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For a god wisdom is perhaps a divine meal to be swallowed at one gulp without need of mastication, and that would be the end of the story. The deities are known for their simplicity. The matter of human wisdom, however, could fill all archives on earth without ever exhausting itself. Humanity is notorious for its complexity. And men proudly say "Good things are difficult." But is wisdom a labyrinth, or "thinking makes it so"? And when did the saga of human wisdom begin and with whom? The Poet When humans contemplated Dawn for the first time, wisdom was the treasure of the poet alone. Of all men he was the wisest, for the gods had chosen his soul as receptacle of their confidences. Thus filled with inspiration divine, the poet knew better than any other man the secrets of the world. And since Apollo found more pleasure in leading the Muses than in warming his tripod, neither the inspiration of the Pythia nor that of seers could match the poet's wisdom. And since the divine is far beyond human reason, nor could anyone else follow the secret paths of sacred absurdity by means of rational thinking. The gods might have blinded the eyes of the poet, but they consented in opening his soul wide. Then mankind looked into that soul as in a mirror and was delighted at its beauty and purity, its freedom and simplicity, its justice and sense. That inexplicable vision mankind called wisdom, an unpolluted gift, a golden path to heaven. That is why also posterity acknowledged
For compared to the poet, the rest of mankind crawls in mud and blood. But "A poet is born, not made", and later the gods—for reasons unknown—must have blinded his soul as well, for the poet was inspired no longer. And his soul being exhausted, Wisdom had to rebuild her palace elsewhere. The Sage Apparently (for there is seldom certainty about anything), she rebuilt it—though not in gold as the first—in the mind of the sophoi, a sophós[1] being a man that does not need to go in pursuit of wisdom—as philosophers do—because he is already wise. He is a sage, and Antiquity knew only seven such sages, who, like fruits of a season, grew ripe at once. The Philosopher When their season was over and the sophoi had disappeared from the face of the earth, philosophers—"cloaked and bearded to command respect"—came offering wisdom yet a new abode. But since no gift had made them wise, neither from birth nor later, they must spend their nights and days in hard toil, courting wisdom with the eagerness of suitors. And being prone to make strenuous efforts to be wise, they must have taken to heart threats such as
… as if Death were nicer to a sage than to a fool; and
… as if learning always were the sweetest of possibilities in a young man's life, or as if he should "quick as time" dart along the way to wisdom … But whence this haste? Is it not also said that "Haste makes waste", and that "Hasty climbers have sudden falls"? Anyhow the philosophers, thinking of Lady Sophia as the princes of Hellas dreamt of Helen, found her "fairer than the evening air". But she, despite their advances, would have rather assisted a carpenter than favour any of them. At times, she gave a furtive kiss to some of them. Was it a token of recognition, or did she wish to "kiss him into slumbers"? Not even they could tell … Yet—"At the touching of the lips"—they fervently prayed to their lady: "make me immortal with a kiss", but
… and there she was again, shining as a distant star, aloof and aloft. But "distance lends enchantment", and so her lovers turned their aspiration for wisdom—the pursuit itself, the desire to be wise, their love of wisdom, their philo-sophy—into a virtue evocative of that derived from the intimate communion with her, which she denied them. Except for the furtive kiss, that was their only consolation; and having put their hope in the novel maxim "No man is born wise", they doubled their efforts. Later came Time, the same who "tries truth", and these "private secretaries to Nature" were caught saying one thing and doing another:
Entangled in duplicity and proof, they could but regard poetry—the clear air of Sophia's palace—as yet another ill. It was then that the phantom of Lady Philosophia—a cloud of their own making—appeared to chase the Muses along with "their sweet poison" from their cabinets, as if they had been Sirens. Yet this cloud sat on the end of their beds chanting like a true Siren philosophical verses into their unwaxed ears, and keeping them awake with expectation for the whole duration of the "immortal night", blind hope being "but the dream of those who wake." Knowledge Now, "as soon as early rosy-fingered Dawn appeared" again, many found themselves growing tired of wooing such an elusive bride while being comforted by a less fair one. And "as a sovereign remedy to all diseases" they resorted to knowledge, an ersatz resembling the true lady of their dreams. But whereas wisdom was made of one piece, knowledge came in many. And since these pieces were necessarily ignorant of each other, knowledge appeared mixed with ignorance and corrupted by it from the very moment of its hybrid epiphany. Was it a centaur? The gods know, for "they hear and see all things". But men did notice that knowledge could be taught and acquired, being, in principle, unlimited, whereas wisdom, being a gift, could neither be learned nor stolen, and was limited:
Now if pride is the price, it wouldn't perhaps be too high considering they would learn so much (even though it is said that "Pride is an unhappy possession"). But what about
