indeed, he made no scruple to admit, when the
oracle from Delphi was read, which informed them that the Athenians were all of one mind, a single dissentient only excepted, frankly
coming forward and declaring that they need look no further; he
was the man; there was no one but he who was dissatisfied with
everything they did. And when once he gave his opinion to the
people, and was met with the general approbation and applause
of the assembly, turning to some of his friends, he asked them,
"Have I inadvertently said something foolish?"
Upon occasion of a public festivity, being solicited for his contribution by the example of others, and the people pressing him much, he
bade them apply themselves to the wealthy; for his part he
should blush to make a present here, rather than a repayment
there, turning and pointing to Callicles, the money-lender.
Being still clamoured upon and importuned, he told them this
tale. A certain cowardly fellow setting out for the wars, hearing the
ravens croak in his passage, threw down his arms, resolving to wait. Presently he took them and ventured out again, but hearing the
same music, once more made a stop. "For," said he
"you may croak until you are tired, but you shall make no
dinner upon me."
The Athenians urging him at an unseasonable time to lead them out against
the enemy, he peremptorily refused, and being upbraided by them with
cowardice and pusillanimity, he told them, "Just now, do what you will, I shall not be brave; and do what I will, you
will not be cowards. Nevertheless, we know well enough what we are."
And when again, in a time of great danger, the people were very
harsh upon him, demanding a strict account how the public money
had been employed, and the like, he bade them, "First,
good friends, make sure you are safe." After a war, during which they had been very tractable and timorous, when, upon peace being
made, they began again to be confident and overbearing, and to
cry out upon Phocion, as having lost them the honour of
victory, to all their clamour he made only this answer,
"My friends, you are fortunate in having a leader who knows
you; otherwise, you had long since been undone."
Having a controversy with the Boeotians about boundaries, which he
counselled them to decide by negotiation, they inclined to blows. "You had better," said he, "carry on the contest with the
weapons in which you excel (your tongues), and not by war, in
which you are inferior." Once when he was addressing them,
and they would not hear him or let him go on, said he,
"You may compel me to act against my wishes, but you shall never
force me to speak against my judgment." Among the many public speakers who opposed him, Demosthenes, for example, once told him,
"The Athenians, Phocion, will kill you some day when they
once are in a rage." "And you," said he,
"if they once are in their senses." Polyeuctus, the Sphettian, once on a hot day was urging war with Philip, and being a
corpulent man, and out of breath and in a great heat with
speaking, took numerous draughts of water as he went on.
"Here, indeed," said Phocion, "is a fit
man to lead us into a war! What think you he will do when he is
carrying his corselet and his shield to meet the enemy, if even
here, delivering a prepared speech to you,
has almost killed him with exhaustion?" When Lycurgus in the assembly made many reflections on his past conduct, upbraiding him above
all for having advised them to deliver up the ten citizens whom
Alexander had demanded, he replied that he had been the author
of much safe and wholesome counsel, which had not been
followed.
There was a man called Archibiades, nicknamed the Lacedaemonian, who
used to go about with a huge, over-grown beard, wearing an old threadbare cloak, and affecting a very stern countenance. Phocion once, when
attacked in council by the rest, appealed to this man for his
support and testimony. And when he got up and began to speak on
the popular side, putting his hand to his beard, "O
Archibiades," said he, "it is time you should shave." Aristogiton, a common accuser, was a terrible man of war within
the assembly, always inflaming the people to battle, but when
the muster-roll came to be produced, he appeared limping on a
crutch, with a bandage on his leg; Phocion descried him afar
off, coming in, and cried out to the clerk, "Put down
Aristogiton, too, as lame and worthless."
