Chapter 17

XXVII. Some writers argue, on chronological grounds, that Solon's meeting with Croesus must have been an invention. But I cannot think that so famous a story, which is confirmed by so many writers, and, moreover, which so truly exhibits Solon's greatness of mind and wisdom, ought to be given up because of the so-called rules of chronology, which have been discussed by innumerable persons, up to the present day, without their being ever able to make their dates agree. The story goes that Solon at Croesus's desire came to Sardis, and there felt much like a continental when he goes down to the seaside for the first time; for he thinks each river he comes to must be the sea, and so Solon, as he walked through the court and saw many of the courtiers richly attired and each of them swaggering about with a train of attendants and body-guards, thought that each one must be the king, until he was brought before the king himself, who, as far as precious stones, richly dyed clothes, and cunningly worked gold could adorn him, was splendid and admirable, indeed a grand and gorgeous spectacle to behold. When Solon was brought into his presence, he showed none of the feelings and made none of the remarks about the sight, which Croesus expected, but evidently despised such vulgar ostentation. Croesus then ordered his treasures to be exhibited to him, and all the rest of his possessions and valuables; not that Solon needed this, for the sight of Croesus himself was enough to show him what sort of man he was. When, after having seen all this, he was again brought before the king, Croesus asked him whether he knew any man more happy than himself. Solon at once answered that one Tellus, a fellow countryman of his own, was more happy. He explained that Tellus was a good man, and left a family of good sons; that he passed his life beyond the reach of want, and died gloriously in battle for his country. At this, Croesus began to think that Solon must be a cross-grained churlish fellow, if he did not measure happiness by silver and gold, but preferred the life and death of some private man of low degree to such power and empire as his. However, he asked him a second time, whether he knew any one more happy than himself, next to Tellus. Solon answered that he knew two men, Kleobis and Biton, remarkable for their love for each other and for their mother, who, as the oxen that drew their mother travelled slowly, put themselves under the yoke and drew the carriage with her in it to the temple of Here. She was congratulated by all the citizens, and was very proud of them; and they offered sacrifice, drank some wine, and then passed away by a painless death after so much glory.

"Then," asked Croesus angrily, "do you not reckon me at all among happy men?" Solon, who did not wish to flatter him, nor yet to exasperate him farther, answered, "O King of the Lydians, we Greeks have been endowed with moderate gifts, by Heaven, and our wisdom is of a cautious and homely cast, not of a royal and magnificent character; so, being moderate itself, and seeing the manifold chances to which life is exposed, it does not permit us to take a pride in our present possessions, nor to admire the good fortune of any man when it is liable to change. Strange things await every man in the unknown future; and we think that man alone happy whose life has been brought to a fortunate termination. To congratulate a man who is yet alive and exposed to the caprice of fortune is like proclaiming and crowning as victor one who has not yet run his race, for his good fortune is uncertain and liable to reversal." After speaking thus, Solon took his leave, having enraged Croesus, who could not take his good advice.

XXVIII. Aesop, the writer of the fables, who had been sent for to Sardis by Croesus and enjoyed his favour, was vexed at the king's ungracious reception of Solon, and advised him thus: "Solon," said he, "one ought either to say very little to kings or else say what they wish most to hear." "Not so," said Solon; "one should either say very little to them, or else say what is best for them to hear." So at that time Croesus despised Solon; but after he had been defeated by Cyrus, his city taken, and he himself was about to be burned alive upon a pyre erected in the presence of all the Persians and of Cyrus himself, then he thrice cried out, "Solon," as loud as he could. Cyrus, surprised at this, sent to ask what man or god Solon might be, who was invoked by a man in such extremity. Croesus, without any concealment said, "He is one of the wise men of Greece, whom I sent for, not because I wished to listen to him and learn what I was ignorant of, but in order that he might see and tell of my wealth, which I find it is a greater misfortune to lose than it was a blessing to possess. For, while I possessed it, all I enjoyed was opinion and empty talk; whereas, now the loss of it has brought me in very deed into terrible and irreparable misfortunes and sufferings. Now this man, who foresaw what might befall me, bade me look to the end of my life, and not be arrogant on the strength of a fleeting prosperity."

When this was reported to Cyrus, he being a wiser man than Croesus, and finding Solon's words strongly borne out by the example before him, not only released Croesus, but treated him with favour for the rest of his life; so that Solon had the glory of having by the same words saved one king's life and given instruction to another.

