I. The orator Demades, who became one of the chief men in Athens by his subservience to the Macedonians and Antipater, and who was forced to say and to write much that was derogatory to the glory and contrary to the traditional policy of Athens, used to excuse himself by pleading that he did not come to the helm before the vessel of the State was an utter wreck. This expression, which seems a bold one when used by Demades, might with great truth have been applied to the policy of Phokion. Indeed Demades himself wrecked Athens by his licentious life and policy, and when he was an old man Antipater said of him that he was like a victim which has been cut up for sacrifice, for there was nothing left of him but his tongue and his paunch; while the true virtue of Phokion was obscured by the evil days for Greece during which he lived, which prevented his obtaining the distinction which he deserved. We must not believe Sophokles, when he says that virtue is feeble and dies out in men:

“Why, not the very mind that’s born with man,
When he’s unfortunate, remains the same.”

Yet we must admit that fortune has so much power even over good men, that it has sometimes withheld from them their due meed of esteem and praise, has sullied their reputations with unworthy calumnies, and made it difficult for the world to believe in their virtue.

II. It would seem that democracies, when elated by success, are especially prone to break out into wanton maltreatment of their greatest men; and this is also true in the opposite case: for misfortunes render popular assemblies harsh, irritable, and uncertain in temper, so that it becomes a dangerous matter to address them, because they take offence at any speaker who gives them wholesome counsel. When he blames them for their mistakes, they think that he is reproaching them with their misfortunes, and when he speaks his mind freely about their condition, they imagine that he is insulting them. Just as honey irritates wounds and sores, so does true and sensible advice exasperate the unfortunate, if it be not of a gentle and soothing nature: exactly as the poet calls sweet things agreeable, because they agree with the taste, and do not oppose or fight against it. An inflamed eye prefers the shade, and shuns strong lights: and a city, when involved in misfortunes, becomes timid and weak through its inability to endure plain speaking at a time when it especially needs it, as otherwise its mistakes cannot be repaired. For this reason the position of a statesman in a democracy must always be full of peril; for if he tries merely to please the people he will share their ruin, while if he thwarts them he will be destroyed by them.

Astronomers teach us that the sun does not move in exactly the same course as the stars, and yet not in one which is opposed to them, but by revolving in an inclined and oblique orbit performs an easy and excellent circuit through them all, by which means everything is kept in its place, and its elements combined in the most admirable manner. So too in political matters, the man who takes too high a tone, and opposes the popular will in all cases, must be thought harsh and morose, while on the other hand he who always follows the people and shares in all their mistakes pursues a dangerous and ruinous policy. The art of government by which states are made great consists in sometimes making concessions to the people, and gratifying them when they are obedient to authority, and at the same time insisting upon salutary measures. Men willingly obey and support such a ruler if he does not act in a harsh and tyrannical fashion: but he has a very difficult and laborious part to play, and it is hard for him to combine the sternness of a sovereign with the gentleness of a popular leader, If, however, he succeed in combining these qualities, they produce the truest and noblest harmony, like that by which God is said to regulate the universe, as everything is brought about by gentle persuasion, and not by violence.

III. All this was exemplified in the case of the younger Cato: for he had not the art of persuasion and was unacceptable to the people, nor did he rise to eminence by the popular favour, but Cicero says that he lost his consulship because he acted as if he were living in the Republic of Plato, and not in the dregs of Romulus. Such men seem to me to resemble fruits which grow out of season: for men gaze upon them with wonder, but do not eat them: and the stern antique virtue of Cato, displayed as it was in a corrupt and dissolute age, long after the season for it had gone by, gained him great glory and renown, but proved totally useless, as it was of too exalted a type to suit the political exigencies of the day. When Cato began his career, his country was not already ruined, as was that of Phokion. The ship of the state was indeed labouring heavily in the storm, but Cato, although he was not permitted to take the helm and guide the vessel, exerted himself so manfully, and gave so much assistance to those who were more powerful than himself, that he all but triumphed over fortune. The constitution was, no doubt, finally overthrown; but its ruin was due to others, and only took place after a long and severe struggle, during which Cato very nearly succeeded in saving it. I have chosen Phokion to compare with him, not because of the general resemblance of their characters as good and statesmanlike men, for a man may possess the same quality in various forms, as, for example, the courage of Alkibiades was of a different kind to that of Epameinondas; the ability of Themistokles was different to that of Aristeides; and the justice of Numa Pompilius was different to that of Agesilaus. But in the case of Phokion and Cato, their virtues bore the same stamp, form, and ethical complexion down to the most minute particulars. Both alike possessed the same mixture of kindness and severity, of caution and daring: both alike cared for the safety of others and neglected their own: both alike shrank from baseness, and were zealous for the right; so that one would have to use a very nice discrimination to discover the points of difference between their respective dispositions.

IV. Cato is admitted by all writers to have been a man of noble descent, as will be explained in his life: and I imagine that the family of Phokion was not altogether mean and contemptible. If his father had really been a pestle maker, as we are told by Idomeneus, who may be sure that Glaukippus, the son of Hypereides, who collected and flung at him such a mass of abuse, would not have omitted to mention his low birth, nor would he have been so well brought up as to have been a scholar of Plato while a lad, and afterwards to have studied under Xenokrates in the Academy; while from his youth up he always took an interest in liberal branches of learning. We are told by the historian Douris that scarcely any Athenian ever saw Phokion laughing or weeping, or bathing in the public baths, or with his hand outside of his cloak, when he wore one. Indeed when he was in the country or on a campaign he always went barefooted and wore only his tunic, unless the cold was excessively severe; so that the soldiers used to say in jest that it was a sign of wintry weather to see Phokion wearing his cloak.

V. Though one of the kindest and most affable of men, he was of a forbidding and severe countenance, so that men who did not know him well feared to address him when alone. Once when Chares in a speech mentioned Phokion’s gloomy brow, the Athenians began to laugh. “Yet,” said he, “his brow has never harmed you: but the laughter of these men has brought great sorrow upon the state.” In like manner also the oratory of Phokion was most valuable, as it incited his countrymen to win brilliant successes, and to form lofty aspirations. He spoke in a brief, harsh, commanding style, without any attempt to flatter or please his audience. Just as Zeno says that a philosopher ought to steep his words in meaning, so Phokion’s speeches conveyed the greatest possible amount of meaning in the smallest compass. It is probably in allusion to this that Polyeuktus of Sphettus said that Demosthenes was the best orator, but that Phokion was the most powerful speaker. As the smallest coins are those which have the greatest intrinsic value, so Phokion in his speeches seemed to say much with few words. We are told that once while the people were flocking into the theatre Phokion was walking up and down near the stage, plunged in thought. “You seem meditative, Phokion,” said one of his friends. “Yes, by Zeus,” answered he, “I am considering whether I can shorten the speech which I am going to make to the Athenians.” Demosthenes himself, who despised the other orators, when Phokion rose used to whisper to his friends, “Here comes the cleaver of my harangues.” Much of his influence, however, must be ascribed to his personal character; since a word or a gesture of a truly good man carries more weight than ten thousand eloquently argued speeches.