So that it is a little wonderful, how a man so severe and harsh upon
all occasions should, notwithstanding, obtain the name of the Good. Yet, though difficult, it is not, I suppose, impossible for men's
tempers, any more than for wines, to be at the same time harsh
and agreeable to the taste; just as on the other hand many that
are sweet at the first taste are found, on further use,
extremely disagreeable and unwholesome. Hyperides, we are told,
once said to the people, "Do not ask yourselves, men of Athens, whether or not I am bitter, but whether or not I am paid for being
so," as though a covetous purpose were the only thing that
should make a harsh temper insupportable, and as if men might
not even more justly render themselves obnoxious to popular
dislike and censure, by using their power and influence in the
indulgence of their own private passions of pride and jealousy, anger
and animosity. Phocion never allowed himself from any feeling of personal
hostility to do hurt to any fellow-citizen, nor, indeed, reputed any
man his enemy, except so far as he could not but contend sharply with such as opposed the measures he urged for the public good; in
which argument he was, indeed, a rude, obstinate, and
uncompromising adversary. For his general conversation, it was
easy, courteous, and obliging to all, to that point that he
would befriend his very opponents in their distress, and espouse
the cause of those who differed most from him, when they needed his
patronage. His friends reproaching him for pleading in behalf of a man
of indifferent character, he told them the innocent had no need of an
advocate. Aristogiton, the sycophant, whom we mentioned before, having, after sentence passed upon him, sent earnestly to Phocion to speak
with him in the prison, his friends dissuaded him from going;
"Nay, by your favour," said he, "where should I
rather choose to pay Aristogiton a visit?"
As for the allies of the Athenians, and the islanders, whenever any
admiral besides Phocion was sent, they treated him as an enemy suspect, barricaded their gates, blocked up their havens, brought in from
the country their cattle, slaves, wives, and children, and put
them in garrison; but upon Phocion's arrival, they went out to
welcome him in their private boats and barges, with streamers
and garlands, and received him at landing with every
demonstration of joy and pleasure.
When King Philip was effecting his entry into Euboea, and was bringing over troops from Macedonia, and making himself master of the
cities, by means of the tyrants who ruled in them, Plutarch of
Eretria sent to request aid of the Athenians for the relief of
the island, which was in imminent danger of falling wholly into
the hands of the Macedonians. Phocion was sent thither with a
handful of men in comparison, in expectation that the Euboeans
themselves would flock in and join him. But when he came, he found all
things in confusion, the country all betrayed, the whole ground, as it were, undermined under his feet, by the secret pensioners of
King Philip, so that he was in the greatest risk imaginable. To
secure himself as far as he could, he seized a small rising
ground, which was divided from the level plains about Tamynae
by a deep watercourse, and here he enclosed and fortified the
choicest of his army. As for the idle talkers and disorderly bad
citizens who ran off from his camp and made their way back, he bade his officers not regard them, since here they would have been not
only useless and ungovernable themselves, but an actual
hindrance to the rest: and further, being conscious to
themselves of the neglect of their duty, they would be less
ready to misrepresent the action, or raise a cry against them
at their return home. When the enemy drew nigh, he bade his men stand to their arms, until he had finished the sacrifice, in which he
spent a considerable time, either by some difficulty of the
thing itself, or on purpose to invite the enemy nearer.
Plutarch, interpreting this tardiness as a failure in his
courage, fell on alone with the mercenaries, which the cavalry
perceiving, could not be contained, but issuing also out of the
camp, confusedly and in disorder, spurred up to the enemy. The first who came up were defeated, the rest were put to the rout. Plutarch
himself took to flight, and a body of the enemy advanced in the
hope of carrying the camp, supposing themselves
to have secured the victory. But by this time, the sacrifice
being over, the Athenians within the camp came forward, and
falling upon them put them to flight, and killed the greater number as they fled among the intrenchments, while Phocion, ordering his
infantry to keep on the watch and rally those who came in from
the previous flight, himself, with a body of his best men,
engaged the enemy in a sharp and bloody fight, in which all of them
behaved with signal courage and gallantry. Thallus, the son of
Cineas, and Glaucus of Polymedes, who fought near the general,
gained the honours of the day. Cleophanes, also, did good service in
the battle. Recovering the cavalry from its defeat, and with his shouts and encouragement bringing them up to succour the general, who was
in danger, he confirmed the victory obtained by the infantry.
Phocion now expelled Plutarch from
This affair thus despatched and settled, Phocion set sail homewards, and the allies had soon as good reason to regret the loss of his
just and humane dealing as the Athenians that of his experience
and courage. Molossus, the commander who took his place, had no
better success than to fall alive into the enemy's hands.