XXIX. During Solon's absence the strife of the factions at Athens was renewed; Lykurgus was the chief of the party of the Pediaei, Megakles, the son of Alkmaeon, led the Parali, and Peisistratus, the Diakrii, who were joined by the mass of the poorer classes who hated the rich. Thus the city still obeyed Solon's laws, but was longing for change, and all men hoped for a new revolution, in which they trusted to get not only their rights, but something more, and to triumph over the opposite faction. In this state of affairs Solon landed at Athens, and was received with respect by all the citizens. Although, on account of his age, he was no longer able to engage in politics as keenly as before, still he met the leaders of the various factions privately and endeavoured to arrange their differences and reconcile them to one another. Peisistratus appeared to pay more attention to him than the others, for he was crafty and pleasant of speech, a protector of the poor, and a man of moderation even in his quarrels. The qualities which he had not, he affected to possess, giving himself out to be a cautious and law-abiding man, who loved even-handed justice and was enraged at any revolutionary proceedings. Thus he deceived the people; but Solon soon saw through him, and detected his plans before any one else. He was not shocked, but endeavoured to turn him from his purpose by advice, saying to him and to others that if his desire to be first and his wish to make himself master could be removed, there would be no more excellent and virtuous citizen than Peisistratus.

At this time Thespis was beginning to introduce the drama, and the novelty of his exhibition attracted many people, although the regular contests were not yet introduced. Solon, who was fond of seeing sights and gaining knowledge, and whose old age was spent in leisure and amusements and good fellowship, went to see Thespis, who acted in his own play, as the ancient custom was. After the play was over, he asked him if he was not ashamed to tell so many lies before so many people. When Thespis answered that there was no harm in saying and doing these things in jest, Solon violently struck the ground with his stick, saying, "If we praise and approve of such jests as these, we shall soon find people jesting with our business."

XXX. When Peisistratus wounded himself and was driven into the market-place in a cart to excite the people, whom he told that he had been so treated by his enemies because he defended the constitution, and while he was surrounded by a noisy crowd of sympathisers, Solon came near him and said, "Son of Hippokrates, you are dishonourably imitating Homer's Ulysses. You are doing this to deceive your fellow citizens, while he mutilated himself to deceive the enemy." Upon this, as the people were willing to take up arms on behalf of Peisistratus, they assembled at the Pnyx, where Ariston proposed that a body-guard of fifty club-bearers should be assigned to Peisistratus. Solon opposed this, urging many arguments, like what we read in his poems:

"You hang upon a crafty speaker's words;"

and again,

"Each alone a fox in cunning, You grow stupid when you meet."

But as he saw that the poor were eager to serve Peisistratus, while the rich held back from cowardice, he went away, after saying that he was wiser than the one class, and braver than the other; wiser, namely, than those who did not understand what was going on, and braver than those who did understand, but did not dare to oppose the despotism with which they were threatened.

The people carried the proposal, and would not be so mean as to make any stipulation with Peisistratus about the number of his body-guard, but permitted him to keep as many as he pleased until he seized the Acropolis. When this took place, the city was convulsed; Megakles and the other descendants of Alkmaeon fled, but Solon, although he was now very old and had no one to stand by him, nevertheless came into the market-place and addressed the citizens, reproaching them for their folly and remissness, and urging them to make a final effort to retain their freedom. It was then that he made the memorable remark that, in former days it would have been easier for them to have prevented despotism from appearing amongst them, but that now it would be more glorious to cut it down, when it had arrived at its full growth. However, as no one listened to him, because of the general terror, he went home, armed himself, and took his post in the street outside his door, saying, "I have done all I could for my country and her laws." After this he remained quiet, though his friends urged him to leave Athens. He, however, wrote poems reproaching the Athenians--

"Through your own cowardice you suffered wrong, Blame then yourselves and not the gods for this; 'Twas you yourselves that made the tyrant strong, And rightly do you now your freedom miss."

XXXI. At this many of his friends told him that the despot would surely put him to death, and when they asked him what he trusted to, that he performed such mad freaks, he answered, "To my age." But Peisistratus, after he became established as sovereign, showed such marked favour to Solon that he even was advised by him, and received his approval in several cases. For he enforced most of Solon's laws, both observing them himself and obliging his friends to do so. Indeed, when accused of murder before the court of the Areopagus, he appeared in due form to stand his trial, but his accuser let the case fall through. He also made other laws himself, one of which is that those who are maimed in war shall be kept at the public expense. Herakleides says that this was done in imitation of Solon, who had already proposed it in the case of Thersippus. But Theophrastus tells us that it was not Solon, but Peisistratus, who made the law about idleness, by means of which he rendered the city more quiet, and the country better cultivated.

