The Green Knight and School For Scandal: A Lesson in Deception

Deception, lies, seduction, trickery. We may use these words to describe the latest prime time sitcom, but they also describe two Great Books. In fact, the history of these devices goes back even further to the first people when Eve is deceived by the crafty serpent whose mission is to steal, kill, and destroy. Interestingly, these same tools can be used to test the hearts of man. On the surface, Sir Gawain and the Green Knight by Tolkien and School for Scandal by Sheridan are extremely different works. One is a medieval tale of the Knights of the Round Table and the other is an 18th century comedy of manners. Similarly, in each story, the climax occurs as the deception is unveiled and the hearts of the characters are revealed.

First, the mysterious Green Knight enters King Arthur’s castle wanting not war, but a “game” or a “Christmas pastime”. He challenges a knight to agree to strike ”blow for blow” with his ax and offers to be the first to receive the blow. Not a knight speaks up, so Arthur steps up to meet the challenge until Sir Gawain interrupts. He implores his uncle that “the match shall now be mine”. Sir Gawain claims that he is only honored because he is the king’s nephew and that he is the weakest, most feeble in wit, and the least loss. Gawain also states that “this affair is so foolish that it nowise befits you”. Arthur gives Gawain his blessing and the Green Knight positions himself for the fatal blow to the neck. When the ax decapitates the knight, he picks up his own head and tells Gawain to meet him at the Green Chapel in a year’s time.

As the story unfolds one year later, Gawain honors his commitment to this game and goes in search of the Green Knight. He finds a lord who can direct him to the Green Chapel and Gawain rests for several days at this castle. The lord goes hunting each day and makes a deal with Gawain that they shall exchange whatever each has gained for the day, the lord from the wood and Gawain from the castle. While the lord is hunting, his wife tries to seduce Gawain and he gracefully refuses, pointing out that she has already taken taken a husband far better than he. She settles for a courteous kiss and leaves him. When the lord returns with his catch of venison, he gives it to Gawain, who bestows a kiss on the lord. Gawain explains that he would gladly give more, but that is all he gained that day. The lord wants to know about the one who granted Gawain his kiss, but Gawain ends the inquiry by stating that was not part of the agreement. When the lord returns from the hunt the next day, he presents Gawain with the boar from his hunt, and Gawain bestows two kisses on the lord. The next day, the lady of the castle offers Gawain a costly ring to remember her, which Gawain again refuses gracefully. He has nothing of value to give in return. Additionally, the lady then offers the green girdle from her waist, which Gawain starts to refuse. As the lady continues to explain the the girdle protects the wearer from death, Gawain falls to the temptation to protect his life, for the next day he goes to meet the Green Knight. They agree to hide this from her husband and the reader thinks the deception is beginning.

But, alas, the reader and Gawain have been deceived all along by the lady and the lord, who is the Green Knight. Together, they have arranged these tests of the knight and his success will affect their meeting at the Green Chapel. At the end of the day, the lord returns with a fox and Gawain bestows three delicious kisses without revealing the green girdle. Gawain says farewell to all at the castle and is guided to the Green Chapel where the haunting sound of the Green Knight sharpening his ax permeates the forest. Gawain positions himself for the blow, but the Green Knight strikes to the side, making Gawain flinch. The Green Knight ridicules Gawain for flinching and a second blow misses as Gawain remains still. Finally, the Green Knight’s ax nicks the neck of Gawain, who jumps away to counter any further blow. Now, the Green Knight explains that he and his wife have orchestrated these encounters to test him. The first blow missed because Gawain kept his word and returned after a year. The second blow missed because he resisted the wife’s advances and surrendered all he had gained to the lord the first two days. The third blow nicked because he did not surrender the girdle on the last day. The Green Knight proclaims that Gawain is “the fair knight most faultless that e’er foot set on earth…But in this you lacked, sir, a little, and of loyalty came short. But that was for no artful wickedness, not for wooing either, but because you loved your own life; the less do I blame you.” Gawain is horribly remorseful about his choice and wears the girdle to remember is failure. We see deception used by the Green Knight to trick Gawain and the reader. Gawain’s character is tested and, although his fault is viewed as minor, he is forever humbled by his failure. The reader is also deceived. Is the character of the reader also tested through the story?