Philip, full of great thoughts and designs, now advanced with all his
forces into the Hellespont, to seize the Chersonesus and Perinthus, and after them
For Phocion's name was already honourably known; and an old acquaintance of his, who had been his fellow-student in the Academy, Leon, a
man of high renown for virtue among the Byzantines, having
vouched for Phocion to the city, they opened their gates to
receive him, not permitting him, though he desired it, to
encamp without the walls, but entertained him and all the
Athenians with perfect reliance, while they, to requite their confidence,
behaved among their new hosts soberly and inoffensively, and exerted
themselves on all occasions with the greatest zeal and resolution for
their defence. Thus King Philip was driven out of the
The Megarians at this time privately praying aid of the Athenians, Phocion,
fearing lest the Boeotians should hear of it, and anticipate them, called
an assembly at sunrise, and brought forward the petition of the Megarians,
and immediately after the vote had been put, and carried in their
favour, he sounded the trumpet, and led the Athenians straight from the assembly, to arm and put themselves in posture. The Megarians
received them joyfully, and he proceeded to fortify Nisaea, and
built two new long walls from the city to the arsenal, and so
joined it to the sea, so that having now little reason to
regard the enemies on the land side, it placed its dependence
entirely on the Athenians.
When final hostilities with Philip were now certain, and in Phocion's absence other generals had been nominated, he, on his arrival from
the islands, dealt earnestly with the Athenians, that since
Philip showed peaceable inclinations towards them, and greatly
apprehended the danger, they would consent to a treaty. Being
contradicted in this by one of the ordinary frequenters of the
courts of justice, a common accuser, who asked him if he durst
presume to persuade the Athenians to peace, now their arms were in
their hands, "Yes," said he, "though I know that if there be
war, I shall be in office over you, and if peace, you over
me." But when he could not prevail, and Demosthenes's
opinion carried it, advising them to make war as far off from
home as possible, and fight the battle out of Attica, "Good
friends," said Phocion, "let us not ask where we shall fight, but how we may conquer in the war. That will be the way to keep it at
a distance. If we are beaten, it will be quickly at our
doors." After the defeat, when the clamourers and
incendiaries in the town would have brought up Charidemus to
the hustings, to be nominated to the command, the best of the citizens were in a panic, and supporting themselves with the aid of the
council of the Areopagus, with entreaties and tears, hardly
prevailed upon the people to have Phocion entrusted with the
care of the city. He was of opinion, in general, that the fair
terms to be expected from Philip should be accepted, yet after
Demades had made a motion that the city should receive the common conditions
of peace in concurrence with the rest of the states of Greece, he
opposed it, till it were known what the particulars were which Philip demanded. He was overborne in this advice, under the pressure of
the time, but almost immediately after the Athenians repented
it, when they understood that by these articles they were
obliged to furnish Philip both with horse and shipping.
"It was the fear of this," said Phocion, "that occasioned my opposition. But since the thing is done, let us make the best
of it, and not be discouraged. Our forefathers were sometimes
in command, and sometimes under it; and by doing their duty,
whether as rulers or as subjects, saved their own country and
the rest of
Upon the news of Philip's death, he opposed himself to any public demonstrations
of joy and jubilee, saying it would be ignoble to show malice upon
such an occasion, and that the army that had fought them at
When Demosthenes made his invectives against Alexander, now on his
way to attack
"Unwise one, wherefore to a second stroke
His anger be foolhardy to provoke?"
and asked "Why stimulate his already eager passion for glory? Why take pains to expose the city to the terrible conflagration now so
near? We, who accepted office to save our fellow-citizens, will
not, however they desire it, be consenting to their
destruction."
After Thebes was lost, and Alexander had demanded Demosthenes, Lycurgus,
Hyperides, and Charidemus to be delivered up, the whole assembly turning
their eyes to him, and calling on him by name to deliver his opinion, at last he rose up, and showing them one of his most intimate
friends, whom he loved and confided in above all others, told
them, "You have brought things amongst you to that pass,
that for my part, should he demand this my friend Nicocles, I
would not refuse to give him up. For as for myself, to have it
in my power to sacrifice my own life and fortune for the common safety,
I should think the greatest of good fortune. Truly," he added, "it pierces my heart to see those who are fled hither for
succour from the desolation of
When this was decreed by the people, Alexander is said to have rejected
their first address when it was presented, throwing it from him scornfully,
and turning his back upon the deputation, who left him in affright. But the second, which was presented by Phocion, he received,
understanding from the older Macedonians how much Philip had
admired and esteemed him. And he not only gave him audience and
listened to his memorial and petition, but also permitted him
to advise him, which he did to this effect, that if his designs
were for quietness, he should make peace at once; if glory were
his aim, he should make war, not upon Greece, but on the barbarians. With various counsels and suggestions, happily designed to meet
the genius and feelings of Alexander, he so won upon him, and
softened his temper, that he bade the Athenians not forget
their position, as if anything went wrong with him, the supremacy
belonged to them. And to Phocion himself, whom he adopted as
his friend and guest, he showed a respect, and admitted him to
distinctions, which few of those who were continually near his person ever received. Duris, at any rate, tells us, that when he became
great, and had conquered Darius, in the heading of all his
letters he left off the word Greeting,
except in those he wrote to Phocion. To him, and to Antipater
alone, he condescended to use it. This also is stated by Chares.