VI. While yet a youth Phokion especially attached himself to the general Chabrias, and followed him in his campaigns, in which he gained considerable military experience, and in some instances was able to correct the strange inequalities of his commander’s temperament. Chabrias, usually sluggish and hard to rouse, when in action became vehemently excited, and tried to outdo the boldest of his followers in acts of daring: indeed he lost his life at Chios by being the first to run his ship on shore and to try to effect a landing in the face of the enemy. Phokion, who was a man of action, and cautious nevertheless, proved most useful in stirring up Chabrias when sluggish, and again in moderating his eagerness when roused. In consequence of this, Chabrias, who was of a kindly and noble disposition, loved Phokion and promoted him to many responsible posts, so that his name became well known throughout Greece, as Chabrias entrusted him with the management of the most important military operations. At the battle of Naxos he enabled Phokion to win great glory, by placing him in command of the left wing, where the most important struggle took place, and where the victory was finally decided. As this was the first sea fight, since the capture and ruin of Athens, which the Athenians won by themselves, without allies, over other Greeks, they were greatly pleased with Chabrias, and Phokion was henceforth spoken of as a man of military genius. The battle was won during the performance of the Great Mysteries at Eleusis; and every year afterwards, on the sixteenth day of the month Boeedromion, Chabrias used to entertain the Athenians, and offer libations of wine to the gods.

VII. After this Chabrias sent Phokion to visit the islands and exact tribute from them, giving him an escort of twenty ships of war: upon which Phokion is said to have remarked, that if he was sent to fight the islanders, he should require a larger force, but that if he was going to the allies of Athens, one ship would suffice for him. He sailed in his own trireme, visited all the states, simply and unassumingly explained the objects of his mission to their leading men, and returned home with a large fleet, which the allies despatched to convey their tribute safe to Athens.

He not only esteemed and looked up to Chabrias while he lived, but after his death he took care of his family, and endeavoured to make a good man of his son Ktesippus; and though he found this youth stupid and unmanageable, he never ceased his efforts to amend his character and to conceal his faults. Once only we are told that when on some campaign the young man was tormenting him with unreasonable questions, and offering him advice as though he were appointed assistant-general, Phokion exclaimed, “O Chabrias, Chabrias, I do indeed prove myself grateful for your friendship for me, by enduring this from your son!” Observing that the public men of the day had, as if by lot, divided the duties of the war-office and of the public assembly amongst themselves, so that Eubulus, Aristophon, Demosthenes, Lykurgus, and Hypereides did nothing except make speeches to the people and bring forward bills, while Diopeithes, Menestheus, Leosthenes, and Chares rose entirely by acting as generals and by making war, Phokion wished to restore the era of Perikles, Aristeides, and Solon, statesmen who were able to manage both of these branches of the administration with equal success. Each one of those great men seemed to him, in the words of Archilochus, to have been

“A man, who served the grisly god of arms,
Yet well could comprehend the Muses’s charms.”

The tutelary goddess of Athens herself, he remarked, presided equally over war and over domestic administration, and was worshipped under both attributes.

VIII. With this object in view Phokion invariably used his political influence in favour of peace, but nevertheless was elected general more times not only than any of his contemporaries, but also than any of his predecessors: yet he never canvassed his countrymen or made any effort to obtain the office, though he did not refuse to fill it at his country’s bidding. All historians admit that he was elected general five-and-forty times, and never once missed being elected, since even when he was absent the Athenians used to send for him to come home and be elected; so that his enemies used to wonder that Phokion, who always thwarted the Athenians and never flattered them either by word or deed, should be favoured by them, and were wont to say that the Athenians in their hours of relaxation used to amuse themselves by listening to the speeches of their more lively and brilliant orators, just as royal personages are said to amuse themselves with their favourites after dinner, but that they made their appointments to public offices in a sober and earnest spirit, choosing for that purpose the most severe and sensible man in Athens, and the one too, who alone, or at any rate more than any one else, was in the habit of opposing their impulses and wishes. When an oracle was brought from Delphi and read before the assembly, which said that when all the Athenians were of one mind, one man would be opposed to the state, Phokion rose and said that he was the man in question, for he disapproved of the whole of their policy. And once when he made some remark in a speech which was vociferously applauded, and he saw the whole assembly unanimous in its approval of his words, he turned to some of his friends and said, “Have I inadvertently said something bad?”

IX. Once when the Athenians were asking for subscriptions for some festival, and all the others had paid their subscriptions, Phokion, after he had been frequently asked to subscribe, answered, “Ask these rich men: for my part I should be ashamed of myself if I were to give money to you, and not pay what I owe to this man here,” pointing to Kallikles the money-lender. As the people did not cease shouting and abusing him, he told them a fable: “A cowardly man went to the wars, and when he heard the cawing of the crows, he laid down his arms and sat still. Then he took up his arms and marched on, and they again began to caw, so he halted again. At last he said, ’You may caw as loud as you please, but you shall never make a meal of me.’” On another occasion when the Athenians wished to send him to meet the enemy, and when he refused, called him a coward, he said, “You are not able to make me brave, nor am I able to make you cowards. However, we understand one another.” At some dangerous crisis the people were greatly enraged with him, and demanded an account of his conduct as general. “I hope,” said he, “my good friends, that you will save yourselves first.” As the Athenians, when at war, were humble-spirited, and full of fears, but after peace was made became bold, and reproached Phokion for having lost them their chance of victory, he said, “You are fortunate in having a general who understands you; for if you had not, you would long ago have been ruined.” When the Athenians wished to decide some dispute about territory by arms instead of by arbitration, Phokion advised them to fight the Boeotians with words, in which they were superior, not with arms, in which they were inferior to them. Once when they would not attend to his words, or listen to him, he said, “You are able to force me to do what I do not wish, but you shall never force me to counsel what I do not approve.” When Demosthenes, one of the orators of the opposite party, said to him, “Phokion, the Athenians will kill you, if they lose their senses.” He answered, “Yes, but they will kill you, if they regain them.” When he saw Polyeuktus of Sphettus in a great heat urging the Athenians to go to war with Philip, panting and sweating profusely, as he was a very fat man, and drinking great draughts of water, he said, “Ought you to believe what this man says, and vote for war? What sort of a figure will he make in a suit of armour and with a shield to carry, when the enemy are at hand, if he cannot explain his thoughts to you without nearly choking himself?” When Lykurgus abused him freely in the public assembly and above all, reproached him with having advised the people to deliver up ten citizens to Alexander when he demanded them, he said, “I have often given the people good advice, but they will not obey me.”