In School for Scandal, deception is also used, but Sheridan makes this clear to the reader, starting with the title. The school for scandal is lead by Lady Sneerwell who is attempting to break up Charles Surface and Marie with forged letters by Snake, hoping to have Charles for herself. She also has Joseph, Charles’ brother, working for the break-up so he can have Marie and her inheritance. Joseph enjoys a fine reputation while Charles is viewed as wild, overindulgent, and extravagant. Marie can see through Joseph’s facade and shuns his advances. Lady Sneerwell has taught Lady Teazle, the young wife of Sir Peter, the tools of malicious gossip, affairs, and backbiting, which is destroying her marriage. The play is mocking these vices in British society and the ruthless deception is obvious and used for selfish gain…until Sir Oliver enters. Joseph and Charles are Oliver’s nephews and prospective heirs and he desires to understand their true character since reports about them are conflicting. He has not seen his nephews in many years and hides his identity from them. He poses as a money lender named Premium to Charles, who is in tremendous debt. Charles auctions all of the family portraits to Premium, but will not part with the one portrait of his uncle. Charles proclaims, “No, hang it. I will not part with poor Noll. The old fellow has been very good to me, and, egad, I’ll keep his picture while I’ve a room to put it in.” Premium presses Charles to sell the portrait for as much as all of the rest, yet he will not succumb. Premium pays him double the price anyway and departs. Immediately, Charles sends money to old Stanley, a poor relative, and this is reported to Oliver. Now, Oliver sees Charles as honorable and charitable.

Meanwhile, Lady Teazle is caught in a rendez-vous with Joseph and hides behind a screen when her husband enters the room. Sir Peter has come to visit Joseph because he is concerned about an affair between his wife and Charles due to Lady Sneerwell’s scandalous lies and letters. As Charles comes to call, Sir Peter jumps in the closet so Joseph can question his brother about the affair. As he is hiding, he sees the dress behind the screen and Joseph explains that he is not an “absolute Joseph” and there is a French milliner waiting. Charles denies any relationship with Lady Teazle, yet suggests that Joseph and Lady Teazle were together. Joseph whispers that Sir Peter is in the closet and Charles pulls him out of the closet. Sir Peter explains that his suspicions have been relieved and he dismisses the suggestion about Joseph as a joke. Now, Lady Sneerwell is announced and Joseph leaves the room to stop her from entering. As Joseph returns, Charles is pulling the screen down to have a look at the French milliner pointed out by Sir Peter. Charles is amused at the sight of Lady Teazle and throws back lines to Sir Peter and Joseph that had been used against him. “Brother, I am sorry to find you have given that worthy man so much uneasiness! Sir Peter, there’s nothing in the world as noble as a man of sentiment.” Charles exits and Joseph tries to lie about the ordeal. Lady Teazle admits to seeking an affair with Joseph, but she repents due to the kind and generous words she overheard her husband speak.

Finally, Sir Oliver proceeds to meet Joseph as old Stanley, but Joseph refuses to help him by declaring two lies – that his uncle is so stingy that he never sends money, and he gives money to his brother so there is nothing left for Stanley. Oliver is furious and the character of the brothers is revealed through the deception. Also, Lady Sneerwell’s plan is discovered as Snake is bribed to tell the truth about the concocted relationship between Charles and Lady Teazle. So, Maria and Charles are free to pursue their relationship and Charles declares, “even scandal dies if you approve.” Although we have been aware of all the deception, we have followed the journey of Sir Oliver as he sought to discern the character of his nephews. Behind a disguise, he was able to see past the apparent flaws or assets on the Surface to see what was in the heart. Is the heart of the reader reveled, too?