What to do with this Knowledge, so perishable, so corruptible, so transitory? Today knowledgeable, tomorrow benighted … And how high is the waste mountain of Knowledge? Where are his thousand details hidden? Do his many facts sink in the waters of Lethe? … But was not Knowledge made of the same substance as Memory? Who is he? Memory's enemy, or her loving offspring? Or is this offspring, not the knowledge that "comes", but the wisdom that "lingers" with her beloved mother? Still there were, in those ancient times, men who were wise enough to "know nothing"; but others—more illustrious—adopted the notion
and while their heads became gray or bald, and their faces filled with wrinkles, and their backs bent, they looked at "everything" with screwed-up eyes, having been too long "poring over miserable books". That's how sweet it was … And when they died, someone said:
Was it that they thought that "Knowledge is no burden", or did ambition tempted them whispering in their ears "Knowledge is power"? The first must have been, let us hope, for they could not have ignored that "power corrupts". Versification and Diversification In the poetical age there was one single wisdom and that was the wisdom of the gods, the same that inspired the poet. But just as the poet had a faculty for versification, the rest of humanity enjoyed a certain ability for diversification. And when the poet was away, they discussed—in their own fancy ways—several wisdoms, as that of animals and plants, or that of mother Nature, "the parent and creator of the human race". Then they also detected wisdom in practically all fields of human activity. There came about a "political wisdom", a "mystical wisdom", a "spiritual wisdom", a "practical wisdom", or even a more general "life wisdom" that could, like a joker, serve any purpose, including that of the fool. That such a diversification appeared to turn wisdom against itself was never a disquieting thought because they noticed that no particular wisdom could forever prove to be wiser than another: that the prince could be outwitted by his maid, the mystic by the prince, the maid by the priest, and anyone by someone. Thus was the balance assured. And if someone argued that the mutual outwitting proved that both prince, maid, mystic and priest were all fools, they would answer that "No man is wise at all times", and that a single slip could not possibly obliterate his wisdom. In this manner the oneness of wisdom was forgotten, and the single wisdom was replaced by uncountable and unaccountable minor wisdoms, all of which were for the gods as the wisdom of apes is for men, that is, something that—like folly—surprises and raises laughter
General Blindness Wisdom departed at the end of the poetical age, but her memory was revered by subsequent times, especially by the "lovers of wisdom". Later again, when Lady Sophia's perfume had vanished behind her, man came to believe that she had never existed. His knowledge told him so, and he was already much like Mr. Podsnap, who had settled that "whatever he put behind him he put out of existence." Accordingly, man removed her name from the world: no longer was there "a wisdom of nature" apparent in animals or in plants, nor "a cosmic wisdom" shining from the stars. Instead blindness was thought to pervade the universe, ruling everything except man's perceptive eye. This again raises laughter, and those who cannot laugh or postpone laughter to moments of loneliness, exclaim
… but this is how man, after being a poet, became a king, thanks to the Charta of General Blindness, and much as the proverb goes: "In the country of the blind the one-eyed man is king." … That is, as the one-eyed Cyclops was king in his cave. The Labyrinth of Wisdom Antiquity has suggested several lists of the Seven Sages, for already then (in still ancient though postpoetic times) there was no agreement on the matter of wisdom:
For what is to be wise? Can a tyrant be wise? Is it wise to change and adapt, or should one cling to "equability of countenance" and remain the same? Is it wise to hide one's feelings, or just dishonest? Is it wiser to speak out wisely or to wisely remain silent, or is either alternative wise depending on opportunity? And if the counsels "No wisdom like silence" and "Silence is golden" were always obeyed, could not "Silence gives consent" come afterwards as a reproach? What is meant by "know thyself"? Should one know himself to correct his nature, or to obey it? And what does "nothing in excess" mean? When is something "an excess"? Should we suffer theft and murder if they are not "in excess" and for a good purpose? Can love or justice be excessive? And the maxim "a pledge, and ruin is near", is it not in need of elucidations too? Is not loyalty, either explicit or implicit, a form of pledge? Should we then renounce loyalty? Is wisdom a serious matter or a humorous one, or a combination of both? What about parties, singing, dancing, going to the theatre, and other similar events that make life lovely and worth living for many men and women? Has it not been also said "Better be happy than wise"? And if wisdom wages no war against happiness or joy, why then no one among the Seven Sages has ever been reported to have participated in parties and festivals, nor introduced or promoted merriment, though some of them were legislators? Is joy alien to wisdom, or is it that they thought parties and "passing round the cup" to lead inevitably to drunkenness, "hurling the furniture", mockery, insults, and crime? But could they not have said "It is good to be merry and wise," as others say? And then again, can anyone be both "merry" and "wise"? Does not merriment comes to life in the absence of wisdom? And conversely, does not wisdom spoil the best of parties?