X. There was one Archibiades, who was surnamed the Laconizer, who grew a great beard, wore a Spartan cloak, and affected a stern demeanour like a Spartan. Once when Phokion was being violently attacked in the assembly he called upon this man to bear witness to the truth of what he said, and to assist him. Archibiades now rose and said what he thought would please the Athenians, upon which Phokion, seizing him by the beard, exclaimed, “Why then, Archibiades, do you not shave?" When Aristogeiton, the informer, who made warlike speeches in the public assembly, and urged the people to action, came to be enrolled on the list for active service leaning on a stick, with his legs bandaged, Phokion, catching sight of him from the tribune where he stood, called out “Write down Aristogeiton, a cripple and a villain.” From this it appears strange that so harsh and ungenial a man should have been named “The Good.”

It is difficult, I imagine, but not impossible, for the same man to be like wine, both sweet and harsh: just as other men and other wines seem at first to be pleasant, but prove in the end both disagreeable and injurious to those who use them. We are told that Hypereides once said to the Athenians, “Men of Athens, do not think whether I am harsh or not, but whether I am harsh for nothing;” as if it was only covetousness that made men hated, and as if those persons were not much more generally disliked who used their power to gratify their insolence, their private grudges, their anger, or their ambition. Phokion never harmed any Athenian because he disliked him, and never accounted any man his enemy, but merely showed himself stern and inexorable to those who opposed his efforts to save his country, while in the rest of his life he was so kind and amiable to all men, that he often helped his opponents, and came to the aid of his political antagonists when they were in difficulties. Once when his friends reproached him for having interceded in court for some worthless man who was being tried, he answered that good men do not need any intercessor. When Aristogeiton, after he had been condemned, sent for Phokion, and begged him to visit him, he at once started to go to the prison; and when his friends tried to prevent him, he said, “My good sirs, let me go; for where would one wish to meet Aristogeiton rather than in prison?”

XI. Indeed, if any other generals were sent out to the allies and people of the islands, they always treated them as enemies, fortified their walls, blocked up their harbours, and sent their slaves and cattle, their women and children, into their cities for shelter; but when Phokion was in command they came out a long way to meet him with their own ships, crowned with flowers, and led him rejoicing into their cities.

XII. When Philip stealthily seized Euboea, landed a Macedonian army there, and began to win over the cities by means of their despots, Plutarchus of Eretria sent to Athens and begged the Athenians to rescue the island from the Macedonians. Phokion was now sent thither in command of a small force, as it was expected that the people of the country would rally round him. He found, however, nothing but treachery and corruption, as all patriotism had been undermined by the bribes of Philip, and soon was brought into great danger. He established himself upon a hill which was cut off by a ravine from the plain near the city of Tamynae, and there collected the most trustworthy part of his forces, bidding his officers take no heed of the undisciplined mass of talkers and cowards who deserted from his camp and made their way home, observing that they were useless in action because they would not obey orders, and only hindered the fighting men, while at Athens the consciousness of their baseness would prevent their bringing false accusations against him.

XIII. When the enemy drew near, he ordered his troops to remain quiet under arms until he had finished offering sacrifice. Either the sacrifices were unfavourable, or else he designedly wasted time, wishing to bring the enemy as close as possible. The result was that Plutarchus, imagining that the Athenians were terror-stricken and hanging back, rushed to attack the enemy at the head of the Euboeans. Seeing this, the Athenian cavalry could no longer endure to remain idle, but charged at once, pouring out of their camp in scattered bodies and with much confusion. These first troops were defeated, and Plutarchus himself took to flight. Some of the enemy now came close up to the rampart of the Athenian camp, and began to tear down the stakes of which it was formed as though they were already completely victorious.

At this crisis the sacrifices proved favourable, and the Athenian infantry, sallying out of their camp, routed and overthrew all whom they found near their ramparts. Phokion now ordered his main body to remain in reserve, in order to give those who had been scattered in the former skirmish a point to rally on, while he himself, with some picked men, charged the enemy. A severe battle now took place, in which all exerted themselves with the most reckless bravery. Thallus, the son of Kineas, and Glaukus, the son of Polymedes, who fought by the side of the general himself, were especially distinguished. Kleophanes also did most excellent service on this occasion, for he rallied the scattered horsemen, called upon them to help their general in his utmost need, and prevailed upon them to return and complete the victory which the infantry had gained. After this, Phokion banished Plutarchus from Eretria, and captured a fort named Zaretra, which commanded the narrowest part of the island. He set free all the Greek captives, because he feared that the Athenian orators might urge the people in their anger to treat them with undue severity.

XIV. After Phokion had accomplished this, he sailed away to Athens; and the allies soon found cause to wish for his goodness and justice, while the Athenians soon learned to value his courage and military skill. Molossus, his successor, managed the war so unsuccessfully that he himself was made a prisoner by the enemy. Shortly afterwards Philip, full of great designs, proceeded with all his army to the Hellespont, in order to take Perinthus, Byzantium, and the Chersonese at one blow. The Athenians were eager to help these cities, and the orators succeeded in getting Chares sent thither in command of an army. However, when he arrived he effected nothing of importance, for the cities would not admit his troops within their walls, and viewed him with suspicion, so that he was reduced to roaming about the country, exacting contributions of money from the allies of Athens, and regarded with contempt by the enemy. Upon this the people, exasperated by the speeches of the orators, became much enraged, and regretted that they had sent any assistance to the people of Byzantium: but Phokion rose, and said that they ought not be angry with their allies for not trusting them, but with their generals for not being trustworthy. “These men,” he remarked, “make you feared even by those who cannot be saved without your assistance.”

The Athenians were much moved by these words. They repented of their anger, and ordered Phokion himself to take a second armament and proceed to the assistance of their allies on the Hellespont. The reputation of Phokion had been very great even before this, but now, since Leon, the leading man in Byzantium, who had been a fellow-student in the Academy with Phokion, made himself answerable for his good faith, the Byzantines would not permit him to carry out his intention of encamping outside their walls, but opened their gates and received the Athenians into their houses. Phokion’s men proved not only irreproachable in their conduct, but repaid the confidence which had been shown them by fighting on all occasions with the utmost bravery. Thus was Philip this time driven from the Hellespont, and regarded with contempt as a coward and a runaway, while Phokion took several of his ships, recovered some towns which had received Macedonian garrisons, and landed at various points on the coast to ravage and overrun the country, until at last he was wounded by the enemy and forced to return home.

XV. Once when the people of Megara secretly invited Phokion to come to their aid, as he was afraid that the Boeotians might hear of his intentions and cut off the proposed reinforcements, he called a meeting of the Assembly at daybreak, laid the Megarian proposals before the Athenians, and as soon as a decree had been passed to aid them, ordered the trumpet to sound, bade his troops leave the Assembly and get under arms at once, and led them straightway to Megara. The people of Megara gladly welcomed him, and he not only fortified Nisaea, but built two long walls from the city to its seaport, thus joining Megara to the sea in such a fashion that the city no longer feared its enemies by land, and cheerfully threw in its lot with the Athenians.

