never so great a warrior as his father, he became very powerful.  He was as generous in his gifts as he was magnificent in his tastes.  His offerings to the oracle at Delphi were unprecedented in their value, when he sought advice as to the wisdom of engaging in war with Cyrus.  Of the three great Asian empires, Croesus now saw his father’s ally, Babylon, under a weak and dissolute ruler; Media, absorbed into Persia under the power of a valiant and successful conqueror; and his own empire, Lydia, threatened with attack by the growing ambition of Persia.  Herodotus says he “was led to consider whether it were possible to check the growing power of that people.”

It was the misfortune of Croesus to overrate his strength,—­an error often seen in the career of fortunate men, especially those who enter upon a great inheritance.  It does not appear that Croesus desired war with Persia, but he did not dread it, and felt confident that he could overcome a man whose chief conquests had been made over barbarians.  Perhaps he felt the necessity of contending with Cyrus before that warrior’s victories and prestige should become overwhelming, for the Persian monarch obviously aimed at absorbing all Asia in his empire; at any rate, when informed by the oracle at Delphi that if he fought with the Persians he would destroy a mighty empire, Croesus interpreted the response in his own favor.

Croesus made great preparations for the approaching contest, which was to settle the destiny of Asia Minor.  The Greeks were on his side, for they feared the Persians more than they did the Lydians.  With the aid of Sparta, the most warlike of the Grecian States, he advanced to meet the Persian conqueror, not however without the expostulation of some of his wisest counsellors.  One of them, according to Herodotus, ventured to address him with these plain words:  “Thou art about, O King, to make war against men who wear leather trousers and other garments of leather; who feed not on what they like, but on what they can get from a soil which is sterile and unfriendly; who do not indulge in wine, but drink water; who possess no figs, nor anything which is good to eat.  If, then, thou conquerest them, what canst thou get from them, seeing that they have nothing at all?  But if they conquer thee, consider how much that is precious thou wilt lose; if they once get a taste of our pleasant things, they will keep such a hold of them that we never shall be able to make them lose their grasp.”  We cannot consider Croesus as utterly infatuated in not taking this advice, since war had become inevitable, It was “either anvil or hammer,” as between France and Prussia in 1870-72,—­as between all great powers that accept the fortune of war, ever uncertain in its results.  The only question seems to have been who should first take the offensive in a war that had been long preparing, and in which defeat would be followed by the utter ruin of the defeated party.