It has been said that “Our character is what we do when we think no one is looking.” Deception was used to test the character of Sir Gawain, Joseph, and Charles because they thought their deeds were not being seen by the person that mattered. Their actions may have been different if they knew who was watching. So, we are given a glimpse of who they really are. The response to failure also reveals character. Joseph lies to excuse the appearances of Lady Teazle behind the screen and never admits to wrong doing. In contrast, Sir Gawain has succeeded in many tests and the most important ones. Yet, he is not proud of his success but is full of remorse about his failure. In addition, we also see the character of those who use deception. The Green Knight and Sir Oliver desired to understand the heart of another and respond accordingly without benefit to themselves. Lady Sneerwell and Joseph were purely seeking their own gain and were willing to hurt others to prevail. As we read these works, we are challenged to consider how our character will fare when tested. Is our heart pure, loyal, compassionate, trustworthy? Is there something or Someone guiding and filling our heart? How do we respond when we fail? Do we judge others by the flaws or assets on the Surface but fail to look deeper into the heart? Are our motivations concerned with what is best for another or are we consumed with our own selfish gain? The Great Books can be admired for their greatness, or we can rise to greatness as we learn from them. May our aim be the latter.


“A long habit of not thinking a thing wrong gives it a superficial appearance of being right.” —Thomas Paine

“Any of us can achieve virtue, if by virtue we merely mean the avoidance of the vices that do not attract us.” —Robert S. Lynd

“My goal in life is to be as good of a person as my dog already thinks I am.” —Author Unknown

“To speak ill of others is a dishonest way of praising ourselves. A lot of people mistake a short memory for a clear conscience.” —Doug Larson

Leadership Lessons from Across the Pond

The Prince by Machiavelli and Charles I from Hume’s History of England

Against the backdrop of his failing city-state Florence, Machiavelli writes to answer the question: “Why are we Italians so weak, unlike our Roman ancestors, and what kind of leader do we need?”

Consider the leadership of Agathocles, the Sicilian who became King of Syracuse. He tricked the people of Syracuse, murdered many of its citizens and seized the city without any civil dissension. He used wickedness to gain power. His brutality forced Carthaginians to leave Sicily in his control. Machiavelli praises him for rising above “a thousand hardships and dangers” to achieve high position.

But, we should not imitate or admire him, he argues, because it is wrong “to betray one’s friends, to be without loyalty, without mercy, without religion.” So he should be praised for his skill in rising to the top, but despised for his immoral means of getting there. These methods bring power, he writes, but never glory.

How do we justify these seemingly conflicting perspectives of Machiavelli? In the end, he doesn’t resolve it. Instead, he argues for hypocrisy, a strategy of apparently embodying the conflict itself. In chapter 18 he recommends that the prince be a “great hypocrite and dissembler,” and insists that such duplicity will triumph. Why? Because men are so simple and only obey present necessities. They only care about what affects them now, not about principle or moral correctness.

What sets the prince apart from the people is that he is not ruled by his appetites. He is able to manipulate events to his own end. He is cunning..skillful..smart. If he were writing today, Machiavelli would undoubtedly have an entire section of chapters on the presidency of Bill Clinton.

If Machiavelli argued for a moral opportunist and political pragmatist, Hume idealized the moral pragmatist and political conservative (?). Hume was asking a different, albeit related question: “Why are we English so misguided as to fight against our own government, and what kind of leaders have gotten us into this predicament?”

His question is answered, in part, by a critique of Charles I, who feels compelled to squash an insurrection in Ireland and Scotland (p. 346). But, ironically, by attempting to suppress this threat to his authority abroad, he allowed a fatal threat to his authority back home.