XVI. When Philip was viewed with hostility by every state in Greece, and other generals had been elected in Phokion’s absence to make war against him, Phokion, when he returned from his tour among the islands, advised them to make peace, and come to terms with Philip, who on his part was quite willing to do so, and feared to go to war. On this occasion a pettifogging Athenian, who spent all his time in the law courts, opposed Phokion, and said, “Do you dare, Phokion, to advise the Athenians to turn back when they have arms already in their hands?” “Yes, I do,” answered he, “and that too although I know that in time of war I shall be your master, and in time of peace you will be mine.” As Phokion did not succeed, but Demosthenes carried his point, and counselled the Athenians to fight as far as possible from Attica, he said to him: “My good sir, let us not consider where we are to fight, but how we can win the victory. If we are victorious, the war will be kept at a distance, but all the horrors of war always press closely upon the vanquished.” After the defeat, the noisy revolutionary party dragged Charidemus to the tribune, and bade him act as general. All the more respectable citizens were much alarmed at this. They appealed to the council of the Areopagus to aid them, addressed the people with tears and entreaties, and prevailed upon them to place the city under the charge of Phokion. Phokion now considered it necessary to submit with a good grace to the pleasure of Philip, and when Demades moved that Athens should share the general peace and take part in the congress of the Greek states, Phokion objected to the motion before it was known what Philip wished the Greeks to do. His opposition was fruitless, because of the critical state of affairs; but when afterwards he saw the Athenians bitterly repenting of what they had done, because they were obliged to furnish Philip with ships of war and cavalry, he said: “It was because I feared this that I opposed the motion of Demades: but now that you have passed that motion you must not be grieved and downcast, but remember that your ancestors were sometimes independent and sometimes subject to others, but that they acted honourably in either case, and saved both their city and the whole of Greece.” On the death of Philip he opposed the wish of the Athenians to hold a festival because of the good news: for he said that it was an unworthy thing for them to rejoice, because the army which had defeated them at Chaeronea had been weakened by the loss of only one man.

XVII. When Demosthenes spoke abusively of Alexander, who was even then at the gates of Thebes, Phokion said to him, in the words of Homer,

“‘Rash man, forbear to rouse the angry chief,’

who is also a man of unbounded ambition. When he has kindled such a terrible conflagration close by, why do you wish our city to fan the flame? I, however, will not permit these men to ruin us, even though they wish it, for that is why I have undertaken the office of general.”

After Thebes was destroyed, Alexander demanded Demosthenes and his party, with Lykurgus, Hypereides, and Charidenus to be delivered up to him. The whole assembly, on hearing this proposal, cast its eyes upon Phokion, and, after calling upon him repeatedly by name, induced him to rise. Placing by his side his most beloved and trusted friend, he said: “These men have brought the city to such a pass, that if any one were to demand that Nikokles here should be delivered up to him, I should advise you to give him up. For my own part, I should account it a happy thing to die on behalf of all of you. I feel pity also, men of Athens,” said he, “for those Thebans who have fled hither for refuge; but it is enough that Greece should have to mourn for the loss of Thebes. It is better then, on behalf of both the Thebans and ourselves, to deprecate the wrath of our conqueror rather than to oppose him.”

We are told that when the decree refusing to give up the persons demanded was presented to Alexander, he flung it from him and refused to listen to the envoys; but he received a second embassy headed by Phokion, because he was told by the older Macedonians that his father had always treated him with great respect. He not only conversed with Phokion, and heard his petition, but even asked his advice. Phokion advised him, if he desired quiet, to give up war; and if he wished for glory, to turn his arms against the Persians, and leave the Greeks unmolested. Phokion conversed much with Alexander, and, as he had formed a shrewd estimate of his character, was so happy in his remarks that he entirely appeased his anger, and even led him to say that the Athenians must watch the progress of events with care, since, if anything were to happen to him, it would be their duty to take the lead in Greece. Alexander singled out Phokion in a special manner as his guest and friend, and treated him with a degree of respect which he showed to few even of his own companions. The historian Douris tells us in confirmation of this that after Alexander had conquered Darius, and had become a great man, he omitted the usual words of greeting from all his letters, except from those which he wrote to Phokion, addressing him alone as he addressed Antipater (his viceroy), with the word ‘Hail.’ This is also recorded by the historian Chares.

XVIII. With regard to money matters, all writers agree in saying that Alexander sent Phokion a hundred talents as a present. When this money arrived at Athens Phokion enquired of those who brought it why Alexander should give all this money to him alone, when there were so many other citizens in Athens? They answered, “Because he thinks that you alone are a good and honourable man.” “Then,” said Phokion, “let him allow me still to be thought so, and to remain so.” When the men who brought the treasure followed him into his house, and saw its frugal arrangements, and his wife making bread, while Phokion with his own hands drew water from the well and washed their feet, they pressed the money upon him yet more earnestly, and expressed their disappointment at his refusal, saying that it was a shameful thing for a friend of King Alexander to live so poorly. Phokion, seeing a poor old man walk by clad in a ragged cloak, asked them whether they thought him to be a worse man than that. They begged him not to say such things, but he answered. “And yet that man lives on slenderer means than mine, and finds that they suffice him. Moreover,” he continued, “if I received such a mass of gold and did not use it, I should reap no advantage from it, while, if I did use it, I should destroy both my own character and that of the giver.” So the treasure was sent back from Athens, and proved that the man who did not need such a sum was richer than he who offered it. As Alexander was displeased, and wrote to Phokion saying that he did not regard as his friends those who asked him for nothing, Phokion did not even then ask for money, but begged for the release of Echekrates the sophist, Athenodorus of Imbros, and of two Rhodians, Demaratus and Sparton, who had been arrested, and were imprisoned at Sardis. Alexander immediately set these men at liberty, and sending Kraterus to Macedonia bade him hand over to Phokion whichever he might choose of the Asiatic cities of Kius, Gergithus, Mylassa, and Elaea; showing all the more eagerness to make him a present because he was angry at his former refusal. Phokion however would not take them, and Alexander shortly afterwards died. The house of Phokion may be seen at the present day in Melite. It is adorned with plates of copper, but otherwise is very plain and simple.

XIX. We have no information about Phokion’s first wife, except that she was the sister of Kephisodotus the modeller in clay. His second wife was no less renowned in Athens for her simplicity of life then was Phokion himself for his goodness. Once when the Athenians were witnessing a new play, the actor who was to play the part of the king demanded from the choragus a large troop of richly-attired attendants, and, as he did not obtain them, refused to appear upon the stage, and kept the audience waiting: At last Melanthius, the choragus, shoved him on to the stage, exclaiming. “Do you not see the wife of Phokion there, who always goes about with only one maidservant to wait upon her, and are you going to give yourself ridiculous airs and lead our wives into extravagance?” These words were heard by the audience, and were received with great cheering and applause. Once, when an Ionian lady was displaying a coronet and necklace of gold and precious stones to her, she said, “My only ornament is that this is the twentieth year that Phokion has been elected general by the Athenians.”