As for his munificence to him, it is well known he sent him a present at one time of one hundred talents; and this being brought to
Athens, Phocion asked of the bearers how it came to pass that
among all the Athenians he alone should be the object of this
bounty. Being told that Alexander esteemed him alone a person
of honour and worth, "Let him, then," said he, "permit me to continue so and be still so reputed." Following him to
his house, and observing his simple and plain way of living,
his wife employed in kneading bread with her own hands, himself
drawing water to wash his feet, they pressed him to accept it,
with some indignation, being ashamed, as they said, that Alexander's friend should live so poorly and
pitifully. So Phocion, pointing out to them a poor old fellow,
in a dirty worn-out coat, passing by, asked them if they
thought him in worse condition than this man. They bade him not
mention such a comparison. "Yet," said Phocion, "he,
with less to live upon than I, finds it sufficient, and in brief," he continued, "if I do not use this money, what good is there
in my having it; and if I do use it, I shall procure an ill
name, both for myself and for Alexander, among my
countrymen." So the treasure went back again from Athens,
to prove to Greece, by a signal example, that he who could afford to
give so magnificent a present, was yet not so rich as he who could afford to refuse it. And when Alexander was displeased, and wrote back to
him to say that he could not esteem those his friends who would
not be obliged by him, not even would this induce Phocion to
accept the money, but he begged leave to intercede with him in
behalf of Echecratides, the sophist, and Athenodorus, the
Imbrian, as also for Demaratus and Sparton, two Rhodians, who
had been arrested upon some charges, and were in custody at Sardis. This was instantly granted by Alexander, and they were set at
liberty. Afterwards, when sending Craterus into
Phocion's house is shown to this day in Melita, ornamented with small
plates of copper, but otherwise plain and homely. Concerning his wives,
of the first of them there is little said, except that she was sister of Cephisodotus, the statuary. The other was a matron of no less
reputation for her virtues and simple living among the
Athenians than Phocion was for his probity. It happened once
when the people were entertained with a new tragedy, that the
actor, just as he was to enter the stage to perform the part of
a queen, demanded to have a number of attendants sumptuously dressed,
to follow in his train, and on their not being provided, was sullen and refused to act, keeping the audience waiting, till at last
Melanthius, who had to furnish the chorus, pushed him on the
stage, crying out, "What, don't you know that Phocion's
wife is never attended by more than a single waiting-woman, but
you must needs be grand, and fill our women's heads with
vanity?" This speech of his, spoken loud enough to be heard, was received with great applause, and clapped all round the theatre. She
herself, when once entertaining a visitor out of Ionia, who
showed her all her rich ornaments, made of gold and set with
jewels, her wreaths, necklaces, and the like, "For my part,"
said she, "all my ornament is my husband, Phocion, now for the
twentieth year in office as general at Athens."
He had a son named Phocus, who wished to take part in the games at
the great feast of Minerva. He permitted him so to do, in the contest of leaping, not with any view to the victory, but in the hope that
the training and discipline for it would make him a better man,
the youth being in a general way a lover of drinking, and
ill-regulated in his habits. On his having succeeded in the
sports, many were eager for the honour of his company at
banquets in celebration of the victory. Phocion declined all
these invitations but one, and when he came to this entertainment and saw the costly preparations, even the water brought to wash the
guests' feet being mingled with wine and spices,
he reprimanded his son, asking him why he would so far permit
his friend to sully the honour of his victory. And in the hope
of wholly weaning the young man from such habits and company, he
sent him to
When Alexander wrote to demand a supply of galleys, and the public speakers
objected to sending them, Phocion, on the council requesting his opinion,
told them freely, "Sirs, I would either have you victorious yourselves, or friends of those who are so." He took up Pytheas, who
about this time first began to address the assembly, and
already showed himself a confident, talking fellow, by saying
that a young slave whom the people had but bought yesterday
ought to have the manners to hold his tongue. And when Harpalus, who
had fled from Alexander out of Asia, carrying off a large sum of money, came to Attica, and there was a perfect race among the ordinary
public men of the assembly who should be the first to take his
pay, he distributed amongst these some trifling sums by way of
a bait and provocative, but to Phocion he made an offer of no
less than seven hundred talents and all manner of other
advantages he pleased to demand; with the compliment that he
would entirely commit himself and all his affairs to his disposal. Phocion answered sharply, Harpalus should repent of it, if he did not
quickly leave off corrupting and debauching the city, which for
the time silenced him, and checked his proceedings. But
afterwards, when the Athenians were deliberating in council
about him, he found those that had received money from him to be
his greatest enemies, urging and aggravating matters against him, to prevent themselves being discovered, whereas Phocion, who had
never touched his pay, now, so far as the public interest would
admit of it, showed some regard to his particular security.