Parliament gained control of the regular military, so this left Charles to gather up a smaller force among his loyal followers. Then he made the mistake of going against the law of the land, opening the door for Parliament to do the same [Chapter LV, page 379]

It is remarkable how much the topics of argument were now reversed between the parties. The king, while he acknowledged his former error, of employing a plea of necessity in order to infringe the laws and constitution, warned the parliament not to imitate an example on which they threw such violent blame; and the parliament, while they clothed their personal fears or ambition under the appearance of national and imminent danger, made unknowingly an apology for the most exceptionable part of the king’s conduct. That the liberties of the people were no longer exposed to any peril from royal authority, so narrowly circumscribed, so exactly defined, so much unsupported by revenue and by military power, might be maintained upon very plausible topics: but that the danger, allowing it to have any existence, was not of that kind, great, urgent, inevitable, which dissolves all law and levels all limitations, seems apparent from the simplest view of these transactions. So obvious indeed was the king’s present inability to invade the constitution, that the fears and jealousies which operated on the people, and pushed them so furiously to arms, were undoubtedly not of a civil, but of a religious nature. The distempered imaginations of men were agitated with a continual dread of Popery, with a horror against prelacy, with an antipathy to ceremonies and the liturgy, and with a violent affection for whatever was most opposite to these objects of aversion. The fanatical spirit, let loose, confounded all regard to ease, safety, interest; and dissolved every moral and civil obligation.

Each party was now willing to throw on its antagonist the odium of commencing a civil war; but both of them prepared for an event which they deemed inevitable.

Charles I here dug his own grave. By elevating himself above the law when it seemed convenient (under the guise of necessity), he opened the door for his parliament to do the same. And since his power was already weakened by other mistakes, he was unable to recover.

These leadership mistakes broke the chain holding England together, and she simply could not find unity again until after a great civil war—a conflict that combined political power struggle with religious fervor, a catastrophe that questioned the age-old monarchy as a form of government (government by divine right no less), and a bloody slaughter that pitted a great nation’s brother against brother.

Both of these historians set leadership as their topic. Leaders are the rear view mirror they use to evaluate success and failure, virtue and catastrophe.

In Machiavelli we see the Renaissance passing on political theory to the Enlightenment, where God is no longer the author of government, but where government is a contract of the people who have a right to overthrow the government if it no longer serves them (Thomas More, John Locke, Thomas Hobbes). In Hume we see the failure of divinely appointed leaders to know their own followers and serve them in a principled manner.

There is no evidence in the creation story that man was ever designed to rule over nations, or even cities. God seemed to prefer personal relationship and being in charge himself. But in this fallen world, human leadership is a fact of life. Like the farmer who learns how to minimize weeds and maximize yields, we might as well learn to lead the best we can. And these two writers give us valuable lessons that can save our own leadership many years of pain, and our followers much grief.

Leadership is difficult. Success in leadership demands the highest morality, wisdom, courage, and self-control. To fail, only a single weakness can lead to a cascade of consequences, some of them even fatal.

Along with Machiavelli and Hume, we idealize a leader who gives the law, and abides by it. We envision a leader who speaks the truth, and lives it. We long for a leader who gives us a good life, and lives one before us. And when we meet this leader who is the Way, the Truth, and the Life, we stop looking for any merely human leader and bow down and sing with the angels, “Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lord God Almighty, who was and is, and is to come.”


Dates

1469-1527 Machiavelli
1478-1535 Thomas More, beheaded after trial for treason for denying that King Henry VIII was the Supreme Head of the Church of England
1513 Machiavelli writes The Prince
1516 More writes Utopia
1588-1679 Thomas Hobbes
1632-1704 John Locke
1642-1651 English Civil War
1651 Hobbes writes Leviathan (political theory)
1689 Locke writes Two Treatises of Government
1690 Lock writes An Essay Concerning Human Understanding
1711-1776 David Hume (Scottish philosopher and historian)
1754-1762 David Hume writes History of England

Descartes and Hume: Opposite Ends…of the Same Spectrum

This year we read philosophical works by Rene Descartes and David Hume. In their writings, both Descartes and Hume strive to answer the question, “How do we know what we know?”  Is knowledge essentially gained through reason or through experience?  While these two positions at first seem antithetical, they are actually tightly linked in that the very act of reasoning is an experience and that the processing of experiences requires reasoning.  If a being can engage in thinking, then it not only exists, but is having an experience; and if a being can question and draw inferences from its experiences, then it is reasoning.