XX. As his son Phokus wished to contend in the games at the Panathenaic Festival, he entered him for the horse race, not because he cared about his winning the prize, but because he thought that the youth, who was addicted to wine and of licentious life, would be benefited by the strict training and exercise which he would have to undergo. The young man won the race, and was invited by many of his friends to dine with them to celebrate his victory. Phokion excused him to all but one, with whom he permitted him to dine in honour of his success. When, however, he came to the dinner and saw footpans filled with wine and aromatic herbs offered to the guests as they entered to wash their feet in, he turned to his son, and said, “Phokus, why do you not prevent your friend from spoiling your victory.” As he wished to remove his son altogether from the influence of Athenian life he took him to Lacedaemon, and placed him with the young men who were undergoing the Spartan training there. The Athenians were vexed at this, because Phokion appeared to despise and undervalue the institutions of his own country. Once Demades said to him “Phokion, why should we not advise the Athenians to adopt the Spartan constitution; if you bid me, I am quite willing to make a speech and bring forward a motion in the assembly for doing so.” “Indeed,” answered Phokion “it would suit a man who is scented like you, and wears so rich a robe, to talk about plain Spartan fare and Lykurgus to the Athenians!”

XXI. When Alexander wrote to the Athenians ordering them to send ships of war to him, some of the orators were against doing so, and the senate asked Phokion to speak. “I say,” remarked he, “that we ought either to conquer, or else to keep on good terms with our conqueror.” “When Pytheas first began to make speeches, as he was even then fluent and impudent, Phokion said, “Will you not be silent, and remember that you are only a newly-bought servant of the people.” When Harpalus fled from Asia with a large amount of treasure and came to Athens, where all the venal politicians paid great court to him, he gave them but a very small part of his hoard, but sent a present of seven hundred talents to Phokion, placing all his other property and his person in his hands. Phokion returned a rough answer, telling Harpalus that if he continued corrupting the Athenians he would sorely repent of it. For the moment Harpalus desisted from his offers, but shortly afterwards when the Athenians were met together in the assembly he observed that those who had received his bribes all turned against him and spoke ill of him, that they might not be suspected, while Phokion, who had taken nothing from him, nevertheless showed some interest in his safety as well as in the welfare of Athens. Harpalus now was induced to pay his court to him a second time, but after assailing him on all sides found that he was impregnable by bribes. However Harpalus made a friend and companion of his son-in-law Charikles, who entirely lost his reputation in consequence, as Harpalus entrusted him with the entire management of his affairs.

XXII. Moreover, upon the death of Pythionike, the courtezan, whose lover Harpalus had been, and who had borne him a daughter, as he desired to erect a very costly monument to her memory, he appointed Charikles to superintend the building of it. Charikles was mean enough to accept this commission; and he incurred even more disgrace from the appearance of the tomb when it was completed. It stands at the present day in the precinct of Hermes, on the road from Athens to Eleusis, and cannot have cost anything like thirty talents, which sum is said to have been paid to Charikles by Harpalus for its construction. Besides this, after his death, his daughter was adopted by Charikles and Phokion, and received every attention from them. When, however, Charikles was prosecuted for having taken a share of the treasure of Harpalus, and begged Phokion to come into court and speak in his favour, Phokion refused, saying “Charikles, I chose you to be my son-in-law in all honesty.”

When Asklepiades, the son of Hipparchus, first brought the news of Alexander’s death to Athens, Demades advised the people not to believe it. Such a corpse, he declared, must have been smelt throughout the world. Phokion, seeing that the people were excited at the report, endeavoured to soothe and pacify them. Upon this many rushed to the tribune, and loudly declared that Asklepiades had brought true tidings, and that Alexander was really dead. “If,” replied Phokion, “he is dead to-day, he will be dead to-morrow and the day after, so that we may quietly, and with all the greater safety, take counsel as to what we are to do.”

XXIII. When Leosthenes plunged the city into the war for the liberation of Greece, as Phokion opposed him, he sneeringly asked him what good he had done the city during the many years that he had been general. “No small good,” retorted Phokion, “I have caused the Athenians to be buried at home in their own sepulchres.” As Leosthenes spoke in a boastful and confident manner before the public assembly, Phokion said, “Your speeches, young man, are like cypress trees; they are tall and stately, but they bear no fruit.” When Hypereides rose and asked Phokion when he would advise the Athenians to go to war; “When,” answered he, “I see young men willing to observe discipline, the rich subscribing to the expenses, and the orators leaving off embezzling the public funds.” As many admired the force which Leosthenes got together, and inquired of Phokion whether he thought that sufficient preparations had been made, he answered, “Enough for the short course; but I fear for Athens if the race of war is to be a long one, since she has no reserves, either of money, ships, or men.” The events of the war bore out the justice of his remark; for at first Leosthenes was elated by his great success, as he defeated the Boeotians in a pitched battle, and drove Antipater into Lamia. The Athenians were now full of hope, and did nothing but hold high festival to welcome the good news, and offer sacrifices of thanksgiving to the gods. Phokion, however, when asked whether he did not wish that he had done all this, answered, “Certainly I do; but I wish that quite the contrary policy had been adopted.” Again, when despatch after despatch kept arriving from the camp, announcing fresh successes, he said, “I wonder when we shall leave off being victorious.”

XXIV. After the death of Leosthenes, those who feared that, if Phokion were made commander-in-chief, he would put an end to the war, suborned an obscure person to rise in the assembly and say that, as a friend and associate of Phokion, he should advise them to spare him, and keep him safe, since they had no one else like him in Athens, and to send Antiphilus to command the army. The Athenians approved of this advice, but Phokion came forward and declared that he had never associated with the man, or had any acquaintance with him. “From this day forth, however,” said he, “I regard you as my friend and companion, for you have given advice which suits me.” When the Athenians were eager to invade Boeotia, he at first opposed them; and when some of his friends told him that he would be put to death if he always thwarted the Athenians, he answered, “I shall suffer death unjustly, if I tell them what is to their advantage, but justly if I do wrong.” When he saw that they would not give up the project, but excitedly insisted on it, he bade the herald proclaim that all Athenians who had arrived at manhood from sixty years and under, should take provisions for five days and follow him to Boeotia at once. Upon this a great disturbance took place, as the older citizens leaped to their feet, and clamoured loudly. “There is nothing strange in the proclamation,” said Phokion, “for I, who am eighty years of age, shall be with you as your general.” Thus he managed to quiet them, and induced them to give up their intention.”

