To these words of Solon, Crœsus refused both his esteem and praise, and he afterwards dismissed the philosopher with indifference. The sentiment which prompts us not to be elate with temporary bliss, but to look beyond the present moment, appeared to Crœsus neither wise nor just.
The Vision of Crœsus
Solon was no sooner departed than, as if to punish Crœsus for his arrogance in esteeming himself the happiest of mankind, a wonderful event befell him, which seemed a visitation from heaven. He saw in his sleep a vision, menacing the calamity which afterwards deprived him of his son; Crœsus had two sons: the one marked by natural defect, being dumb; the other, whose name was Atys, was distinguished by his superior accomplishments. The intimation of the vision which Crœsus saw, was, that Atys should die by the point of an iron spear. Roused and terrified by his dream, he revolved the matter seriously in his mind. His first step was to settle his son in marriage: he then took from him the command of the Lydian troops, whom he before conducted in their warlike expeditions; the spears and darts, with every other kind of hostile weapon, he removed from the apartments of the men to those of the women, that his son might not suffer injury from the fall of them, as they were suspended.
Whilst the nuptials of this son employed his attention, an unfortunate homicide arrived at Sardis, a Phrygian by nation, and of the royal family. He presented himself at the palace of Crœsus, from whom he required and received expiation with the usual ceremonies. The Lydian mode of expiation nearly resembles that of the Greeks. When Crœsus had performed what custom exacted, he inquired who and whence he was.
“From what part,” said he, “of Phrygia do you come? why are you a suppliant to me? what man or woman have you slain?”—“O king,” replied the stranger, “I am the son of Gordius, who was the son of Midas. My name is Adrastus: unwillingly I have killed my brother, for which I am banished by my father, and rendered entirely destitute.”—“You come,” replied Crœsus, “of a family whom I esteem my friends. My protection shall, in return, be extended to you. You shall reside in my palace, and be provided with every necessary. You will do well not to suffer your misfortune to distress you too much.” Crœsus then received him into his family.
There appeared about this time near Olympus, in Mysia, a wild boar of an extraordinary size, which, issuing from the mountain, did great injury to the Mysians. They had frequently attacked it; but their attempts to destroy it, so far from proving successful, had been attended with loss to themselves. In the extremity, therefore, of their distress, they sent to Crœsus a message of the following import: “There has appeared among us, O king, a wild boar of a most extraordinary size, injuring us much; but to destroy which all our most strenuous endeavours have proved ineffectual. We entreat you, therefore, to send to us your son, at the head of a chosen band, with a number of dogs, to relieve us from this formidable animal.” Crœsus, remembering his dream, answered them thus: “Of my son you must forbear to make mention; him I cannot send; he is lately married, and his time and attention sufficiently employed. But a chosen band of Lydians, hunters and dogs, shall attend you; and I shall charge them to take every possible means of relieving you, as soon as possible, from the attacks of the boar.”
This answer of Crœsus satisfied the Mysians; but the young man hearing of the matter, and that his father had refused the solicitations of the Mysians for him to accompany them, hastened to the presence of the king, and spoke to him as follows: “It was formerly, sir, esteemed, in our nation, both excellent and honourable to seek renown in war, or in the hunting of wild beasts; but you now deprive me of both these opportunities of signalizing myself, without having reason to accuse me either of cowardice or sloth. Whenever I am now seen in public, how mean and contemptible shall I appear! How will my fellow-citizens, or my new wife, esteem me? what can be her opinion of the man whom she has married? Suffer me, then, sir, either to proceed on this expedition, or condescend to convince me that the motives of your refusal are reasonable and sufficient.”
“My son,” replied Crœsus, “I do not in any respect think unfavourably of your courage or your conduct. My behaviour towards you is influenced by a vision, which has lately warned me that your life will be short, and that you must perish from the wound of an iron spear. This, first of all, induced me to accelerate your nuptials, and also to refuse your presence in the proposed expedition, wishing by my caution to preserve you at least as long as I shall live. I esteem you as my only son; for your brother, on account of his infirmity, is in a manner lost to me.”
“Having had such a vision,” returned Atys to his father, “I can easily forgive your anxiety concerning me; but as you apparently misconceive the matter, suffer me to explain what seems to have escaped you. The vision, as you affirm, intimated that my death should be occasioned by the point of a spear; but what arms or spear has a wild boar, that you should dread? If, indeed, it had been told you that I was to perish by a tusk, or something of a similar nature, your conduct would have been strictly proper; but as a spear’s point is the object of your alarm, and we are not going to contend with men, I hope for your permission to join this party.”