Fools enjoy themselves, some argue, out of ignorance. But can ignorance be so evil when it allows enjoyment? Is ignorance always worse than wisdom? Do they not say "where ignorance is bliss, 'tis folly to be wise"? And also
And if wisdom were thus so harshly defying happiness, joy, and comfort, wouldn't it then deeply disturb all peace of mind, threatening to plunge life into misery? And what good is beauty without the joys of Love, and how are the merits of Love compared to those of wisdom and wit? Which of them leads "to Arcady, where all the leaves are merry"?
And if all passions were extinguished and everyone came under the rule of reason, who would then need in such a world the counsels or virtues of wisdom?
Love goes about in Folly's dress, says Bunner, since it is well known that "Love is Blind" and "rules his kingdom without a sword", relying instead upon the blindness of folly. Maybe sweet Aphrodite "makes it so" … But what about war, the dear passion of "blood-stained Ares", her mate? Would Paris have abducted Helen if he had been wise? And had Menelaus been wise, would he have sailed to Troy to fetch an unfaithful wife? And would Agamemnon have sacrificed one woman in order to fetch another if he had listened to wisdom? But had these three men been wise, how could the Trojan War ever have taken place? And without that war, which Homer could have composed either The Iliad or The Odyssey to immortalize it? Would oblivion have prevailed then? Is folly more memorable than wisdom?
Does the wisdom of the poet rely on the folly of the rest, just as they say that "fools build houses and wise men live in them"? For how could epic poetry exist without war? Then how much pleasure has its ultimate source in folly? None perhaps for those who must perish at war today … But while "War is sweet to those who have not tried it", those who'll perish not now but later may from the safe distance and for the time being, wallow in the amazing bloodshed, listen to patriotic songs, philosophize about the human condition, read about strategies, look at images of massacres, stir their emotions, and even enrich themselves. Which pleasure would they not derive from the folly of war? And do they do so for being wise, or for being as fools as those marching to war? And when they feel appalled on account of the cruelty of war, do they not still report sensational news that give them prizes, write clever essays that become bestsellers, or even make successful political careers thanks to that same folly? And why should a contemporary war raise more indignation than the outrages committed during the sack of Troy? Was Hector's body less sacred, or is it because But what about the eternity of Death? Why is it a profanation to violate the grave of someone recently deceased, but not to plunder the tomb of an ancient man? Is the former more dead than the latter? … For some reputed "wise" have even uttered curses against such dealings:
And what difference does it make if the wealth be a "wealth of gold" or a "wealth of knowledge"? Is it not one wealth turned into the other quite easily? In the eyes of this particular sage there is probably no difference, having both been acquired "by other than holy methods". But then again, is it wise to rebuke the folly of men in such a way, putting a mirror in front of humanity to let her watch an ugly face, or is it yet another form of folly?