From the seventeenth to the eighteenth century, both rationality and empiricism became hallmarks of what would later be called the period of Enlightenment.  Philosophy of existence and causality (as opposed to philosophy of morality) was as much a science as physics; understanding in one discipline would often be used to explain the other. Enlightenment thinkers championed skepticism, abstract reasoning, and testability.

In his Meditations on the First Philosophy, Descartes strives to arrive at one absolute truth which can act as the foundation for all the sciences.  In the first two meditations, through a carefully and brilliantly laid out argument, Descartes arrives at what he believes to be the one irrefutable truth: he thinks.  He can think.  Because he can think, he must exist.  Because he can conceive of himself, his mind must exist.

He proceeds in the next meditation to extend this reasoning to God. That he can conceive of God proves that God must exist.  For how could a finite being conceive of something outside itself? This concept of God must have a cause and that cause must be God Himself.

Descartes spends the rest of his time building upon this method of reasoning, extending it to the material world. He believes that the corporeal world can most accurately be apprehended through careful reasoning.  This, he believed, would lay a solid foundation for understanding all the sciences. It must be understood that this is where Descartes is headed all along.  He seeks to buttress the discoveries of science with reasoning, not demolish them.  But perhaps his defense of the existence of God obscures his intent.

It certainly seems that Hume took issue with Descartes’ defense of the existence of God.  One wonders if Hume would have denounced Descartes so viciously in ECHU if Descartes had not attempted to prove the existence of God.  Hume categorically opposes Descartes’ reasoning here, but elsewhere in Enquiry, he warns against dispelling abstract reasoning altogether.

But the importance of Hume’s writing lies in his careful exegesis of how we perceive both experiences and ideas.  He argues that experiences precede ideas.  A being can have no conception of what he has not experienced.  All thoughts, ideas, memories, even dreams, are based in experience. Causality can only be inferred, and meaning can only be conferred.

This method of understanding the world, that is conferring meaning from the observable, would set the stage for the exaltation of empiricism over reasoning.  While Hume clearly did not propose eradicating reason, the idea that facts and experience exist first and that man must connect the dots between the facts we observe has taken on gargantuan meaning in our own century.  It has become difficult to argue that anything has cause, meaning or even existence, if it cannot be observed and tested.

These two works are seminal because they raise the issues of questioning accepted institutions; accepted methods of understanding ourselves, our world and even God; and because they each introduce a systematic method of enquiry.  The influence of this kind of systematic skepticism reaches through three centuries to our own time and has become a fundamental component of 21st-century learning.

Life Journeys

As we come to the close of Year 2 in our adventure with the Great Books, I am both humbled and proud.  I am humbled as I work to put thoughts together into a meaningful contribution to the great conversation. I am proud that I have nevertheless, managed to seem worldly and wise through membership in our book club. Many people assume you are intelligent when you request a book entitled “The Ecclesiastical History of the English People.”  They think you must be brainy if you gasp at the book sale as you come across a copy of Descartes. Humility and pride are themes in the autobiographies of John Bunyan and Benjamin Franklin as well.  There are a few interesting similarities in the background summaries set forth by both men as they put to paper the story of their lives.  They were both from work-a-day families with limited resources and slight education. Each challenged himself by reading influential authors, and subsequently, both became prolific writers. Each has had amazing influence.  But their paths diverge quickly when they chronicle the ways in which they dealt with personal sin and vice in their life journeys.