This encouraged him once more to try his inclinations, and upon
further survey finding that he himself was a fortress,
inaccessible on every quarter to the approaches of corruption, he
professed a particular friendship to Phocion's son-in-law, Charicles. And admitting him into his confidence in all his affairs, and
continually requesting his assistance, he brought him under
some suspicion. Upon the occasion, for example, of the death of
Pythonice, who was Harpalus's mistress, for whom he had a great
fondness, and had a child by her, he resolved to build her a
sumptuous monument, and committed the care of it to his friend Charicles.
This commission, disreputable enough in itself, was yet further disparaged
by the figure the piece of workmanship made after it was finished. It
is yet to be seen in the Hermenum, as you go from
Asclepiades, the son of Hipparchus, brought the first tidings of Alexander's
death to
When Leosthenes now had embarked the city in the Lamian war, greatly against Phocion's wishes, to raise a laugh against Phocion, he
asked him scoffingly, what the state had been benefited by his
having now so many years been general. "It is not a
little," said Phocion, "that the citizens have been
buried in their own sepulchres." And when Leosthenes continued to speak boldly and boastfully in the assembly, "Young
man," he said, "your speeches
are like cypress-trees, stately and tall, and no fruit to come of
them." When he was then attacked by Hyperides, who asked him when the time would come that he would advise the Athenians to make war.
"As soon," said he, "as I find the young men
keep their ranks, the rich men contribute their money, and the
orators leave off robbing the treasury." Afterwards, when
many admired the forces raised, and the preparations for war that were
made by Leosthenes, they asked Phocion how he approved of the new levies.
"Very well," said he, "for the short course; but what I fear is the long race. Since, however late the war may last, the city has neither money, ships, nor soldiers, but
these." The event justified his prognostics. At first all
things appeared fair and promising. Leosthenes gained great reputation
by worsting the Boeotians in battle, and driving Antipater within the
walls of
Leosthenes, soon after, was killed, and now those who feared lest if
Phocion obtained the command he would put an end to the war, arranged with an obscure person in the assembly, who should stand up and
profess himself to be a friend and old confidant of Phocion's,
and persuade the people to spare him at this time, and reserve
him (with whom none could compare) for a more pressing
occasion, and now to give Antiphilus the command of the army.
This pleased the generality, but Phocion made it appear he was
so far from having any friendship with him of old standing, that he had not so much as the least familiarity with him; "Yet now,
sir," says he, "give me leave to put you down among
the number of my friends and well-wishers, as you have given a
piece of advice so much to my advantage."
When the people were eager to make an expedition against the Boeotians, he at first opposed it; and on his friends telling him the people
would kill him for always running counter to them, "That
will be unjust of them," he said, "if I give them
honest advice, if not, it will be just of them." But when
he found them persisting and shouting to him to lead them out, he
commanded the crier to make proclamation, that all the Athenians under sixty should instantly provide
themselves with five days' provision, and follow him from the
assembly. This caused a great tumult. Those in years were
startled, and clamoured against the order; he demanded wherein he injured
them, "For I," says he, "am now fourscore, and am ready to lead you." This succeeded in pacifying them for the present.
