his own brother, then the son of Crœsus, and at length slays himself on the young man's grave, is called a scion of the old Phrygian royal family of Midas and Gordius; hence there is a close connection between the fall of the Phrygian and Lydian houses. The Greeks worshipped Nemesis Adrastea, i. e. the doom which none can escape, on the Granicus, and on a mountain near Cyzicus.[14] In the tradition of the Lydians, Attys was their first king, whom Herodotus calls the son of the god Manes; according to the legend of the Phrygians and Lydians, he had been slain by a boar.[15] As we saw, the Phrygians mourned each year for the death of Attys, who had been carried off in the bloom of youth (I. 532). When death had overtaken this son, Crœsus sent to Delphi to ascertain whether his remaining son should ever receive the gift of speech; and the answer was returned that he would speak on a day of great misfortune. Thus the prescience of the Delphic priestess is brought forward in the most emphatic manner.

The overthrow of Astyages caused Crœsus to examine a whole series of oracles that he might ascertain whether they knew what was hidden from men, before he inquired whether he should march against Cyrus. Before this examination, Crœsus had sought and received many prophecies at Delphi, and now he tests not this oracle only, but many others. The mixture of belief and scepticism which would give rise to such an examination is not in itself incredible, but the manner in which the test is carried out in the narrative of Herodotus, or rather of the Delphian priesthood, is wholly beyond belief. The frivolous question—what was the king of the Lydians doing on a certain day—the drift of which was so obvious, would certainly be left unanswered by any oracle of repute which was believed to receive revelations from the gods. If we consider the nature of the Delphic prophecy, which claimed rather to announce the responses of Apollo than to bring to light the past or the future; the religious solemnity of the ceremonies, which they who would consult the oracle had to perform; the small number of the days on which the priestess spoke, we may be quite sure that the priests would have rejected the question. Herodotus cannot give the answers of the other oracles—not even the answer of Amphiaraus (which is also mentioned in the account of Nicolaus), and yet this oracle must have stood the test no less than Delphi, for Crœsus sent presents to it, and laid before it his second question. To Apollo of Miletus, whose answer to the first question Herodotus does not know, and of whom the second question is not asked, Crœsus dedicates exactly the same gifts as those sent to Apollo of Delphi after he had stood the test. Hence it is quite clear that the supposed examination of the oracles is merely a story invented by the Greeks to glorify the Delphic shrine. Crœsus fell, in spite of the splendid presents he had made to the Delphic god, on whose advice he had acted; in order to maintain the divine wisdom of the oracle against this charge, it must be proved to have knowledge of the most secret things. And it is true that Crœsus had put the oracle to the test, though in another manner, by following up the answer to his question whether he should go against the Persians, with a second question—whether his empire would continue. The story how splendidly Delphi had stood the test then received an apparently certain foundation in the hexameters about the lamb's flesh and tortoise, which was subsequently manufactured in Delphi in the name of the priestess.

The narrative of the campaign in Herodotus is obviously intended to put Crœsus in the wrong, and burden him with guilt of his own in addition to the offence of his ancestor. Sandanis warns him in vain (p. 5). Cyrus has done nothing to injure Crœsus, and therefore Crœsus is the aggressor. He crosses the Halys, invades the territory of Cyrus, in order to conquer Cappadocia and avenge Astyages on Cyrus; he causes the land of the Cappadocians to be desolated; and Herodotus lays stress on the fact that this nation was quite innocent. Guilt is followed by incapacity, after the indecisive battle. Crœsus disbands his army for the singular reason that it "was inferior in numbers to that of Cyrus." He is then surprised in Sardis; the citadel is naturally ascended in the very place where in old days king Meles omitted to carry the lion which was to make the walls of Sardis impregnable, because he thought it unnecessary, the place being inaccessible. (I. 561). Crœsus is saved from instant death, because the deaf and dumb son receives his speech on a day of misfortune, as Delphi had announced. The son can not only speak, but knows how to address his father by name. The favour of the gods, who turn again to Crœsus when he has expiated the guilt of Gyges and himself by his overthrow, is shown in this miracle, and more plainly still on the funeral pyre. The wisdom of the Greeks, and of Solon, is set in the clearest light, when Crœsus in his deepest distress, on the brink of a terrible death, remembers the warning once given him by Solon. If such a recollection forms the most brilliant evidence of the insight of the Greeks, it might also give the motive for the rescue of Crœsus.

The occurrences on and at the pyre partake so strongly of the miraculous that Herodotus himself is puzzled. What reason could Cyrus, whose gentleness Herodotus himself extols, have for condemning Crœsus to a death by fire, and with him fourteen Lydian youths? Herodotus knows that fire is a god in the eyes of the Persians, and that corpses could not be burnt.[16] He says: "Cyrus either wished to offer first-fruits to some god, or to fulfil a vow, or to ascertain whether Apollo would assist the pious Crœsus." When narrating the astonishing incidents which took place on the pyre, he drops the positive tone, and continues the story with "the Lydians say." The pyre is already kindled when the question is asked by the interpreters, What is the meaning of the cry "Solon"? Crœsus is at first obstinately silent, then answers obscurely; and only after long pressure tells of his meeting with Solon, which could not be done very briefly if it was to be made intelligible to Cyrus, and the narrative had to be translated by the interpreters, as Herodotus himself relates. Then Cyrus is seized with remorse for the execution he has commanded, and the attempt is made to quench the pyre. Impossible as all this is, Crœsus at the last moment confesses that Solon is right, and Solon's deep insight moves the heart of the great sovereign of the Persians, and rescues the once prosperous but now fallen king.

In his minute account of the cremation, which, in his rhetorical manner, he connects with the recovery of speech by the deaf and dumb son, Nicolaus of Damascus felt difficulties like those in Herodotus. The law bidding the Persians not to pollute fire, nor to "burn the dead," is well known to him. He removes the contradiction by representing the cremation as taking place against the will of Cyrus, and remarks that after this incident the regulation was more strictly observed. In his story also the change is made by the mention of Solon's name. When Cyrus had ascertained what Solon had said to Crœsus, he began to weep, and saw that he