XXV. As the seaboard of Attica was being plundered by Mikion, who had landed at Rhamnus with a large force of Macedonians and mercenary soldiers, and was overrunning the country, Phokion led out the Athenians to attack him. As men kept running up to him and pestering him with advice, to seize this hill, to despatch his cavalry in that direction, to make his attack in this other place, he said “Herakles, how many generals I see, and how few soldiers.” While he was arraying his hoplites in line, one of them advanced a long way in front, and then, fearing one of the enemy, retired. “Young man,” said Phokion, “are you not ashamed of having deserted two posts, that in which you were placed by your general and that in which you placed yourself?” He now charged the enemy and overthrew them, slaying Mikion himself and many others. Meanwhile the Greek army in Thessaly fought a battle with Leonnatus, who was coming to join Antipater with a Macedonian army from Asia. Antiphilus led the infantry and Menon, a Thessalian, the cavalry. In the battle Leonnatus himself was slain, and his troops defeated.

XXVI. Shortly afterwards Kraterus crossed over from Asia with a large force, and a second battle took place at Krannon. The Greeks were defeated, but not in a crushing manner or with much loss. Yet, as the Greek commanders were young men, unable to maintain discipline, and, as at the same time, Antipater was tampering with the loyalty of the cities from which the army came, the whole force broke up, and most disgracefully betrayed the cause of Grecian liberty. Antipater at once marched upon Athens with his army. Demosthenes and Hypereides at once fled from Athens, but Demades, who had not been able to pay any part of the money which he had been condemned to pay to the state (for he had been convicted of making illegal proposals on seven separate occasions, and had become disfranchised and disqualified from addressing the people), now set the laws at defiance, and proposed that ambassadors, with full powers, should be sent to Antipater to sue for peace. The people were greatly alarmed, and called upon Phokion, saying that they could trust no one else. “If I had always been trusted,” said he, “we should not now be discussing such matters as these.” The motion was carried, and Phokion was sent to Antipater, who was encamped in the Kadmeia of Thebes, and preparing to invade Attica. Phokion’s first request was that he would stay where he was and arrange terms. Upon hearing this Kraterus said, “Phokion advises us to do what is unjust, when he bids us remain here, doing evil to the country of our friends and allies, while we might do ourselves good in that of our enemies.” Antipater, however, seized him by the hand and said, “We must yield to Phokion in this.” With regard to terms, he said that he required the same terms from the Athenians which Leosthenes had demanded from himself at Lamia.

XXVII. When Phokion returned to Athens, as the people had no choice but to submit to these terms, he went back again to Thebes with the other ambassadors; for the Athenians had appointed the philosopher Xenokrates as an additional ambassador, because his virtue, wisdom, and intellectual power was so renowned that they imagined that no man’s heart could be so arrogant, cruel, and savage as not to be touched by some feeling of reverence and awe at the sight of Xenokrates.

However, their expectations were entirely disappointed by the ignorance and hatred of good men displayed by Antipater. In the first place, though he shook hands with the others, he bestowed no greeting upon Xenokrates; upon which Xenokrates is said to have remarked that Antipater did well in showing that he felt shame before him for the treatment which he was about to inflict upon the city. After this Xenokrates began to make him a speech, but Antipater would not suffer him to proceed, and by rude interruptions reduced him to silence. After Phokion and Demades had spoken, Antipater stated his willingness to make peace and become an ally of the Athenians, if they would deliver up Demosthenes, Hypereides, and some other orators to him, re-establish their original government, in which the magistrates were chosen according to property, receive a garrison in Munychia, and pay the whole expenses of the war, besides a fine. The ambassadors thought that they ought to be contented and thankful for these terms, with the exception of Xenokrates, who said, “If Antipater looks upon us as slaves, the terms are moderate; if as free men, they are severe." When Phokion earnestly begged Antipater not to send a garrison to Athens, he is said to have said in reply, “Phokion, I am willing to grant you any request you please, unless it be one which would be fatal both to you and to myself.” Some say that this is not the true version of the incident, but that Antipater enquired of Phokion whether, if he did not place a garrison in Athens, Phokion would guarantee that the city would abide by the terms of the peace, and not intrigue with a view of regaining its independence: and as Phokion was silent and hesitated how to reply, Kallimedon, surnamed ‘the crab’ a man of a fierce and anti-democratical temper, exclaimed: “If, Antipater, this man should talk nonsense, will you believe him, and not do what you have decided upon?”

XXVIII. Thus it came to pass that the Athenians received into their city a Macedonian garrison, whose commander was Menyllus, an amiable man and a friend of Phokion himself. It was thought that the sending of the garrison was a mere piece of arrogance on Antipater’s part, and to be more due to an insolent desire to show the extent of his power than to any real necessity. The time, too, at which it was sent, rendered its arrival especially galling to the Athenians: for it was during the celebration of the mysteries, on the twentieth day of the month Boedromion, that the garrison entered the city. On that day, Iacchus used to be carried in procession from Athens to Eleusis, but now the whole ritual was marred, and the Athenians sadly contrasted this celebration of the mysteries with those of former years. In earlier times, when the city was powerful and flourishing, the splendid spectacle of the celebration of the mysteries used to strike awe and terror into the hearts of the enemies of Athens, but now at these same rites the gods seemed to look on unmoved at the disasters of Greece, while the most sacred season was desecrated, and that which had been the pleasantest time of the year now served merely to remind them of their greatest misfortunes. A few years before this, the priestesses of Dodona had sent an oracular warning to Athens, bidding the Athenians guard the extremities of Artemis. In those days the fillets which are wound round the couches of the gods which are carried in the mysteries were dyed of a yellow instead of a crimson colour, and presented a corpse-like appearance, and, what was more remarkable, the fillets dyed by private persons at the same time, all were of the same colour. One of the initiated also, while washing a little pig in the harbour of Kantharus, was seized by a shark, who swallowed all the lower part of his body. By this portent, Heaven clearly intimated to the Athenians that they were to lose the lower part of their city, and their command of the sea, but to keep the upper part. As for the Macedonian garrison, Menyllus took care that the Athenians suffered no inconvenience from it; but more than twelve thousand of the citizens were disfranchised under the new constitution, on account of their poverty. Of these men, those who remained in Athens were thought to have been shamefully ill treated, while those who left the city in consequence of this measure and proceeded to Thrace, where Antipater provided them with a city and with territory, looked like the inhabitants of a town which has been taken by storm.

XXIX. The deaths of Demosthenes at Kalauria, and of Hypereides at Kleonae, which I have recounted elsewhere, very nearly led the Athenians to look back with regret upon the days of Alexander and Philip. In later times, after Antigonus had been assassinated, and his murderers had begun a career of violence and extortion, some one seeing a countryman in Phrygia digging in the ground, asked him what he was doing, the man replied with a sigh, “I am seeking for Antigonus.” Just so at this time it recurred to many to reflect on the noble and placable character of those princes, and to contrast them with Antipater, who, although he pretended to be only a private citizen, wore shabby clothes, and lived on humble fare, really tyrannized over the Athenians in their distress more grievously than either of them.