But when Micion, with a large force of Macedonians and mercenaries, began to pillage the sea-coast, having made a descent upon
Rhamnus, and overrun the neighbouring country, Phocion led out
the Athenians to attack him. And when sundry private persons
came, intermeddling with his dispositions, and telling him that
he ought to occupy such or such a hill, detach the cavalry in
this or that direction, engage the enemy on this point or that, "Oh
Hercules," said he, "how many generals have we here, and how few
soldiers!" Afterwards, having formed the battle, one who
wished to show his bravery advanced out of his post before the
rest, but on the enemy's approaching, lost heart, and retired
back into his rank. "Young man," said Phocion, "are
you not ashamed twice in one day to desert your station, first that on which I had placed you, and secondly that on which you had
placed yourself?" However, he entirely routed the enemy,
killing Micion and many more on the spot. The Grecian army,
also, in Thessaly, after Leonnatus and the Macedonians who came
with him out of
But not long after, Craterus crossed from
Upon the news of Antipater's now advancing at once against Athens, with
all his force, Demosthenes and Hyperides deserted the city, and Demades, who was altogether insolvent for any part of the fines that had
been laid upon him by the city, for he had been condemned no
less than seven times for introducing bills contrary to the
laws, and who had been disfranchised, and was no longer
competent to vote in the assembly, laid hold of this season of
impunity to bring in a bill for sending ambassadors with plenipotentiary power to Antipater, to treat about a peace. But the people
distrusted him, and called upon Phocion to give his opinion, as
the person they only and entirely confided in. He told them,
"If my former counsels had been prevalent with you, we had
not been reduced to deliberate the question at all." However, the
vote passed; and a decree was made, and he with others deputed to go to Antipater, who lay now encamped in the Theban territories, but
intended to dislodge immediately, and pass into
When Phocion had returned to the city and acquainted them with this
answer, they made a virtue of necessity and complied, since it would be no better. So Phocion returned to Thebes with the other
ambassadors, and among the rest Xenocrates, the philosopher,
the reputation of whose virtue and wisdom was so great and
famous everywhere, that they conceived there could not be any
pride, cruelty, or anger arising in the heart of man, which
would not at the mere sight of him be subdued into something of
reverence and admiration. But the result, as it happened, was the very opposite, Antipater showed such a want of feeling, and such a
dislike of goodness. He saluted every one else, but would not
so much as notice Xenocrates. Xenocrates, they tell us,
observed upon it, that Antipater, when meditating such cruelty
to
But the proceeding seemed sufficiently imperious and
arbitrary, indeed rather a spiteful and insulting ostentation
of power, than that the possession of the fortress would be of
any great importance. The resentment felt upon it was
heightened by the time it happened in, for the garrison was
brought in on the twentieth of the month of Boedromion. Just at the time of the great festival, when they carry forth Iacchus with
solemn pomp from the city to
Menyllus was sufficient security that the garrison should behave itself
inoffensively. But those who were now excluded from the franchise by
property amounted to more than twelve thousand; so that both those that remained in the city thought themselves oppressed and shamefully
used, and those who on this account left their homes and went
away into Thrace, where Antipater offered them a town and some
territory to inhabit, regarded themselves only as a colony of
slaves and exiles. And when to this was added the deaths of
Demosthenes at Calauria, and of Hyperides at Clonae, as we have
elsewhere related, the citizens began to think with
regret of Philip and Alexander, and almost to wish the return
of those times. And as, after Antigonus was slain, when those
that had taken him off were afflicting and oppressing the
people, a countryman in Phrygia, digging in the fields, was
asked what he was doing, "I am," said he, fetching a deep sigh,
"searching for Antigonus;" so said many that
remembered those days, and the contests they had with those
kings, whose anger, however great, was yet generous and
placable; whereas Antipater, with the counterfeit humility of appearing like a private man, in the meanness of his dress and his homely
fare, merely belied his real love of that arbitrary power,
which he exercised, as a cruel master and despot, to distress
those under his command. Yet Phocion had interest with him to
recall many from banishment by his intercession, and prevailed
also for those who were driven out, that they might not, like
others, be hurried beyond Taenarus, and the mountains of Ceraunia, but
remain in
Menyllus wished to give Phocion a considerable present of money, who,
thanking him, said, neither was Menyllus greater than Alexander, nor his own occasions more urgent to receive it now, than when he
refused it from him. And on his pressing him to permit his son
Phocus to receive it, he replied, "If my son returns to a
right mind, his patrimony is sufficient; if not, all supplies
will be insufficient." But to Antipater he answered more
sharply, who would have him engaged in something dishonourable.
