Plutarch's Lives, Volume 3 · Plutarch
LIFE OF PHOKION.
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[622] 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[623] 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 Böedromion, Chabrias used to entertain the Athenians, and offer libations of wine to the gods.
"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[624] 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 Bœotians 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?"[625] 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 Eubœa,[626] 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 Tamynæ, 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[627] 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,[628] imagining that the Athenians were terror-stricken and hanging back, rushed to attack the enemy at the head of the Eubœans. 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."
Text from Project Gutenberg, public domain in the United States.