"The force of snow and furious hail is sent From swelling clouds that load the firmament. Thence the loud thunders roar, and lightnings glare Along the darkness of the troubled air. Unmoved by storms, old Ocean peaceful sleeps Till the loud tempest swells the angry deeps. And thus the State, in full distraction toss'd, Oft by its noblest citizen is lost; And oft a people once secure and free, Their own imprudence dooms to tyranny. My laws have armed the crowd with useful might, Have banished honors and unequal right, Have taught the proud in wealth, and high in place, To reverence justice and abhor disgrace; And given to both a shield, their guardian tower, Against ambition's aims and lawless power." * * * * * III. THE USURPATION OF PISIS'TRATUS. The legislation of Solon was not followed by the total extinction of party-spirit, and, while he was absent from Athens on a visit to Egypt and other Eastern countries, the three prominent factions in the state renewed their ancient feuds. Pisistratus, a wealthy kinsman of Solon, who had supported the measures of the latter by his eloquence and military talents, had the art to gain the favor of the mass of the people and constitute himself their leader. AKENSIDE thus happily describes him as-- The great Pisistratus! that chief renowned, Whom Hermes and the Ida'lian queen had trained, Even from his birth, to every powerful art Of pleasing and persuading; from whose lips Flowed eloquence which, like the vows of love, Could steal away suspicion from the hearts Of all who listened. Thus, from day to day He won the general suffrage, and beheld Each rival overshadowed and depressed Beneath his ampler state; yet oft complained As one less kindly treated, who had hoped To merit favor, but submits perforce To find another's services preferred, Nor yet relaxeth aught of faith or zeal. Then tales were scattered of his envious foes, Of snares that watched his fame, of daggers aimed Against his life. When his schemes were ripe for execution, Pisistratus one day drove into the public square of Athens, his mules and himself disfigured with recent wounds inflicted by his own hands, but which he induced the multitude to believe had been received from a band of assassins, whom his enemies, the nobility, had hired to murder "the friend of the people." Of this scene the same poet says: At last, with trembling limbs, His hair diffused and wild, his garments loose, And stained with blood from self-inflicted wounds, He burst into the public place, as there, There only were his refuge; and declared In broken words, with sighs of deep regret, The mortal danger he had scarce repelled.