"Antipater," said he,
"cannot have me both as his friend and his flatterer." And, indeed, Antipater was wont to say he had two friends at
The garrison in Munychia continued to be felt as a great grievance, and the Athenians did not cease to be importunate upon Phocion, to
prevail with Antipater for its removal; but whether he
despaired of effecting it, or perhaps observed the people to be
more orderly, and public matters more reasonably conducted by
the awe that was thus created, he constantly declined the
office, and contented himself with obtaining from Antipater the postponement for the present of the payment of the sum of money in which the
city was fined. So the people, leaving him off applied
themselves to Demades, who readily undertook the employment,
and took along with him his son also into Macedonia; and some
superior power, as it seems, so ordering it, he came just at
that nick of time when Antipater was already seized with his sickness,
and Cassander, taking upon himself the command, had found a letter of
Demades's, formerly written by him to Antigonus in Asia recommending him to come and possess himself of the empire of Greece and
Macedon, now hanging, he said (a scoff at Antipater), "by
an old and rotten thread." So when Cassander saw him come,
he seized him; and first brought out the son. and killed him so close before his face that the blood ran
all over his clothes and person, and then, after bitterly
taunting and upbraiding him with his ingratitude and treachery,
despatched him himself.
Antipater being dead, after nominating Polysperchon general-in-chief and Cassander commander of the cavalry, Cassander at once set up
for himself, and immediately despatched Nicanor to Menyllus, to
succeed him in the command of the garrison, commanding him to
possess himself of Munychia before the news of Antipater's
death should be heard; which being done, and some days after
the Athenians hearing the report of it, Phocion was taxed as privy to
it before, and censured heavily for dissembling it, out of friendship for Nicanor. But he slighted their talk, and making it his duty to
visit and confer continually with Nicanor, he succeeded in
procuring his good-will and kindness for the Athenians, and
induced him even to put himself to trouble and expense to seek
popularity with them, by undertaking the office of presiding at
the games.
In the meantime Polysperchon, who was intrusted with the charge of
the king, to countermine Cassander, sent a letter to the city, declaring, in the name of the king, that he restored them their democracy,
and that the whole Athenian people were at liberty to conduct
their commonwealth according to their ancient customs and
constitutions. The object of these pretences was merely the
overthrow of Phocion's influence, as the event manifested. For
Polysperchon's design being to possess himself of the city, he
despaired altogether of bringing it to pass whilst Phocion retained his credit; and the most certain way to ruin him would be again to
fill the city with a crowd of disfranchised citizens, and let
loose the tongues of the demagogues and common accusers.
With this prospect the Athenians were all in excitement, and Nicanor, wishing to confer with them on the subject, at a meeting of the
Council in
Alexander, the son of Polysperchon, was at hand with a considerable force, and professed to come to give them succour against Nicanor,
but intended nothing less, if possible, than to surprise the
city, whilst they were in tumult and divided among themselves. For all that had previously been
expelled from the city, now coming back with him, made their way into it, and were joined by a mixed multitude of foreigners and
disfranchised persons, and of these a motley and irregular
public assembly came together, in which they presently divested
Phocion of all power, and chose other generals; and if by
chance Alexander had not been spied from the walls, alone in
close conference with Nicanor, and had not this, which was often repeated,
given the Athenians cause of suspicion, the city had not escaped the
snare. The orator Agnonides, however, at once fell foul upon Phocion, and impeached him of treason; Callimedon and Charicles, fearing
the worst, consulted their own security by flying from the
city. Phocion, with a few of his friends that stayed with him
went over to Polysperchon, and out of respect for him, Solon of
Plataea, and Dinarchus of Corinth, who were reputed friends and
confidants of Polysperchon, accompanied him. But on account of
Dinarchus falling ill, they remained several days in Elatea, during
which time, upon the persuasion of Agnonides and on the motion of Archestratus,
a decree passed that the people should send delegates thither to
accuse Phocion. So both parties reached Polysperchon at the same time, who was going through the country with
the king, and was then at a small
There Polysperchon, having set up the golden canopy, and seated the
king and his company under it, ordered Dinarchus at once to be taken, and tortured, and put to death; and that done, gave audience to
the Athenians, who filled the place with noise and tumult,
accusing and recriminating on one another, till at last
Agnonides came forward, and requested they might all be shut up
together in one cage, and conveyed to Athens, there to decide
the controversy. At that the king could not forbear smiling, but
the company that attended, for their own amusement, Macedonians and strangers, were eager to hear the altercation, and made signs to
the delegates to go on with their case at once. But it was no
sort of fair hearing. Polysperchon frequently interrupted
Phocion, till at last Phocion struck his staff on the ground
and declined to speak further. And when Hegemon said, Polysperchon himself
could bear witness to his affection for the people, Polysperchon called
out fiercely, "Give over slandering me to the king," and the king starting up was about to have run him through with his javelin,
but Polysperchon interposed and hindered him; so that the
assembly dissolved.
