Upon this, the weights, who had never been accused of light conduct, used all their influence in urging him to proceed; when, as with one consent, the wheels began to turn, the hands began to move, the pendulum began to wag, and, to its credit, ticked as loud as ever; while a beam of the rising sun that streamed through a hole in the kitchen shutter, shining full upon the dial-plate, it brightened up as if nothing had been the matter. When the farmer came down to breakfast that morning, upon looking at the clock he declared that his watch had gained half an hour in the night. 254 Count Leo Tolstoy (1828-1910) was a Russian novelist, poet, and social reformer; author, among other important works, of War and Peace and Anna Karenina. He wrote many short stories and sketches, a number of which are markedly symbolic in character. The one that follows is a good illustration of a type of such tales pleasing to modern minds. We no longer produce the formal fable or allegory. In Tolstoy's story are two historical characters of so pronounced individuality that their names always suggest definite ideas-Croesus, riches and wordly greatness; Solon, wisdom and worldly poverty and lowliness. These ideas are brought into conflict, and the outcome allows us to see which is the basic one in Tolstoy's theory of life. Who is the happy warrior? One would merely have to quote some words from the story to have an answer. And if the reader feels the force of the answer, as Tolstoy evidently hoped he would, it means a new or at least a more distinctly held ideal of living. CROESUS AND SOLON LEO TOLSTOY In olden times-long, long before the coming of Christ-there reigned over a certain country a great king called Croesus. He had much gold and silver, and many precious stones, as well as numberless soldiers and slaves. Indeed, he thought that in all the world there could be no happier man than himself. But one day there chanced to visit the country which Croesus ruled a Greek philosopher named Solon. Far and wide was Solon famed as a wise man and a just; and, inasmuch as his fame had reached Croesus also, the king commanded that he should be conducted to his presence. Seated upon his throne, and robed in his most gorgeous apparel, Croesus asked of Solon: "Have you ever seen aught more splendid than this?" "Of a surety have I," replied Solon. "Peacocks, cocks, and pheasants glitter with colors so diverse and so brilliant that no art can compare with them." Croesus was silent as he thought to himself: "Since this is not enough, I must show him something more, to surprise him." So he exhibited the whole of his riches before Solon's eyes, as well as boasted of the number of foes he had slain, and the number of territories he had conquered. Then he said to the philosopher: "You have lived long in the world, and have visited many countries. Tell me whom you consider to be the happiest man living?" "The happiest man living I consider to be a certain poor man who lives in Athens," replied Solon. The king was surprised at this answer, for he had made certain that Solon would name him himself; yet, for all that, the philosopher had named a perfectly obscure individual! "Why do you say that?" asked Croesus. "Because," replied Solon, "the man of whom I speak has worked hard all his life, has been content with little, has reared fine children, has served his city honorably, and has achieved a noble reputation." When Croesus heard this he exclaimed: "And do you reckon my happiness as nothing, and consider that I am not fit to be compared with the man of whom you speak?" To this Solon replied: "Often it befalls that a poor man is happier than a rich man. Call no man happy until he is dead." The king dismissed Solon, for he was not pleased at his words, and had no belief in him. "A fig for melancholy!" he thought. "While a man lives he should live for pleasure." So he forgot about Solon entirely. Not long afterwards the king's son went hunting, but wounded himself by a mischance, and died of the wound. Next, it was told to Croesus that the powerful Emperor Cyrus was coming to make war upon him. So Croesus went out against Cyrus with a great army, but the enemy proved the stronger, and, having won the battle and shattered Croesus' forces, penetrated to the capital. Then the foreign soldiers began to pillage all King Croesus' riches, and to slay the inhabitants, and to sack and fire the city. One soldier seized Croesus himself, and was just about to stab him, when the king's son darted forward to defend his father, and cried aloud: "Do not touch him! That is Croesus, the king!" So the soldiers bound Croesus, and carried him away to the Emperor; but Cyrus was celebrating his victory at a banquet, and could not speak with the captive, so orders were sent out for Croesus to be executed. In the middle of the city square the soldiers built a great burning-pile, and upon the top of it they placed King Croesus, bound him to a stake, and set fire to the pile. Croesus gazed around him, upon his city and upon his palace. Then he remembered the words of the Greek philosopher, and, bursting into tears, could