The citizens, he says, by their folly and their greed would themselves destroy the city, but Athena, the Watcher, is there upon the hill:—
“Never by Zeus’s decree nor by will of the blessed immortals
Ruin shall come to our town, causing our city to fall.
Never, while yonder that great-hearted Guardian, sired majestic,
Pallas Athena above stretches her sheltering hands.”
In the Athenian memory as well as in these vigorous elegiacs he embedded the epithet of “Guardian” (ἐπίσκοπος) that would in after days lend significance to the great bronze statue, overlooking the city and sea, and would remain after Macedon had come and gone as a semi-official title of the goddess.
Legend tells us that Solon in his old age, when the tyranny had now come, piled his armour in front of his house door—probably near the Market-place of Pisistratus—and turned from politics to a serene enjoyment of the pleasures of ear and eye and intellect to which he had, indeed, never been a stranger. His life had always been consistent with his own epigram:—
“And still as I age, learning many a lesson.”
Like many of his countrymen subsequently, he combined active participation in public affairs with the character of poet and writer. In literature, as in political life, he had his preferences. Perhaps nothing more distinctly places him in the old Athens than his disapprobation of the Tragedy that was born in his later years. He is said to have taken Thespis to task for the falsehood of the drama. On the other hand the direct sincerity of lyric poetry accorded with his manner of thought. From Ælian’s variegated patch-work the story drifts down to us that to Solon, seated one day over his wine, his nephew sang one of Sappho’s songs. Solon at once commanded the boy to teach him the song, and when a bystander asked why he was so eager, he replied: “When I have learned it, then that I may die!”
To subsequent generations he seemed the embodiment of wisdom over against excess, and readers of Herodotus who were not troubled by the chronological difficulties must have especially enjoyed the story of his interview with Crœsus and his reproof of the rich king for his exultation in his wealth. The famous apothegm, “One must wait for the end before praising,” was repeated in one form or another by Simonides, Æschylus, and Sophocles. Of Solon’s own end a dramatic story is mentioned by Plutarch, although he refuses to lend it his credence: “That his ashes, after his body was burned, were scattered about the island of Salamis is a story absolutely mythical and incredible by reason of its outlandishness. It stands recorded, however, both by other noteworthy men and by Aristotle the philosopher.”