master of Athens. Amid the confusion and tumult of the city, Solon
retained his native courage. He appeared in public--harangued the
citizens--upbraided their blindness--invoked their courage. In his
speeches he bade them remember that if it be the more easy task to
prevent tyranny, it is the more glorious achievement to destroy it.
In his verses [228] he poured forth the indignant sentiment which a
thousand later bards have borrowed and enlarged; "Blame not Heaven for
your tyrants, blame yourselves." The fears of some, the indifference
of others, rendered his exhortations fruitless! The brave old man
sorrowfully retreated to his house, hung up his weapons without his
door, and consoled himself with the melancholy boast that "he had done
all to save his country, and its laws." This was his last public
effort against the usurper. He disdained flight; and, asked by his
friends to what he trusted for safety from the wrath of the victor,
replied, "To old age,"--a sad reflection, that so great a man should
find in infirmity that shelter which he claimed from glory.

V. The remaining days and the latter conduct of Solon are involved in
obscurity. According to Plutarch, he continued at Athens, Pisistratus
showing him the utmost respect, and listening to the counsel which
Solon condescended to bestow upon him: according to Diogenes Laertius,
he departed again from his native city [229], indignant at its
submission, and hopeless of its freedom, refusing all overtures from
Pisistratus, and alleging that, having established a free government,
he would not appear to sanction the success of a tyrant. Either
account is sufficiently probable. The wisdom of Solon might consent
to mitigate what he could not cure, or his patriotism might urge him
to avoid witnessing the changes he had no power to prevent. The
dispute is of little importance. At his advanced age he could not
have long survived the usurpation of Pisistratus, nor can we find any