Practical wisdom Practical wisdom is, on comparison, less labyrinthine and more easily enunciated: "He is wise enough that can keep himself warm." And Henry David Thoreau (1817-62) appears to agree, for in his Walden he asserted that
arguing that most of the trouble and anxiety is about Food, Shelter, Clothing, and Fuel, and adding that
But those four sources of warmth, however necessary, he does not count amongst the "true problems". These, he thinks, require a philosopher, although he also remarked that
a circumstance that he found disappointing. To keep warm appears, in his view, as "wise enough", but not fully wise, since the true problems of life he sets beyond the matter of warmth. And Thoreau, who thinks that warmth is more easily obtained than many ever will wish to imagine, calls unwise those who are not economical when procuring it:
… and he adds
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The eleven Seven Sages of Diogenes Laertius (Book I, Lives of Eminent Philosophers). |
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The following text is limited to these Sages )see also the table Lists of Sages). |
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The Sages and politics Diogenes Laertius has reported that Dicaearchus—a disciple of Aristotle and a learned man—was of the opinion that the Seven Sages were
and Plutarch in his Solon (Parallel Lives) says that
And it may be noticed that out of the eleven Seven Sages mentioned by Diogenes Laertius, only Bias, Cleobulus, and Myson appear to have lacked "a turn for legislation." Thales is credited with having given "excellent advice on political matters" to the Milesians; Solon is widely known for his Athenian legislation; Chilon was an ephor and an adviser in Sparta; Pittacus overthrew the tyrant of Lesbos, and later—"having brought the constitution into order"—he became ruler himself; Periander was tyrant of Corinth; Pherecydes gave, on more than one occasion, military advice; Epimenides was a plenipotentiary; and Anacharsis might have been killed for subversion. The Sages and Croesus Several or perhaps all among the sages had relations with Croesus, the rich and powerful king of Lydia, in Asia Minor. Why? Anthropological curiosity? For it cannot be on account of Croesus' excellence in "Hellenic manners", nor for hope of gaining wisdom from him. But Plato says
Anyhow all visited Croesus, even if details are lacking, for Periander is reported to have written to them:
Croesus was so enchanted with Hellenic wisdom that he instituted a prize—a tripod, a golden goblet, or perhaps a bowl—to be bestowed upon the wisest of the Greeks: The Prize of Wisdom About a certain golden tripod found by Milesian fishermen, the Pythian priestess declared in an oracle that if it be given as a prize to the wisest, the war that had broken among the Ionians would cease. The Milesians then awarded the prize to Thales, who rejected it, advising them to send it to a wiser man. In this manner the tripod came to each of the other six, who likewise rejected it. The last to receive it was Solon, who recommended to dedicate the tripod to Apollo, since the god was wisest. But Diodorus also says that Messenian fishermen once brought up, instead of fish, a brazen tripod with the inscription "To the wisest", and that they gave it to Bias. Diogenes Laertius said that those who had the tripod were certain Ionian youths, having purchased of Milesian fishermen their catch of fish. As a dispute arose they decided to consult Delphi, and the oracle declared:
Then they gave it to Thales, and the tripod went the round of all the six sages until it came to Solon, who dedicated it to Apollo at Delphi. It is also told that it was not a tripod that went round, but a bowl that Bathycles the Arcadian had left at his death to be given "to him who had done most good by his wisdom." This bowl went round from Thales to Thales again, who sent it to Apollo at Didyma. The inscribed dedication modestly declared:
Others (reported by Diogenes L.) say that a certain man receive from Croesus a golden goblet to be bestowed upon the wisest. The man gave it to Thales, who passed it to others until it came to Chilon, who asked "Who is wiser than myself?", receiving the Pythian answer: "Myson". Still others assert that Croesus gave Pittacus a bowl, beginning the round of the sages from him. And then again, others have said that the tripod was in a vessel that Periander had sent to Thrasybulus, the tyrant of Miletus. When the vessel was wrecked, some fishermen found it in Coan waters. Yet others have said that it was found in Athenian waters and given to Bias. According to another version, the tripod had been wrought by Hephaestus, who gave it to Pelops 1 as a wedding present. From him it came to Menelaus, but was carried off by Paris along with Helen, who is said to have thrown it into the Coan sea. She was persuaded that the tripod "would cause trouble", they say, as if her sudden departure from Sparta in the arms of her lover had been but a mere detail of the throwing away of the tripod … Many years later, some buyers of fish came in possession of the