only say: "Ah, Solon, Solon!" The soldiers were closing in about the pile when the Emperor Cyrus arrived in person to view the execution. As he did so he caught these words uttered by Croesus, but could not understand them. So he commanded Croesus to be taken from the pile, and inquired of him what he had just said. Croesus answered: "I was but naming the name of a wise man-of one who told me a great truth a truth that is of greater worth than all earthly riches, than all our kingly glory." And Croesus related to Cyrus his conversation with Solon. The story touched the heart of the Emperor, for he bethought him that he too was but a man, that he too knew not what Fate might have in store for him. So in the end he had mercy upon Croesus, and became his friend. BIBLIOGRAPHY I. GENERAL HANDBOOKS Bulfinch, Thomas, Mythology: The Age of Fable. Gayley, Charles Mills, Classic Myths in English Literature and in Art. II. GREEK AND ROMAN Baker, Emilie Kip, Stories of Old Greece and Rome. Baldwin, James, Old Greek Stories. Francillon, R. E., Gods and Heroes, or the Kingdom of Jupiter. Guerber, H. A., Myths of Greece and Rome. Hawthorne, Nathaniel, A Wonder-Book for Boys and Girls. Hawthorne, Nathaniel, Tanglewood Tales: A Second Wonder-Book. Kingsley, Charles, Greek Heroes. Kupfer, Grace H., Stories of Long Ago. Peabody, Josephine P., Old Greek Folk Stories. III. NORTHERN MYTHS Anderson, R. B., Norse Mythology, or The Religion of Our Forefathers. Baker, Emilie Kip, Stories of Northern Myths. Boult, Katherine F., Heroes of the Northland. IV. NATURE MYTHS ("POURQUOI" STORIES) Cook, Flora J., Nature Myths. Holbrook, Florence, The Book of Nature Myths. V. CRITICAL WORKS Cox, Sir G. W., Mythology of the Aryan Nations. 2 vols. Fiske, John, Myths and Myth-Makers. Frazer, J. G., The Golden Bough. 12 vols. Hartland, E. S., The Legend of Perseus. 3 vols. Lang, Andrew, Myth, Ritual, and Religion. 2 vols. Müller, Max, Contributions to the Science of Mythology. Spencer, Herbert, Principles of Sociology. 2 vols. SECTION VI. MYTHS INTRODUCTORY What myths are. It seems that every race of people in the period of barbarism and early civilization has created fanciful, childlike stories to explain such things as the origin of earth, sun, stars, clouds, life, death, fire, man, lower animals, and plants, and the characteristics of particular plants and animals. In most cases, if not all, they have accounted for the origin of such things by the theory that they were created by gods and super-human heroes. Among such peoples as the Greek and Norse folk, many stories also grew up regarding the gods and super-human heroes and their relations with one another and with men. All of these old stories about the creation of things and about the gods and super-human heroes are called myths. As time went on and the peoples became civilized, the original myths were regarded merely as fanciful tales, and were used to furnish characters and plots for many stories told chiefly for entertainment. Often, as in the story of Ulysses, legends of national heroes were combined with them. Even in our time such writers as Hawthorne and Kingsley and Lowell have used these old characters and plots as the basis of stories, many of which differ greatly from the original myths. Myths and other folk stories. Myths were pretty largely matters of faith to begin with. They were the basis of old-time religious beliefs, explaining to the mind of primitive man how things came to be as they are. This tendency to adopt what are to educated minds fanciful explanations of all that is beyond their understanding is easily observable in the way children explain the unknown. It seems fairly clear, on the other hand, that fairy stories were told by the folk as matter of entertainment. They did not believe that pigs actually talked, that a princess could sleep a hundred years, that a bean-stalk could grow as fast and as far as Jack's did, or that toads and diamonds could actually come out of one's mouth. It may be, as some theorists insist, that remains of myth survive in some of these fairy stories. On the whole, however, the folk believed these tales only in the sense in which we believe in a fine story such as "The Vision of Sir Launfal" or "Enoch Arden." They express the pleasing imaginings and longings of the human spirit, its ideals of character and conduct, its sense of the wonder and mystery of the universe. The fairy tale, in general, is nearer the surface of life; the myth was concerned with the most fundamental problems of the whence and the why of things. Such distinctions, however, belong to the realm of scientific scholarship. The teacher is concerned with myths simply as splendid stories that have come down to us from a time when human beings seemed to feel themselves bound into a unity with nature and all mysterious powers around them; stories that through constant repetition were rounded and perfected, and finally, through use by the poets, have reached us in a fairly systematic form. The so-called "poetic mythology" is the one of special value for our purposes. It comes to us through Ovid in the South, and does |