well fear that, if he himself continued within the
bounds of legality, he might fall a victim to aggressive
proceedings on the part of his antagonists. To
ward off this formidable danger, a public vote was
called for, to determine which of the two should go
into temporary banishment, retaining his property
and unvisited by any disgrace. A number of citizens,
not less than six thousand, voting secretly, and therefore
independently, were required to take part, pronouncing
upon one or other of these eminent rivals a sentence
of exile for ten years. The one who remained
became, of course, more powerful, yet less in a situation
to be driven into anti-constitutional courses than
he was before. Tragedy and comedy were now beginning
to be grafted on the lyric and choric song. First,
one actor was provided to relieve the chorus; next,
two actors were introduced to sustain fictitious characters
and carry on a dialogue in such manner that the songs
of the chorus and the interlocution of the actors
formed a continuous piece. Solon, after having
heard Thespis acting (as all the early composers did,
both tragic and comic) in his own comedy, asked him
afterward if he was not ashamed to pronounce such
falsehoods before so large an audience. And when
Thespis answered that there was no harm in saying and
doing such things merely for amusement, Solon indignantly
exclaimed, striking the ground with his stick, “If
once we come to praise and esteem such amusement as
this, we shall quickly find the effects of it in our
daily transactions.” For the authenticity
of this anecdote it would be rash to vouch, but we
may at least treat it as the protest of some early
philosopher against the deceptions of the drama:
and it is interesting as marking the incipient struggles
of that literature in which Athens afterward attained
such unrivaled excellence.
It would appear that all the laws of Solon were proclaimed,
inscribed, and accepted without either discussion
or resistance. He is said to have described them,
not as the best laws which he could himself have imagined,
but as the best which he could have induced the people
to accept. He gave them validity for the space
of ten years, during which period both the senate
collectively and the archons individually swore to
observe them with fidelity; under penalty, in case
of non-observance, of a golden statue as large as
life to be erected at Delphi. But though the
acceptance of the laws was accomplished without difficulty,
it was not found so easy either for the people to
understand and obey, or for the framer to explain
them. Every day persons came to Solon either with
praise, or criticism, or suggestions of various improvements,
or questions as to the construction of particular
enactments; until at last he became tired of this
endless process of reply and vindication, which was
seldom successful either in removing obscurity or in
satisfying complainants. Foreseeing that if he
remained he would be compelled to make changes, he