Phokion, however, managed to save many from exile, by supplicating Antipater on their behalf, and in the case of the exiles he obtained this much favour, that they were not transported quite out of Greece, beyond the Keraunian mountains and Cape Taenarus, as were the exiles from the other Greek cities, but were settled in Peloponnesus. Among these was Hagnonides, the informer. Phokion now devoted his attention to the management of the internal politics of Athens in a quiet and law-abiding fashion. He contrived to have good and sensible men always appointed as magistrates, and by excluding the noisy and revolutionary party from the public offices, made them less inclined to create a disturbance, and taught them to be content with their country as it was, and to turn their minds to agricultural pursuits. When he saw Xenokrates paying his tax as a resident alien, he wished to enrol him as a citizen; but Xenokrates refused, saying that he would not put himself under the new constitution after he had gone on an embassy to prevent its being established.

XXX. When Menyllus offered him presents, Phokion replied that he did not consider him to be a better man than Alexander, and saw no greater reason why he should accept a present now than when Alexander offered it to him. As Menyllus begged his son Phokus to accept it, Phokion said, “If Phokus alters his nature, and becomes frugal, his father’s property will be enough for him; but, as it is, nothing will satisfy him.”

He gave a sharp reply to Antipater, who asked him to perform some disgraceful service for him. “I cannot,” said he, “be Antipater’s friend and his toady at the same time.”

Antipater himself is said to have remarked that he had two friends at Athens, Phokion and Demades, the one of whom he could not persuade to take a bribe, while the other took bribes and never was satisfied. Phokion indeed considered it a great proof of his virtue that he had grown old in poverty, after having so many times been elected general of the Athenians, and having been the friend of kings; while Demades openly prided himself both upon his wealth and his contempt for the laws. Although there was a law in force at Athens at that period, which forbade foreigners to appear in a chorus, and imposed a fine of one thousand drachmas upon the choragus who allowed them to do so, Demades exhibited a chorus of one hundred foreigners, and publicly paid in the theatre a fine of a thousand drachmas for each of them. On the occasion of the marriage of his son Demeas, he said, “My boy, when I married your mother, our next-door neighbours heard nothing of it; but kings and potentates shall attend your nuptials.”

Although the Athenians tormented Phokion with requests that he would use his influence with Antipater to get the Macedonian garrison withdrawn, he always contrived to postpone making this application, either because he knew that it would not be granted, or because he thought that the fear of the Macedonian troops compelled the Athenians to live in a quiet and orderly fashion; but, on the other hand, he induced Antipater to postpone indefinitely his demand for money from the city. The Athenians now betook themselves to Demades, who eagerly promised his services, and, together with his son, started for Macedonia, to which country it seems as if he was brought by the direct agency of the gods at a time when Antipater was on a sick bed, and Kassander, who was now at the head of affairs, had discovered a letter addressed by Demades to Antigonus in Asia, inviting him to cross over into Greece and Macedonia, and free them from their dependence on an old and rotten warp -by which expression he meant to sneer at Antipater. As soon as Kassander saw Demades arrive in Macedonia he had him arrested, and first led his son close to him and then stabbed him, so that his robe was covered with his son’s blood, and then, after bitterly upbraiding him with his ingratitude and treason, killed him also.

XXXI. Antipater on his death-bed appointed Polysperchon to the supreme command, and gave Kassander the post of chiliarch, or general of the body guard. Kassander, however, instantly began to plot against Polysperchon, and taking time by the forelock, sent Nikanor in haste to supersede Menyllus, before the news of the death of Antipater became publicly known, with orders to make himself master of Munychia. This was done, and when after a few days the Athenians heard that Antipater was dead they blamed Phokion, insinuating that he had been told of the death of Antipater, but said nothing about it, and so encouraged the designs of Nikanor. Phokion took no notice of this scandalous talk, but put himself in communication with Nikanor, and prevailed upon him to treat the Athenians with mildness, and even induced him to act as president of the games, in the performance of which office he took considerable pride and incurred some expense.

XXXII. Meanwhile Polysperchon, who was now regent of the Macedonian empire, and had put down Kassander, sent a letter to the Athenians to the effect that “the king restored the democracy at Athens, and bade the Athenians govern themselves according to the customs of their fathers.” This was merely a trick to ruin Phokion, for Polysperchon, whose design, as his acts shortly afterwards proved, was to gain over the city of Athens to his side, had no hopes of succeeding in this unless Phokion were driven out of Athens; while he expected that Phokion would be driven out when all the exiled citizens returned, and when the informers and mob orators again occupied the bema. As the Athenians were excited at this intelligence, Nikanor desired to discuss the matter with them, and appeared at a conference held in Peiraeus, having received from Phokion a pledge for his personal safety. Derkyllus, the local commander, tried to seize him, but Nikanor escaped, and at once began to take measures for the defence of Peiraeus against the Athenians. Phokion, when blamed for having permitted Nikanor to escape, answered that he felt confidence in Nikanor, and did not expect that he would do any harm; and even if he did, he preferred suffering wrong to doing it. This was no doubt a most magnanimous sentiment; but when a man on such grounds risks the freedom of his country, especially when he is acting as general, I am inclined to think that he breaks an older and more important law, that, namely, of his duty to his fellow-citizens. We cannot argue that Phokion refrained from seizing Nikanor because he feared to involve his country in war, and it was absurd of him to plead that good faith and justice demanded that Nikanor should be left alone, on the understanding that he would feel bound to abstain from any acts of violence. The real truth seems to have been that Phokion had a firm belief in Nikanor’s honesty, since he refused to believe those who told him that Nikanor was plotting the capture of Peiraeus, and had sent Macedonian soldiers into Salamis, and had even corrupted some of the inhabitants in Peiraeus itself. Even when Philomelus of Lamptra moved a resolution that all Athenians should get under arms and be ready to follow their general Phokion, he refused to act, until Nikanor marched his troops out of Munychia and fortified Peiraeus with a trench and palisade.