tripod which caused a quarrel with the fishermen (for what else can a fisherman or a buyer of fish wish but to find a tripod and perhaps use it to buy fish?). Although these Coans reported the case to Miletus, their mother-city, it could not be settled. So when the Milesians saw their ambassadors disregarded by the Coans, they resorted to war. When a certain amount of blood had been shed on account of the tripod, an oracle declared that it should be given to the wisest. Whether these men who had fought for the tripod were qualified to give an award of wisdom, no one says, but they agreed to give it to Thales. It went then the round of the sages, and came back to Thales again, who dedicated it to Apollo of Didyma, a city near Miletus. Plutarch says that Thales sent it first to Bias who gave it to another, and when it came to Thales for the second time, it was taken from Miletus to Thebes and dedicated to Ismenian Apollo. He also relates that others affirmed that the tripod was sent in the first place to Bias, and in the second place to Thales at Miletus, at the instance of Bias, and so passed through all the sages until it came again to Bias, and then was sent to Delphi. In other versions, the prize was not a tripod that could be seen at Delphi, but a bowl sent there by Croesus, or a beaker left there by Bathycles. (Dio.9.3.1-3; 9.13.2; DL.1.28ff.Plu.Sol.4.2ff.). |
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All Seven Sages are said to have applied themselves to poetry, but as everyone knows they did not surpass their predecessors in this art. They are said to have met, but the place of their meeting—whether in Corinth, Delphi, or Sardis—has been disputed. Their utterances are attributed now to one now to another, but who uttered what is not always important. Different people may say the same things, particularly if they are acquainted with each other. More important perhaps is that there is no agreement as who the sages were, a discrepancy that may arise from the variety of the accounts, or because different authors answer differently the question "Who is wise?" (see Lists of the Seven Sages). The Epitaphs and Inscriptions are according to Diogenes Laertius, as are, unless stated otherwise, the Maxims and Dialogues. Modern criticism is fond of facts and approaches truth step by step as a man walking towards the horizon. Therefore it rejects as forgery, not only part of those maxims, dialogues, inscriptions, and epitaphs, but also many details of the lives of the sages, until "new evidence surfaces". |
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Solon of Athens (c. 594 BC)
Solon is best known for his legislation, which prevented debt to cause servitude. In the opinion of Diodorus, "in wisdom and learning he surpassed all the men of his time." In matters of foreign policy he advocated war against Megara over the island of Salamis, was involved in a campaign against the city of Cirrha near Delphi, and persuaded the Athenians to acquire the Thracian Chersonesus (the peninsula separated from Asia Minor by the Dardanelles). The war against Megara, he commanded himself and won through a stratagem. Having established his legislation, he left Athens to travel abroad, spending time with the Egyptian priests, from whom, according to Plato, he heard the story of Atlantis. Afterwards he sailed to Cyprus, visited Croesus in Lydia, and Thales in Miletus. He is said to have refused tyranny for himself, and consequently when Pisistratus was established as a tyrant, Solon went into exile. Yet their political enmity never brought among them "harsh or savage feelings"
But others have said that Solon, being already old, did not leave Athens but actually became Pisistratus' counsellor and approved of many of his acts; for they say that Pisistratus, on seizing power, honoured Solon in many ways, "showing him kindness, and inviting him to his palace." Plutarch also thinks that Solon wrote a law forbidding a slave to practise gymnastics or have a boy lover, to make these matters "honorable and dignified practices". Pisistratus himself had a boy lover called Charmus. On the matter of social wealth Solon is remembered for having, through his legislation, released all those who, having borrowed money on personal security, were forced from poverty to become slaves, serfs, or day-labourers. It is told that he himself renounced his claim to a debt due to his father, encouraging others to follow his example. But whether men are serfs or not depends mostly on themselves, as also Solon discovered
Others have remarked that when it became known that Solon was determined to cancel debts, many