Solon also attempted to write a great poem about the fable of 'Atlantis,' which he had learned from the chroniclers of Sais particularly concerned the Athenians, but he did not finish it, not, as Plato says, for want of leisure, but rather because of his advanced age, which made him fear that the task was too great for him. His own words tell us that he had abundance of leisure--

"Old I grow, but ever learning,"

and,

"Venus and Bacchus are all my care, And the Muses, that charm the hearts of men."

Plato eagerly took in hand the scheme of the 'Atlantis,' as though it were a fine site for a palace, which had come to be his by inheritance, still unbuilt on. He placed in the beginning of it such splendid entrance-halls and vestibules as we find in no other tale or legend or poem, but, as he began the work too late, he died before he was able to finish it; so that the more we enjoy what he has written, the more we grieve over what is lost. As the temple of Olympic Zeus among the temples of Athens, so the 'Atlantis' is the only one among Plato's many noble writings that is unfinished.

Solon lived on into the reign of Peisistratus for a long time, according to Herakleides of Pontus, but less than two years, according to Phanias of Eresus. For Peisistratus became despot in the archonship of Komius, and Phanias tells us that Solon died during the archonship of Hegesistratus, Komias' successor. The story that his ashes were scattered round the island of Salamis is legendary and improbable, yet it is confirmed by many trustworthy writers, amongst whom is the philosopher Aristotle.

LIFE OF POPLICOLA.

I. As a parallel to Solon we shall take Poplicola, who was honoured with this name by the Romans, his original name having been Publius Valerius, a supposed descendant of that Valerius who in ancient times was especially instrumental in making the Romans and Sabines cease to be enemies and become one people; for it was he who persuaded the two kings to meet and make terms of peace. Valerius, a descendant of this hero, was a man of eminence in Rome, which was then ruled by the kings, because of his eloquence and wealth. He always spoke boldly on the side of justice, and assisted the poor and needy with such kindness that it was clear that, in case of a revolution, he would become the first man in the state.

Tarquinius Superbus, the king, had not come to his throne justly, but by wicked and lawless violence, and as he reigned tyrannically and insolently, the people hated him, and seized the opportunity of the death of Lucretia, after her dishonour, to drive him out. Lucius Brutus, who was determined to change the form of government, applied to Valerius first of all, and with his vigorous assistance drove out the king. After these events Valerius kept quiet, as long as it seemed likely that the people would choose a single general to replace their king, because he thought that it was Brutus's right to be elected, as he had been the leader of the revolution. However the people, disgusted with the idea of monarchy, and thinking that they could more easily endure to be ruled by two men, proposed that two consuls should be chosen. Valerius now became a candidate, hoping that he and Brutus would be elected; but he was not chosen. Brutus, instead of Valerius, whom he would have preferred, had as a colleague Tarquinius Collatinus, the husband of Lucretia, who was not a better man than Valerius, but was elected because the men in power at Rome, seeing what intrigues the exiled king was setting on foot to secure his return, wished to have for their general a man who was his sworn personal enemy.

II. Valerius, disgusted at the idea that he was not trusted to fight for his country because he had not suffered any personal wrong at the hands of the king, left the senate, refused to attend public meetings, and ceased to take any part whatever in public affairs, so that people began to fear that in his rage he might go over to the king's party and destroy the tottering edifice of Roman liberty. Brutus suspected some others besides him, and proposed on a certain day to hold a solemn sacrifice and bind the senate by an oath. Valerius, however, came cheerfully into the Forum, and was the first to swear that he would never yield anything to the Tarquins, but would fight for liberty to the death, by which he greatly delighted the senate and encouraged the leading men of the state. His acts too, immediately confirmed his words, for ambassadors came from Tarquin with specious and seductive proposals, such as he thought would win over the people, coming from a king who seemed to have laid aside his insolence and only to wish for his just rights. The consuls thought it right that these proposals should be laid before the people, but Valerius would not permit it, not wishing that the poorer citizens, to whom the war was a greater burden than the monarchy had been, should have any excuse for revolt.

III. After this came other ambassadors, announcing that Tarquin would give up his throne, put an end to the war, and only ask for his own property and that of his relatives and friends, upon which to live in exile. Many were inclined to agree to this, and amongst them Collatinus, when Brutus, an inflexible and harsh-tempered man, rushed into the Forum, calling out that his colleague was a traitor, who wished to furnish the tyrant with the means of continuing the war and recovering his throne, when he ought rather to grudge him food to keep him from starving. The citizens assembled, and Caius Minucius, a private citizen, was the first man who addressed them, encouraging Brutus, and pointing out to the Romans how much better it was that the money should be used to help them than to help their enemies. In spite of this, however, the Romans decided that, as they now possessed the liberty for which they had fought, they would not lose the additional blessing of peace for the sake of this property, but would cast it from them after the tyrant to which it belonged.