Benjamin Franklin, in his autobiography, declares he was a poor boy from Boston and also makes it clear that his success was not fueled by family connections or inherited wealth, although it has been noted that he was not as bereft of connections and help as he portrays.  Nevertheless, his formal education was meager, yet he challenged himself to read and rewrite classic literature and went on to become a prolific writer.  In his autobiography, he focuses on his strengths — the glory of the self-made man.

In a similar vein, in his autobiography, John Bunyan, son of a Bedfordshire tinker, commented on his family lineage as being “of that rank that is meanest and most despised of all the families in the land”. It has been suggested that Bunyan reveals his humble origins in order to give credit to God for what he has become. Like Franklin, Bunyan’s formal education was meager, yet he also challenged himself to read such hefty works as the commentaries of Martin Luther and became a prolific writer of more than 60 books. In his autobiography he focuses on his personal weaknesses — to the glory of God.

In The Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin, we find in the title where Benjamin Franklin placed himself.  Front and center.  In his autobiography he chronicled the power of self-discipline, self-determination, self-examination, self-assurance, and self-promotion as he presents the self-made man of the new nation.  In his attempt to achieve moral perfection, he pursued acquiring the habitude of 12 virtues by sheer hard work.  As each virtue was gained, Mr. Franklin kept track in the ivory leaves of a memorandum book.  “On those lines I mark’d my faults with a black lead pencil, which marks I could easily wipe out with a wet sponge.” Literally and figuratively, he found he could wipe his own slate clean. How did this bold and arduous project end?  In defeat.  At the suggestion of a Quaker friend, Mr Franklin added a 13th virtue to his list.  Pride.  But this vice he could not conquer. “In reality, there is, perhaps, no one of our natural passions so hard to subdue as pride….for, even if I could conceive that I had completely overcome it, I should probably be proud of my humility.”

In Grace Abounding to the Chief of Sinners, we are told even in the title, where John Bunyan placed himself.  At the bottom.  In his autobiography he chronicled his struggle against sin and the everlasting temptation to place himself on the throne of worship.  He fought temptation again and again until eventually coming to an understanding of God’s grace.  Even then he continued to wrestle with guilt.  He could not wipe his slate clean.  How did this struggle end?  At the cross.  Humbled.  “I saw that I lacked a perfect righteousness to present me without fault before God, and this righteousness was nowhere to be found but in the person of Jesus Christ.”

Unlike Bunyan, It doesn’t appear that Franklin, ever plumbed the deceitfulness and treachery of his own heart. Franklin pursued virtue based on his desire to be a better person and relied on the abilities of the man rather than power of the Holy Spirit, so he stumbled in his original 12-step program to wholeness.  Unfortunately for such a great man, his faith recognized God only as the centerpiece of his religion, impersonal and powerless,and therefore Franklin relied on his own wisdom.  “So convenient a thing it is to be a reasonable creature, since it enables one to find or make a reason for everything one has a mind to do.”  Franklin embodied the very heartbeat of revolutionary America who would not bow to any king. Unable to humble himself and confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, Benjamin  Franklin is only who he says he is — a self-made man whose contributions to mankind are invaluable but whose legacy to us is the spirit of “self”.  Benjamin Franklin proudly takes us on his life journey to Philadelphia.

On the other hand, Bunyan’s change came from the conviction of the Holy Spirit.  He began to see “something of the vanity and wretchedness” of his wicked heart.  In addition, he found “there was a great difference between the faith that is feigned according to man’s wisdom and that which comes by revelation from God into a man’s spirit.”  Year after year he longed for peace and sought after truth using the Bible as his guidebook.  Scripture was his roadmap to repentance.  Through the account of his life’s journey, John Bunyan humbly presents a travelogue to the City of God.