Phocion, then, and those about him, were seized; those of his friends that were not immediately by him, on seeing this, hid their faces,
and saved themselves by flight. The rest Clitus took and brought
to
Then Agnonides read the bill, in accordance with which the people should
decide by show of hands whether they judged them guilty, and if so
it should be found, the penalty should be death. When this had been read out, some desired it might be added to the sentence that
Phocion should be tortured also, and the rack should be
produced with the executioners. But Agnonides perceiving even
Clitus to dislike this, and himself thinking it horrid and barbarous, said, "When we catch that slave,
Callimedon, men of
There were present with Phocion, Nicocles, Thudippus, Hegemon, and
Pythocles. Demetrius the Phalerian, Callimedon, Charicles, and some others, were included in the condemnation, being absent.
After the assembly was dismissed, they were carried to the prison; the
rest with cries and lamentations, their friends and relatives following and clinging about them, but Phocion looking (as men observed with
astonishment at his calmness and magnanimity), just the same as
when he had been used to return to his home attended, as
general, from the assembly. His enemies ran along by his side,
reviling and abusing him. And one of them coming up to him,
spat in his face; at which Phocion, turning to the officers, only
said, "You should stop this indecency." Thudippus, on their reaching the prison, when he observed the executioner tempering the poison
and preparing it for them, gave away to his passion, and began
to bemoan his condition and the hard measure he received, thus
unjustly to suffer with Phocion. "You cannot be
contented," said he, "to die with Phocion?" One of his friends that stood by, asked him if he wished to
have anything said to his son. "Yes, by all means,"
said he, "bid him bear no grudge against the Athenians." Then Nicocles, the dearest and most faithful of his friends,
begged to be allowed to drink the poison first. "My
friend," said he, "you ask what I am loath and
sorrowful to give, but as I never yet in all my life was so
thankless as to refuse you, I must gratify you in this also." After they had all drunk of it, the poison ran short; and the
executioner refused to prepare more, except they would pay him
twelve drachmas, to defray the cost of the quantity required.
Some delay was made, and time spent, when Phocion called one
of his friends, and observing that a man could not even die at
It was the nineteenth day of the month Munychion, on which it was the
usage to have a solemn procession in the city, in honour of Jupiter. The horsemen, as they passed by, some of them threw away their
garlands, others stopped, weeping, and casting sorrowful looks
towards the prison doors, and all the citizens whose minds
were not absolutely debauched by spite and passion, or who had
any humanity left, acknowledged it to have been most impiously
done, not, at least, to let that day pass, and the city so be
kept pure from death and a public execution at the solemn festival. But as if this triumph had been insufficient, the malice of
Phocion's enemies went yet further; his dead body was excluded
from burial within the boundaries of the country, and none of
the Athenians could light a funeral pile to burn the corpse;
neither durst any of his friends venture to concern themselves about
it. A certain Conopion, a man who used to do these offices for hire, took the body and carried it beyond
And, indeed, a very little time and their own sad experience soon informed
them what an excellent governor, and how great an example and guardian
of justice and of temperance they had bereft themselves of. And now
they decreed him a statue of brass, and his bones to be buried honourably at the public charge; and for his accusers, Agnonides they took
themselves, and caused him to be put to death. Epicurus and
Demophilus, who fled from the city for fear, his son met with,
and took his revenge upon them. This son of his, we are told,
was in general of an indifferent character, and once when
enamoured of a slave girl kept by a common harlot merchant, happened to hear Theodorus, the atheist, arguing in the Lyceum, that if it
were a good and honourable thing to buy the freedom of a
friend in the masculine, why not also of a friend in the
feminine, if, for example, a master, why not also a mistress?
So putting the good argument and his passion together, he went
off and purchased the girl's freedom. The death which was thus suffered
by Phocion revived among the Greeks the memory of that of Socrates, the two cases being so similar, and both equally the sad fault
and misfortune of the city.
THE END