Tarquin really cared little for the property, and the demand was merely made in order to sound the people and arrange a plot for the betrayal of the state, which was managed by the ambassadors whom he had nominally sent to look after his property. These men were selling some part of it, keeping some safe, and sending some of it away, and meanwhile intrigued so successfully that they won over two of the best families in Rome, that of the Aquillii, in which were three senators, and that of the Vitellii, among whom were two. All these men were, on the mother's side, nephews of the consul Collatinus, and the Vitellii were also related to Brutus, for he had married their sister, and by her had a large family. The Vitellii, being relatives and intimate friends of the two elder sons of Brutus, induced them to take part in the conspiracy, holding out to them the hope that they might ally themselves to the great house of Tarquin, soon to be restored to the throne, and would rid themselves of their father's stupidity and harshness. By harshness, they alluded to his inexorable punishment of bad men, and the stupidity was that which he himself affected for a long time, in order to conceal his real character from the tyrant, which was made matter of reproach to him afterwards.

IV. So, after they had persuaded these young men, they conferred again with the Aquillii, and determined that all the conspirators should swear a great and terrible oath, in which a man is killed, and each person then pours a libation of his blood, and touches his entrails. The room in which they meant to do this was, as may be supposed, a dark and half-ruined one. Now a servant of the name of Vindicius happened to conceal himself in it; not that he had any designs or any knowledge of what was going on, but chancing to be in the room when the conspirators solemnly entered, he was afraid of being detected there, and so hid himself behind a chest, where he could see what was done and hear what was said by them. They agreed to assassinate both consuls, and wrote a letter to Tarquin acquainting him with their determination, which they gave to the ambassadors, who were lodging in the house of the Aquillii as their guests, and were present at this scene. After this they dispersed, and Vindicius came out from his hiding-place. He was at a loss what use to make of the discovery which Fortune had thrown in his way, for he thought it a shocking thing, as indeed it was, for him to make such a fearful revelation to Brutus about his sons, or to Collatinus about his nephews, and he would not trust any private citizen with a secret of such importance. Tormented by his secret, and unable to remain quiet, he addressed himself to Valerius, chiefly moved to do so by his affable kindly temper; for his house was open all day to those who wished to speak with him, and he never refused an interview or rejected a poor man's petition.

V. When, then, Vindicius came before him and told him all that he knew in the presence only of his wife and his brother Marcus, Valerius was astounded and horrified. He would not let the man go, but locked him up, set his wife to guard the door, and bade his brother to surround the king's quarters, to seize the letter, if possible, keeping a strict watch over all the servants there. He himself, with a large train of clients, friends and servants, went to the house of the Aquillii, who were not within. As no one expected him, he pushed into the house and found the letter lying in the ambassadors' apartments.

While he was thus employed, the Aquillii returned in haste, and assembling a force at the door endeavoured to take away the letter from him. His own party came to his assistance, and with their gowns twisted round their necks with much buffeting made their way to the Forum. The same thing happened at the king's quarters, where Marcus laid hold of another letter which was being taken thither concealed among some baggage, and brought as many of the king's party as he could into the Forum.

VI. When the consuls had put a stop to the confusion, Vindicius, at Valerius's command, was brought out of his prison, and a court was held. The letters were recognised, and the culprits had nothing to say for themselves. All were silent and downcast, and a few, thinking to please Brutus, hinted at banishment as the penalty of their crime. Collatinus by his tears, and Valerius by his silence gave them hopes of mercy. But Brutus, addressing each of his sons by name, said, "Come, Titus, come Tiberius, why do you make no answer to the charges against you?" As, after being asked thrice, they made no answer, he, turning his face to the lictors, said, "I have done my work, do yours." They immediately seized upon the young men, tore off their clothes, tied their hands behind their backs, and scourged them. Although the people had not the heart to look at so dreadful a sight, yet it is said that Brutus never turned away his head, and showed no pity on his stern countenance, but sat savagely looking on at the execution of his sons until at last they were laid on the ground and their heads severed with an axe. Then he handed over the rest of the culprits to be dealt with by his colleague, rose, and left the Forum. His conduct cannot be praised, and yet it is above censure. Either virtue in his mind overpowered every other feeling, or his sorrow was so great as to produce insensibility. In neither case was there anything unworthy, or even human in his conduct, but it was either that of a god or a brute beast. It is better, however, that we should speak in praise of so great a man rather than allow our weakness to distrust his virtue. Indeed the Romans think that even the foundation of the city by Romulus was not so great an event as the confirmation of its constitution by Brutus.