XXXIII. When this took place Phokion, who was now quite willing to lead the Athenians to attack Nikanor, was insulted and treated with contempt; and now Alexander the son of Polysperchon arrived with a military force, nominally with the intention of assisting the citizens against Nikanor, but really meaning if possible to make himself master of the city while it was divided against itself. The exiled Athenians who accompanied him at once entered the city, and as the disfranchised inhabitants joined them, a disorderly and informal assembly was held, in which Phokion was removed from his office, and other men were appointed generals. Had it not been that Alexander and Nikanor were observed to hold frequent conferences together alone outside the walls, the city could not have been saved. Hagnonides the informer now at once began to accuse Phokion and his party of treason; upon which Charikles and Kallimedon left the city in terror, while Phokion and those of his friends who stood by him proceeded to Polysperchon himself. They were accompanied, out of regard for Phokion, by Solon of Plataea and Deinarchus of Corinth, who were thought to be intimate friends of Polysperchon. As Deinarchus was sick, they waited for some days at Elatea, and in the meantime, at the instigation of Hagnonides, although Archestratus brought forward the motion for it in the assembly, the Athenians sent an embassy to the court of Macedonia to accuse Phokion of treason. Both met Polysperchon at the same time, as he with the king was passing through a village of Phokis named Pharyges, which lies at the foot of the Akrousian mountain, now called Galate. Here Polysperchon set up the throne with the gilt ceiling, under which he placed the king and his friends. He ordered Deinarchus at once to be seized, tortured, and put to death, but he allowed the Athenians to plead their cause before him. They however made a great disturbance by contradicting and abusing one another, so that Hagnonides said, “Pack us all into one cage and send us back to Athens to be tried.” At this the king laughed, but the Macedonians and others who were present wished to hear what each side had to say, and bade the two embassies state their case. They were not, however, fairly treated, for Polysperchon several times interrupted Phokion during his speech, until at last he struck the ground with his staff in a rage and held his peace. When Hegemon too said that Polysperchon himself knew him to be a friend to the people of Athens, Polysperchon angrily exclaimed “Do not slander me to the king.” At this the king himself leaped to his feet, and would have struck Hegemon with a spear, but was quickly seized by Polysperchon, upon which the court broke up.

XXXIV. Phokion and his companions were now taken into custody: upon which such of his friends as saw this from a distance covered their faces with their cloaks and made their escape. Kleitus conducted the prisoners back to Athens, nominally to be tried there, but really already under sentence of death. The procession was a sad one, as they were brought in carts through the Kerameikus to the theatre, where Kleitus kept them until the archons had convened the assembly. From this assembly neither slaves, foreigners, nor disfranchised citizens were excluded, but every one, men and women alike, were allowed to be present and to address the people. After the king’s letter was read, in which he said that he was convinced that these men were traitors, but sent them to Athens for trial because that city was free and independent, Kleitus brought in the prisoners. At the sight of Phokion the better class of citizens covered their faces and silently wept, and one of them had the courage to rise and say that, as the king had allowed the Athenian people to conduct so important a trial, all slaves and foreigners ought to leave the assembly. The populace, however, would not hear of this, but cried, “Down with the oligarchs who hate the people.” As no other friend of Phokion dared to speak, he himself, after obtaining a hearing with difficulty, asked “Do you wish to condemn us to death justly or unjustly?” As some answered “justly,” he said, “How can you be sure of this, if you will not hear us?” As however the people paid no more attention to him, he came nearer to them and said, “For my own part, I admit that I have done wrong, and I consider that my political acts deserve to be punished with death; but, men of Athens, why will you kill these others, who have done no wrong?” When many voices answered, “Because they are your friends,” Phokion retired and held his peace. Hagnonides now read the motion which he was about to put to the meeting which called upon the people to decide by a show of hands whether the men were guilty or not; and in case they were found guilty, to put them to death.

XXXV. When this decree was read some wished to add to it that they should be put to death with torture, and bade Hagnonides send for the rack and the executioners; but Hagnonides, seeing that even the Macedonian Kleitus was disgusted at this proposal, and thought it a savage and wicked action, said, “Men of Athens, when we catch the villain Kallimedon, we will put him to the torture; but I will make no such proposal in the case of Phokion.” Upon this one of the better class cried out, “And quite right too; for if we torture Phokion, what shall we do to you?” When the decree was passed by show of hands, no one sat still, but the whole people, many of them wearing garlands of flowers, rose and voted for the death of the accused. These, besides Phokion, consisted of Nikokles, Thodippus, Hegemon, and Pythokles: while sentence of death in their absence was passed against Demetrius Phalereus, Kallimedon, Charikles, and some others.

XXXVI. When after the assembly broke up the condemned men were being taken to prison, the others threw themselves into the arms of their friends and relations, and walked along with tears and lamentations; but when they saw that the countenance of Phokion was as calm as when he used as general to be conducted in state out of the assembly, they wondered at his composure and greatness of soul. His enemies accompanied him and abused him, and one even came up to him and spat in his face. At this outrage it is said that Phokion looked towards the archons, and said, “Will no one make this fellow behave himself?” As Thodippus in prison, when he saw the hemlock being prepared, bewailed his fate, and said that he did not deserve to perish with Phokion, Phokion said, “Are you not satisfied then to die in Phokion’s company?” When one of his friends asked him if he had any message for his son Phokus, he answered, “Yes, tell him not to bear any malice against the Athenians.” When Nikokles, the most trusty of his friends, begged to be allowed to drink the poison before him, he answered, “Your request is one which it grieves me to grant; but, as I have never refused you anything in your life, I agree even to this.” When all his friends had drunk, the poison ran short, and the executioner refused to prepare any more unless he were paid twelve drachmas, the price of that weight of hemlock. After a long delay, Phokion called one of his friends to him, and, saying that it was hard if a man could not even die gratis at Athens, bade him give the man the money he wanted.

XXXVII. The day of Phokion’s death was the nineteenth of the month Munychion, and the knights rode past the prison in solemn procession to the temple of Zeus. Some of them took off their garlands from their heads, while others came in tears to the gates of the prison and looked in. All whose better feelings were not utterly overpowered by passion and hatred agreed in thinking it a very indecent proceeding not to have waited one day for the execution, and so to have avoided the pollution of the festival by the death of the prisoners. Moreover, the enemies of Phokion, as if they had not even yet satisfied their spite, passed a decree excluding his body from burial, and forbidding any Athenian to furnish fire to burn it. In consequence of this, no one of his friends dared to touch the body, but one Konopion, a man who was accustomed to deal with such cases for hire, conveyed the body beyond Eleusis, obtained fire from Megara over the Attic frontier, and burned it. Phokion’s wife, who was present with her maids, raised an empty tomb on the spot, placed the bones in her bosom, and carried them by night into her own house, where she buried them beside the hearth, saying, “To thee, dear hearth, I entrust these remains of a good man; do you restore them to his fathers’ tomb when the Athenians recover their senses.”

XXXVIII. After a short time, however, when circumstances had taught them what a protector and guardian of virtue they had lost, the Athenians set up a brazen statue of Phokion, and gave his remains a public burial. They themselves condemned and executed Hagnonides, while Phokion’s son followed Epikurus and Demophilus, who fled the country, discovered their place of refuge, and avenged himself upon them. He is said to have been far from respectable in character; and once, when attached to a common prostitute, who was the slave of a brothel-keeper, he happened to attend one of the lectures of Theodorus, who was surnamed “the atheist,” in the Lyceum. As he heard him say that “if it be noble to ransom one’s male friends from captivity, it must be equally so to ransom one’s female friends; and that, if it be right for a man to set free the man whom he loves, it must be his duty to do likewise to the woman whom he loves,” he determined to use this argument for the gratification of his own passion, and to conclude that the philosopher bade him purchase the freedom of his mistress.

The treatment of Phokion reminded the Greeks of that of Sokrates, as both the crime and the misfortune of the city in both cases was almost exactly the same.