Good  book vs. bad book?  Good man vs. bad man?  I am learning that the great books are not so easily dismissed.  The great conversation is not that simple. As we identify the faults and follies of those we read about, it becomes very apparent that there are more questions to ponder than answers to flaunt. Of course the vanity and arrogance of Ben Franklin seems foolish but unfortunately all too familiar.  Uncomfortably so. Of course our heart’s desire connects with the struggle of Bunyan to understand grace and sin, but because each of us is living out our own autobiography, life is unfolding in real time where pride and humility continue to be at odds. Self reign vs. God reign. We do not do what we want to do, and do what we don’t want to do.  These autobiographies challenge us to examine and confront our own pretensions. How do we confess our own moral lapses and less than virtuous propensities.  Where does my help come from?  Do I use a sponge and window cleaner on the whiteboard of my heart, or am I able to let the blood of Christ wash me whiter than snow. Where will my journey end? Where will yours?

Paper Topics

For the capstone, we will each write 2-3 pages highlighting a connection between two of the books on the list that we’ve read. We’ll read this paper at the capstone lunch.

Ken: Hume History part 2 (position 12) with Machiavelli Prince (4)

Pat: Machiavelli Prince (4) with Bunyan Grace Abounding (9)

John: Benjamin Franklin (14) with Socrates (0)

Wendy: School for Scandal (13) with Sir Gawain and the Green Knight (3)

Jennifer: Shakespeare Taming of the  Shrew (7) with School for Scandal (13)

Angie: Benjamin Franklin (14) with Grace Abounding (9)

Walker: Machiavelli Prince (4) with Benjamin Franklin (14)

Jeff: Beowulf (2) with Sir Gawain and the Green Knight (3)

Diana: Descartes Meditations on First Philosophy (8) with Hume’s Enquiry Concerning Human Understanding (11)

See you on June 13.

Angie’s Solon Obituary

Solon
Solon

Solon

Athenian wiseman, law-giver, lifelong learner, and citizen.

Solon, a well-known lawmaker and great advocate for the common man, died after a long battle against those pursuing selfish ambition and worldly conquest. He was 80.

Solon was born and raised in the town of Charity in the county of Kindness. His family was known for being givers, not takers. He attended the Academy of the World and pursued degrees in Learning and Experience. A degree was never bestowed, and he continued attending classes for the whole of his life.

In the 6th century B.C., as Athenian commitment to the difficult war waged to secure the Isle of Salamis waned, Solon devised a clever scheme to thwart this “disgraceful” idea of quitting. His crafty delivery of his elegiac poem called “Salamis” turned the tide of opinion and the war effort was renewed with Solon in charge. Under his cunning leadership, Athens gained the victory and Salamis. Later Solon was instrumental in overcoming the Cylonian sedition as well.

As the day to day operation of Athens became mired in quarreling between the Hill quarter, the Plainsmen, and the Sea Siders as to what sort of government should be formed, the wisest heads pressed Solon into taking up state affairs.

“Take the mid seat, and be the vessels guide; Many in Athens are on your side,” counseled an oracle from Apollo at the time.

Solon refused to be subservient the powerful men who asked for his help. Instead, concerned that the poor were being taken advantage of, he first set out to settle the injustice of debt practices. His plan for discharging debts proved sensible for debtors and creditor alike and his fame and popularity grew until he was given power over all agencies of the Athenian government.

Solon quickly got to work repealing Draco’s laws. Next he evened out the power of the magistrates by creating a jury system that gave a voice to the common people. Many other just laws were written to bring equality to all areas of public and private Athenian life. These were to be in place for 100 years.

In retirement Solon chose to travel, spending his time in studying, writing, and relocating cities. He ticked off such notables as Croesus and enjoyed the company of Aesop who because of the latter, advised him to “Let your converse with kings be either short or seasonable.”

Eventually he returned to Athens and became a consultant and popular speaker. He continued to speak against the perils of pursuing personal wealth and preeminence, the need for diligent watch over hard won liberty, and the dangers of television.

Solon was a member of the First Temple of Juno where a memorial service was held. His ashes were scattered about the Isle of Salamis.