Indeed, of all the sages of that time, Thales alone seems to have known more of physics than was necessary to supply man's every-day needs; all the others having gained their reputation for political wisdom.
IV. These wise men are said to have met at Delphi, and again at Corinth, where they were entertained by the despot Periander. Their reputation was greatly increased by the tripod which was sent to all of them and refused by all with a gracious rivalry. The story goes that some men of Cos were casting a net, and some strangers from Miletus bought the haul of them before it reached the surface.
The net brought up a golden tripod, the same which, it is said, Helen threw into the sea at that spot, in accordance with some ancient oracle, when she was sailing away from Troy. A dispute arose at first between the strangers and the fishermen; afterwards it was taken up by their respective cities, who even came to blows about it. Finally they consulted the oracle at Delphi, which ordered it to be given to the wisest. Now it was first sent to Miletus, to Thales, as the men of Cos willingly gave it to that one man, although they had fought with all the Milesians together about it. Thales said that Bias was wiser than himself, and sent it to him; and by him it was again sent to another man, as being wiser yet. So it went on, being sent from one to another until it came to Thales a second time, and at last was sent from Miletus to Thebes and consecrated to Apollo Ismenius. As Theophrastus tells the story, the tripod was first sent to Bias at Priéne, and secondly to Thales at Miletus, and so on through all of the wise men until it again reached Bias, and was finally offered at Delphi. This is the more common version of the story, although some say that it was not a tripod but a bowl sent by Croesus, others that it was a drinking-cup left behind by one Bathykles.
V. Anacharsis is said to have met Solon, and afterwards Thales in private, and to have conversed with them. The story goes that Anacharsis came to Athens, went to Solon's door, and knocked, saying that he was a stranger and had come to enter into friendship with him. When Solon answered that friendships were best made at home, Anacharsis said, "Well then, do you, who are at home, enter into friendship with me." Solon, admiring the man's cleverness, received him kindly, and kept him for some time in his house. He was at this time engaged in politics, and was composing his laws. Anacharsis, when he discovered this, laughed at Solon's undertaking, if he thought to restrain the crimes and greed of the citizens by written laws, which he said were just like spiders' webs; for, like them, they caught the weaker criminals, but were broken through by the stronger and more important.
To this Solon answered, that men keep covenants, because it is to the advantage of neither party to break them; and that he so suited his laws to his countrymen, that it was to the advantage of every one to abide by them rather than to break them. Nevertheless, things turned out more as Anacharsis thought than as Solon wished. Anacharsis said too, when present at an assembly of the people, that he was surprised to see that in Greece wise men spoke upon public affairs, and ignorant men decided them.
VI. When Solon went to Thales at Miletus, he expressed his wonder at his having never married and had a family. Thales made no answer at the time, but a few days afterwards arranged that a man should come to him and say that he left Athens ten days before. When Solon inquired of him, whether anything new had happened at Athens, the man answered, as Thales had instructed him, that "there was no news, except the death of a young man who had been escorted to his grave by the whole city. He was the son, they told him, of a leading citizen of great repute for his goodness, but the father was not present, for they said he had been travelling abroad for some years." "Unhappy man," said Solon, "what was his name?" "I heard his name," answered the man, "but I cannot remember it; beyond that there was much talk of his wisdom and justice." Thus by each of his answers he increased Solon's alarm, until he at last in his excitement asked the stranger whether it were not Solon's son that was dead. The stranger said that it was. Solon was proceeding to beat his head and show all the other marks of grief, when Thales stopped him, saying with a smile, "This, Solon, which has the power to strike down so strong a man as you, has ever prevented my marrying and having children. But be of good courage, for this tale which you have been told is untrue." This story is said by Hermippus to have been told by Pataikos, he who said that he had inherited the soul of Aesop.
VII. It is a strange and unworthy feeling that prompts a man not to claim that to which he has a right, for fear that he may one day lose it; for by the same reasoning he might refuse wealth, reputation, or wisdom, for fear of losing them hereafter. We see even virtue, the greatest and most dear of all possessions, can be destroyed by disease or evil drugs; and Thales by avoiding marriage still had just as much to fear, unless indeed he ceased to love his friends, his kinsmen, and his native land. But even he adopted his sister's son Kybisthus; for the soul has a spring of affection within it, and is formed not only to perceive, to reflect, and to remember, but also to love. If it finds nothing to love at home, it will find something abroad; and when affection, like a desert spot, has no legitimate possessors, it is usurped by bastard children or even servants, who when they have obtained our love, make us fear for them and be anxious about them. So that one may often see men, in a cynical temper, inveighing against marriage and children, who themselves shortly afterwards will be plunged into unmanly excesses of grief, at the loss of their child by some slave or concubine. Some have even shown terrible grief at the death of dogs and horses; whereas others, who have lost noble sons, made no unusual or unseemly exhibition of sorrow, but passed the remainder of their lives calmly and composedly. Indeed it is weakness, not affection, which produces such endless misery and dread to those who have not learned to take a rational view of the uncertainty of life, and who cannot enjoy the presence of their loved ones because of their constant agony for fear of losing them. We should not make ourselves poor for fear of losing our property, nor should we guard ourselves against a possible loss of friends by making none; still less ought we to avoid having children for fear that our child might die. But we have already dwelt too much upon this subject.
VIII. After a long and harassing war with the Megarians about the possession of the Island of Salamis, the Athenians finally gave up in sheer weariness, and passed a law forbidding any one for the future, either to speak or to write in favour of the Athenian claim to Salamis, upon pain of death. Solon, grieved at this dishonour, and observing that many of the younger men were eager for an excuse to fight, but dared not propose to do so because of this law, pretended to have lost his reason. His family gave out that he was insane, but he meanwhile composed a poem, and when he had learned it by heart, rushed out into the market-place wearing a small felt cap, and having assembled a crowd, mounted the herald's stone and recited the poem which begins with the lines—
"A herald I from Salamis am come,
My verse will tell you what should there be done."
The name of this poem is Salamis; it consists of a hundred beautifully written lines. After he had sung it, his friends began to commend it, and Peisistratus made a speech to the people, which caused such enthusiasm that they abrogated the law and renewed the war, with Solon as their leader. The common version of the story runs thus: Solon sailed with Peisistratus to Kolias, where he found all the women of the city performing the customary sacrifice to Demeter (Ceres). At the same time, he sent a trusty man to Salamis, who represented himself as a deserter, and bade the Megarians follow him at once to Kolias, if they wished to capture all the women of the first Athenian families. The Megarians were duped, and sent off a force in a ship. As soon as Solon saw this ship sail away from the island, he ordered the women out of the way, dressed up those young men who were still beardless in their clothes, headdresses, and shoes, gave them daggers, and ordered them to dance and disport themselves near the seashore until the enemy landed, and their ship was certain to be captured. So the Megarians, imagining them to be women, fell upon them, struggling which should first seize them, but they were cut off to a man by the Athenians, who at once sailed to Salamis and captured it.