Other chapters of his legislation repealed the laws of Draco, who is said to have assigned the penalty of death to all transgressions, from murder to idleness or stealing fruit. This is why "Draconian laws" are said to be written, not with ink but blood. Solon appears to have given himself to grandeur also as a statesman, for it has been reported that "he attempted to reduce his laws to heroic verse" before publishing them. Political ethics, says Plutarch, was his chief philosophical interest. Another sage, Anacharsis, is said to have laughed at Solon for thinking that he could tame the injustice of the citizens by writing laws. For these, he said, were like spider's webs, capable of resisting light objects falling on them, but not large ones. But Solon replied that he would make more advantageous to respect the laws than to transgress them, thus adding profit to legality. The laws and regulations attributed to Solon are many and will not be detailed here, for laws, even when they are wise, reveal a fundamental absence of wisdom. And given that laws are thought to check folly and injustice, it could be indicative, if they become many, that men have lost the ability to control themselves. According to Plutarch, Solon was "not an admirer of wealth", but a "lover of wisdom". This is often pointed out when talking about sages, for it is known that wealth has the power to attract not only the foolish. And many may wonder why the sages seemed so eager to visit Croesus, who regarded himself, on account of his wealth, as the most fortunate man on earth. When he generously received Solon, however, the sage found fit to requite the king's hospitality with assiduous attempts to demonstrate that Croesus was not fortunate enough. For wisdom, the sage seemed to believe, should enter a man's brains even to the price of his contentment. Now, some could argue that later, when Croesus found himself in the evil plight that followed defeat, he remembered Solon, and that then he became so wise under the threat of fire that even Cyrus took him into his service. For Cyrus changed his mind on account of what Croesus told him about Solon. And that is why Plutarch says
But still, some may wonder whether it was imperative to make Croesus feel miserable when he was content. For how could Solon know that Croesus would some day need wisdom to endure and reconcile himself with an evil fortune? And Croesus was not an evil man, tempting fortune with malignity; for such a man is not likely to accept that he has been "proud and insolent", as Croesus is reported to have confessed, nor had the sage written to him:
Anyhow Aesop, the writer of fables, advised the sage on this matter thus:
To which Solon replied:
Still others think that what Solon said, or wished to say, to Croesus is that
Solon as a young man embarked in commerce. "Nothing wrong with that," says Plutarch (though in a more elegant manner), since
Yet he also points out that Solon's life style was "expensive and profuse", a reward he apparently gave himself for the "great dangers" he encountered in his voyages. Still Solon classed himself among the poor, says Plutarch; and "who doesn't?", some may ask. Solon died in Cyprus at eighty years of age (see also Croesus). (Dio.9.1.1.; DL.1.45ff.; Plu.Sol. passim). Additional link: REMEMBER, SOLON? (A young student's lament)
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Chilon of Sparta (c. 560 BC)
Chilon was made an ephor in Sparta. Diodorus says that "his life agreed with his teaching, a thing one rarely finds", and attributes to him all three Delphic maxims ("Know thyself"; "Nothing overmuch"; and "A pledge, and ruin is nigh."). He compares Chilon to many philosophers of his time, and concludes that while they were seen "uttering the noblest sentiments, but following the basest practices", Chilon was a man of integrity, keeping thought, speech, and deed in accordance with each other. He died at Pisa (Elis)of joy and weakness, after congratulating his son on an Olympic victory in boxing. (Dio.9.9.1ff.; DL.1.68ff.) |
Pittacus of Mytilene (c. 600 BC)
Pittacus started his career as a seditious man, but he succeeded in overthrowing the tyrant of Lesbos, and seized the tyranny for himself. During the war between Mytilene and Athens for the territory of Achilleis in the Troad (a small settlement where the monument of Achilles stands), he commanded the Lesbians, while Phrynon, a man who had won an Olympic victory, led the Athenians. Both agreed to meet in single combat, and it is told that Pittacus slew him after entangling him with a net that he had concealed beneath his shield. In this way he secured the territory for Mytilene. But later, as the case was brought to the arbitration of another wise man, Periander, the Athenians peacefully recovered the disputed land through him. Anyhow Pittacus was tyrant of Lesbos for ten years, during which he was an "excellent lawgiver", dealing kindly with the citizens, and preventing further wars. Diodorus calls him "gentle", "inclined to self-disparagement", "statesmanlike", "prudent", "courageous", "perfect in respect of every virtue", and having "greatness of soul" and "no trace of avarice". During his tyranny he passed a law providing that for any offence committed in a state of drunkenness the penalty should be doubled. He is said to have declined an offer of money from Croesus, arguing that he had twice as much as he wanted since after his brother's death he had inherited his estate. And once he wrote to the Lydian king:
It is told that either Bias or Pittacus deterred Croesus, who already had subjugated all the Asiatic Greeks, from building a fleet and attack the Greek islanders, by saying that these were buying ten thousand horses to march to Sardis against him. And when Croesus replied implying that he hoped they did so (since he had a powerful army in the mainland), one of the sages said to him:
On hearing this response, they say, Croesus stopped building the ships and concluded treaties of friendship instead. Pittacus believed that a man should marry within his own sphere, and not someone with more wealth or better birth. It is assumed that the advice was prompted by his own experience, for the woman he had married, being superior in birth, is said to have treated him with haughtiness. After his resignation, Pittacus lived yet another ten years. Having retired, he received from the people of Mytilene a grant of land, which he dedicated as sacred domain, cutting off a small portion for himself. It is told that he accepted the land only if every man should receive and equal part. He died in 570 BC when he was over seventy years of age. (Dio.9.11.1ff., 9.12.1ff.; DL.1.74ff.; Pittacus' maxim "It is hard to be good" is discussed in Plato's Protagoras 339c et.seq.; Strab.13.1.37-39). |
Bias of Priene (c. 570 BC)
It is not clear whether Bias belonged to a wealthy family, or if he was a simple labourer. But he was a most able speaker, using eloquence, not to gain an income, says Diodorus, but to help to those who had been wronged. And it became proverbial to say:
Bias is remembered for having ransomed from robbers some Messenian girls of distinguished families, and to have reared them as if they had been his own daughters. And when later the families of the girls found them, he gave them back without asking for any compensation, renouncing both the cost of their rearing and the ransom he had paid to the robbers. For this, they say, the girls loved him as a father. It is told that Bias deceived Alyattes (father of Croesus) when the latter was besieging Priene. He fattened two mules and drove them into the Lydian camp so that the king would believe there was abundance of provisions even for the beasts. Likewise, the sage piled up heaps of sand with a layer of corn on the top, so that Alyattes' messenger should witness the excellent condition of the city. In this manner Bias discouraged the king, and Priene remained free. Bias died in the arms of his grandson. The sage had been pleading in defence of a client, and, having finished, he reclined his head on his grandson's bosom, and died. This Bias should not be confused with the several Bias of the mythology (see Dictionary). (Dio.9.17.1ff.; DL.1.82ff.). |
Cleobulus of Rhodes (c. 600 BC)
Cleobulus from Lindus (Rhodes) was distinguished for his strength and beauty, and was said to be acquainted with Egyptian philosophy. He was the author of songs and riddles, as also was his daughter Cleobuline. Apparently, Cleobulus was the author of the inscription on the tomb of Midas:
But the poet Simonides says that no one trusting his wits will praise Cleobulus for such a passage. For the strength of a column which even mortal hands break, he argues, cannot sensibly be opposed to the forces of nature and the might of the gods. He died at seventy. (DL.1.89ff.; Strab.14.2.11). |
Periander of Corinth (625-585 BC)
Periander, son of Cypselus 2, son of Eetion 4, was tyrant of Corinth. Under his reign Arion 2 of Methymna landed on Taenarus, borne to that place by a dolphin, and this event—says Herodotus (1.23.1)—was "the most marvellous thing that happened to him in his life" (see Arion 2). It was Cypselus 2 who first won the tyranny of Corinth, his rule consisting mainly in driving many into exile, depriving others of their property, and killing the rest. He ruled thirty years, being succeeded by Periander, but an oracle at Delphi had predicted that he and his children would rule Corinth, "but not the sons of his sons". It is said that Periander began his rule in a milder mode. But later, he interpreted certain gestures of Thrasybulus, the tyrant of Miletus whom he held in high esteem, and as a result of that interpretation he became even more bloodthirsty than his father. For he thought that Thrasybulus had counselled him, as a safe way of governing the city, to slay the most outstanding citizens of Corinth. It was then that the banishments and slaughters began again; and Periander is also credited with having stripped naked all the women of Corinth, after an apparition of his dead wife had declared that she was cold and naked. To accomplish that prowess, he organized a festival of Hera, and when the women came out wearing their most beautiful garments, he surrounded them with guards, who stripped them naked, heaping their clothes in a pit and burning them while the tyrant prayed to his dead wife. In return for the warmth of the fire, the apparition consented to reveal to her husband where a certain treasure—left by a friend—was hidden. Periander was rejected as a sage, for "having turned into a harsh tyrant," as Diodorus says, and neither Plato in his list nor Plutarch in his fictive Dinner of the Seven nor Pausanias wished to have Periander's name among the wise: |
